Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 110089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 550(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 550(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
“Don’t worry,” Stacia says. “I’ve done plenty of damage.”
She doesn’t know I already found the routes and corrupted them.
I swallow and try not to sneeze. That stupid purse is too close. “If you can code, do you know where the virus came from?”
“I have no idea.” Stacia stares at me. “I figured you created it.”
“No.” Not the mutated one, anyway. If I can get to a mainframe, I can clear her out completely. She’s not nearly as good as I am. She didn’t have Aura, Mags, and Jos training her all her life. My mind goes to the women. I have to get out of here. Who will take care of them?
I think of Justice. I think of what we could’ve had. I fell hard, and I fell fast. I love a guy who can break someone else’s neck with his own hands, and I never told him. Oh, I’ll put up a good fight, but Wynd is twice my size. While I feel the power of the crystal, it doesn’t give me extra strength.
“I’d very much like for you to strangle her now,” Stacia says cheerfully.
I take another step toward Corinda. The idea of Wynd’s hands around my throat makes me want to gag. I back toward Corinda and grab her arm. “You need to wake up now. Help me.”
She looks up listlessly. “Huh?”
“Get up. We need to fight.” I bite the words through my teeth.
She looks at me, then at her sister, and then she pushes herself up as if her body is ninety years old.
“There you go,” I say.
Stacia actually laughs. “Nah, we’re going to let you live. You have a purpose to serve, so why don’t you just sit down and behave yourself?”
“You are such a cunt,” Corinda slurs. She wavers on her feet. “I can’t believe you killed our mother. You’re going to die a horrible death.” The words are soft, fragile. Her voice is weak; speaking has tired her out. I can’t count on her much for an assist.
I scan the room for weapons. The only thing I can see is a pen. I grab it.
Stacia watches me and laughs.
It’s funny until I stab her in the eye. I brace my feet and get ready to lunge just as the barely repaired elevator door blows open. The whole room stutters.
Justice. He came for me.
I grab Corinda instinctively and push her behind the pedestal as the doorway fills. Justice and Alexei stand there like two different kinds of storms.
Justice hits first. He reaches Wynd and tackles him, bringing him down hard. Alexei moves for Stacia, but Stacia yanks a gun from her side and shoots him. Alexei jerks back, blood spattering across his face, shock written all over him. She laughs, and a knife flashes out of nowhere. Alexei’s right hand moves as he throws, the blade spinning wildly, embedding perfectly in her throat.
She falls back, the gun clattering from her hand. She clutches at the knife, gurgling, and falls hard. I watch as her body shudders, convulses, and then the light leaves her eyes.
Alexei frowns and grabs his upper chest.
I move Corinda over to him. “How bad?” I ask.
“I don’t know,” he gasps. He collapses to his knees. “Kind of hurts.”
Oh shit. I look over at Justice, but he’s busy pummeling the ever-living shit out of Wynd. Wynd’s face is hamburger meat. I’m not sure there’s a nose left I recognize. Justice looks up, fury all over him, blood splattered across his face.
“I think Alexei took a bad one,” I say, holding Corinda as best I can. She’s barely steady.
Justice turns and punches again. One more blow snaps down on Wynd’s face. I hear bones crack, a percussive cascade, then the body shudders and goes still. Justice, his face splashed with blood, moves toward us. “Are you hurt?”
“No, I’m good,” I say, though my mouth’s dry.
Alexei tears his jacket off and looks down at the wound. Blood pours from him, pooling dark on the floor. Sirens and alarms burst to life above us—blares and the sound of men running, boots on stairs echoing through the shafts. “Shit. Hold on.”
“Guns out,” Justice says.
Alexei pulls a pistol from his boot. Justice pulls his too. I run over and grab the gun Stacia dropped, the cold metal slick with her blood.
“We can’t just keep shooting people,” I say, the panic making my voice thin.
Alexei’s eyelids flutter.
“No,” I cry out. He can’t die. Rosalie will be crushed. I stand and run into the server room, carrying the citrine out to place beside him.
“What are you doing?” Justice asks.
I gulp. “I’m not sure.” I plant my hand on the crystal and the other over Alexei’s heart. It’s beating slowly and not as strong as I like. I shut my eyes and think of Rosalie. Of her sweetness and her loyalty. Of her being my sister. A hum sets up around us.