“Then I guess I’ll have to kill you.”
Chapter 52
DELILAH
Ilie back against my pillows, the sound of the door closing still ringing in my ears as Xavier leaves with his father. The room feels emptier, colder, as if his departure has sucked all the warmth out. My tears dry on my cheeks, leaving a salty trace of my fear and desperation. I force myself to breathe, to focus, but my heart races, thudding painfully against my chest.
I’m going to be so pissed if I need another transplant because I fucked up this one.
The mercenary stands by the door, his eyes never straying far from me. He’s a shadow of Edward’s threats, and his presence is suffocating. I need to get out of here to warn Ben, but how can I do that when I don’t know where he is?
Xavier agreed to kill Ben... or so Edward claimed. Would Xavier really go through with it? My soul aches at the thought. My initial reaction is to give him the benefit of a doubt, but then, uncertainty creeps in. Xavier has never shied away from doing whatever it takes to keep me safe.
There’s no line he wouldn’t cross for me.
The thought chills me, but it also propels me into action. I can’t sit here, trapped in fear and worry. I need to do something.
I study the assassin, taking in his stance, his position by the door. He’s alert but not expecting trouble from me, and I can’t blame him. I can barely fucking walk. But I need to use that underestimation to my advantage.
I reach under the pillow, my fingers closing around the cool, familiar handle of the dagger that Xavier had insisted I keep close. It feels heavy, filled with purpose and potential. I grip it tightly, a small measure of power in this otherwise helpless situation.
“I need to use the bathroom,” I say, injecting a hint of frailty into my voice. It’s not entirely feigned—the exhaustion and recovery are real—but I exaggerate my weakness, making my plea seem pathetic and harmless.
The man nods but makes no move to assist me. With a grimace, I slide from the bed and onto my feet, leaning heavily on the mattress. Then I shuffle toward the bathroom, keeping my focus on my breathing, on maintaining the facade of a woman still too weak to pose any threat.
As soon as I approach the door, I pretend to stumble, my body going limp. The man lunges for me, his attention momentarily focused on keeping us both upright. I smile up at him while tightening my grip on the dagger.
In a swift upward arc, I stab him in the stomach. The blade sinks past skin and muscle. The impact sends a shock up my arm, but I don’t pause to register it.
He doesn’t go down immediately, but the blow causes him to loosen his grip.
I don’t wait for him to recover. With a push fueled by adrenaline, I shove him toward the wall, driving the blade deeper. His head hits the flat surface with a crack, and he slumps to the ground.
For a few seconds, I stand there, breathing hard and shaking, the dagger still in my hand. Then my body gives out.
I sink to the floor, staring straight ahead. The blood on the man’s scrubs spreads, a red inkblot that chills me more than the cold tile stealing my body heat.
Just as I’m about to get to my feet, the door swings open abruptly. Declan bursts in, his expression tense until his eyes take in the scene laid out before him. His posture relaxes slightly, and a wry grin spreads across his face.
“Looks like you don’t need my help after all,” Declan says, his tone laced with caustic humor. “Remind me to never piss you off.”
He walks over to me and offers a hand before assisting me to my feet.
“Thanks.” I let out a shaky breath, a mix of hysterical laughter and tears. The dagger falls from my numb fingers and clatters onto the floor as I stagger back to the bed and collapse onto the mattress with a groan. “What are you doing here?”
He moves quickly to the door, peeking out before closing it securely, and then turns back to me with a serious expression. “Xavier sent me a weird text. It was cryptic but sounded urgent. He told me to make sure you were safe.” Declan’s eyes dart to the four bodies lying on the floor, then back to me. “Looks like I got here just in time to see the show, though.”
“I’m only responsible for one of them. Xavier took out the first three.”
I pull the hospital blanket closer around my shoulders, the events of the past few minutes catching up with me as fatigue dulls the sharp edges of adrenaline. And sharpens the reality that I killed someone.
Guilt covers me like a dark cloud, threatening to consume me, but I shove it away. Although it was under Edward’s orders, that assassin came here to hurt Xavier and me. I can’t forget that.
“Declan, I need to get out of here to warn Ben. Edward Donovan wants him dead, and I don’t know what Xavier is planning. They said something about a vault, but I don’t know what that means. Do you?”
Declan’s expression hardens, the playful glint in his eyes vanishing. “I do. The catacombs underneath the fraternity hold a series of vaults, one for each founding family that can only be unlocked with a descendant’s DNA.”
“What about Ben? Do you know where he is?”
