I stare into his pale face, my breath seesawing in and out. “Kit. He – he…”
My face crumples, and he hauls me against him, wrapping his arms around me. “I’ve got you,” he murmurs. “You’re safe.”
He repeats the words over and over again, his hands stroking over the back of my head as I bury my face in his chest, trying to believe him. My legs are shaking badly, the rest of me not much better.
And behind me, thuds ring out. I can hear Silas, hear Rafe, hear the sheer, blazing fury in their voices. And I can hear the broken, choked sounds of the man who pinned me down.
And then I’m turned, and Rafe is there, his hands on my face. He scans me frantically. “Stasi,” he breathes. “I’m so sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry,” I choke out. “You told me not to leave my room.”
“Don’t youdareapologize.” He strokes my face, and his fingers pause when I wince. He tilts my face to the side, under the light.
And his face grows darker still. Darker than I’ve ever seen it. “He hit you.”
He whirls away from me, and Kit holds me tightly as Silas drags the man over, his hand gripping the back of his neck. The man’s face is barely recognizable, and I flinch as Silas throws him down. His eyes are nearly black when he looks at me, his eyes zeroing in on my face.
Silas reaches down, dragging the man up to his knees as I shrink back into Kit.
“It’s okay,” he whispers. “We’ve got you.”
The man coughs, and a trail of blood appears at the corner of his mouth. Rafe leans forward and yanks his hair back. His voice is pitch black when he speaks. “You dared totouchher, Lazarus.”
Lazarus.That’s his name.
He garbles out something unintelligible, and my breath catches when Silas presses something against the side of his head.
A gun.
“Beg her,” he says, his voice without mercy. His knuckles are bruised and bloody. “On your fucking knees. Apologize, and beg her forgiveness, Lazarus. Beg for your miserable fucking life.”
Kit’s warmth soaks into my back, and I lean into it further, trying to chase away the cold stealing over my soul.
I have never seen this side of them. This… darkness.
Lazarus looks up at me, his eyes unfocused, and I can’t stop the flinch.
Three matching snarls ring out. Kit tightens his grip. “I’m taking her to the kitchen. She doesn’t need to see this.”
But when he tries to urge me away, I don’t move.
Instead, I stare down at the man who tried to assault me. He’s crying now, the tears mixing with snot on his face as the barrel of Silas’s gun presses deeper into his forehead.
His apology is incoherent, babbled words that don’t make sense. But I get the gist.
“Stasi.” I look away from him, look at Silas. His face is hard, but I see him. I see the pain in his eyes, even as his hand stays steady. “Go with Kit.”
I don’t look away. “Are you going to kill him?”
I don’t care that my voice shakes. I think I’m entitled to it, really. Silas doesn’t move as he meets my gaze, resolute. “Yes. He doesn’t get to touch you and live.”
My eyes close slowly. And I make a decision. “All right.”
Before I turn, I stare back down at Lazarus. The blood on his face gleams beneath the lights.
“I’m going now,” I say to him. My voice doesn’t shake this time. “But I want you to know that you deserve this, you evil, raping son of a bitch. And I hope they make it hurt.”
“We will,” Rafe says darkly. His fingers brush mine as I move past him. “Kit will take care of you. I’m coming to you as soon as we’re done.”
