But Christian has survived worse.
The car has barely pulled to a stop at the curb of the station when all the energy inside me explodes. I’m throwing the door open and sprinting into the alleys, following the path they would've taken at full speed until I can feel my muscles burning through my skin.
Don’t die.
Don’t die don’t die don’t die—
I have to grab the wall to help me turn the corner—to skid to a stop in the middle of the alleyway.
And my heart does a deep dive into my chest.
Christian's knife sticks out from a man’s throat. He's unrecognizable as he pulls it free, guiding the dead man's body so he falls to the side.
But there is no one else alive in the alley.
The bodies of dead men are littered across the ground, having found their deaths by bullets and blades and the snapping of their necks.
More than fifteen men.
My pulse is a loud beat between my ears.
“Christian,” I call for him but something is wrong, because even though he's looking right at me, he doesn't see me.
There's a conscious light missing from his eyes.
And I know he's not there because his energy is dormant. There isn't a flicker of those pretty colours in the air.
His arm is broken. There are knife wounds torn into his pants and shirt, seeping blood across his skin, and I know they are deep because he's lost too much. I know they have torn through muscle and scraped against bone...
Yet he doesn't fall.
I can feel the others round the corner at my back, but I can't take my eyes away.
There's a cut across his eye, that’s trickled blood across his face, obscuring his vision, yet still he remains completely still—the only tell that he's alive being the silent rise and fall of his chest.
Tobias and Gabriel walk past me, calling his name, but he doesn't stir.
When they step into his range, I shoot forward quickly, grabbing them by the scruff of their shirts to pull them back with every bit of my strength.
Christian snaps out of his stillness like a bullet, stepping into Gabriel’s space and thrusting his knife towards his throat.
The blade barely misses Gabriel by a hair, it slices the air in front of his eyes with deadly precision as he falls backwards.
Christian changes his grip on the weapon without a moment’s pause, releasing it so it hovers in the air for not longer than a single breath before changing his hold and slicing to his right, where Tobias is.
With my help Tobias staggers backward and I keep pulling them both until they've completely stepped out of Christian’s range.
“He's not conscious,” I say sharply. “He doesn't recognize us.”
“You’re fucking kidding me,”Tobias mutters, and even for a man like him, his breath is shaky. He knows he just stared death in the face.
Christian doesn't chase us. It seems he's only reacting to anyone who gets too close, because he rights himself, stumbling a few steps with an unsteady sway, before locking his knees and retreating into stillness again.
Waiting.
Baby, you’re so fucking amazing.
But you’re hurting yourself.
