A maelstrom of gunfire erupted, so loud that it was like the rifles were being fired inches from my ear.
“Lilly! I’m coming!”
The whirlwind of bullets cascading through the mansion lasted only perhaps a dozen seconds, which even then was probably a high estimate. By the time I got to the railing, the gunfire had stopped.
And what I saw…
Lilly was on the floor.
Lane, gun in hand, stood at the door.
And a pool of blood was spilling out from underneath her.
“No!” I screamed, running downstairs.
This couldn’t be happening. No, no, no, this wasn’t worth the sacrifice. Loss of innocent, truly innocent lives, that wasn’t worth killing Lucius. What was the point if we couldn’t fucking account for who was dying and who was alive?
Around me, Fallen Saints were dead or on their last breath. The Reapers had eradicated the last of Lucius’ guard. Wherever that asshole was, whether here or halfway to San Francisco, he was alive but without his daughter.
Who herself may not have been alive.
“Please, please, please, Lilly, no, no, no…”
I scrambled over to her, crawling on my hands and knees, my legs far too wobbly, as I reached her.
“Lilly, God, why…”
It’s just like Shannon.
Innocence gets caught in the crossfire. The madness continues. Vengeance takes hold.
“You,” I said, turning to Lane. “I told you she was innocent!”
“I did not shoot her!” Lane said. “Think, Cole. Think back to what happened this evening. For all that we shared. Do you think I made that up to gain your—”
I raised my gun in anger. I heard multiple guns being drawn on me. I didn’t give a shit.
“You fucking wanted this, didn’t you?” I said, blinded by rage. “You wanted me to fucking taste what losing Shannon felt like?”
“Cole.”
Lane’s voice was calm. He took a step forward. We might have won the battle with the Saints, but this was, at this point, the only battle that I cared about.
“Cole, listen to me,” he said, taking another step forward. “I miss Shannon every day. I tell Angela this. I miss the spirit and innocence and forgiveness that Shannon had. But I have moved forward. I recognize the truth now. The man who killed her was not you. And even if it was, I would not want you to suffer as I did. No one should.”
He gulped. He was now close enough that I could pistol-whip him if I wanted. God, the temptation...
But slowly, very, very slowly, I was coming back from my rage. I looked down at Lilly. She hadn’t moved.
“Cole, please,” Lane said. “I am sorry I never appreciated how you felt about her. I am sorry that I treated you so badly. I am sorry that I did not see her as you did. But please. For the sake of stopping this madness, for the sake of stopping this feud between us, for the sake of peace... believe me. I did not kill Lilly.”
He didn’t.
The voice in my head, though, did not sound like my own. It was almost... it was almost like my father’s.
The voice did not come back. But even then, I knew the truth. I was hurt. I was in significant pain. I just wanted vengeance for Lilly’s death, and I was blind as to whom I struck out at.
But blind anarchist rage was almost certainly what had created Lucius. If I struck my brother down in cold blood, no matter how perceivably justified…
