Steiner bent down, breath hot on my ear. “You know what’s funny?” he said, voice almost gentle. “You never had a chance. None of you.”
He drew a pistol from his waistband, pressing the muzzle to my temple. “You think I won’t do it?” he hissed.
I grinned, bloody and unhinged. “I think you’ll hesitate, just like you always do.”
And then, from the corner of my eye, I saw Arsenal moving. He’d dropped his gun, now empty, and was charging Steiner head-on. Steiner swung the pistol up, but Arsenal was already there—he grabbed Steiner’s wrist, twisted, and the gun skittered across the floor. They crashed into the bars; the impact rattled the whole cell.
For a split second, Steiner’s foot left my back. I lunged for the pipe, grabbed it with numb fingers, and pulled myself to my knees. Every nerve screamed, but I held on.
Arsenal and Steiner traded blows, neither giving ground. Steiner was stronger, but Arsenal was meaner—he went for the eyes, the throat, anywhere that would slow Steiner down. Blood spattered the concrete. The fight was close and ugly, nothing like the clean choreography of the movies.
Wrecker joined in, slamming Steiner from behind and locking his arms around Steiner’s chest. “Now, Harper!” Wrecker shouted. “Do it!”
I staggered to my feet, pipe raised vertically over my head. Steiner saw me coming and laughed, even as he tried to break free of Wrecker’s grip.
“C’mon, darling,” he taunted. “One last dance?”
I didn’t answer. I brought the jagged end of the pipe down as hard as I could, aiming for the place where his shoulder met his neck. The steel entered, crunched bone, and tore through muscle, and this time Steiner screamed. He tried to turn, but Wrecker held him fast.
I drove the pipe deeper, impaling organs, bones, and tendons until Steiner slumped to the ground, gasping.
Arsenal leaned over, voice low. “You’re done, Steiner.”
Steiner’s mouth worked, blood bubbling between his teeth. “You think you’ve won? There’s always another wolf. Or demon.”
From behind, Etienne appeared, gun raised. He put a single bullet through Steiner’s skull, neat and final. His body jerked, then went slack.
I collapsed. Every part of me hurt. Brie reached for me through the bars, sobbing.
Arsenal hauled me into his arms. “You okay, bluebonnet?” he whispered.
I tried to smile. “Never better.”
He kissed my hair, then looked at Brie. “You too, little sister?”
She nodded, mute.
Wrecker and the French team swept the warehouse, making sure every wolf was dead or dying. Parker found the keys, unlocked the cell, and pulled Brie out. Then she pulled me from Jess’s arms into a careful hug. “Told you I’d hack every camera in Paris if I had to,” she said, voice watery with relief.
I hugged her back, then clung to Jess as he carried me out the door and into the morning light. The warehouse was a war zone—bodies everywhere, smoke still curling from spent gunpowder. But it was over.
On the street outside, Big Papa waited with the van, ready to run.
Arsenal set me gently on the seat, wrapping a blanket around my shoulders. He knelt in front of me, searching my face for something I couldn’t name.
Doc was on the phone in the passenger seat. “Gwen’s good. Veil is strong. Nobody in the area should be aware of what just went down.”
Relief washed over everyone.
Jess climbed in and pulled me close as he held me on his lap. “You did it,” he said, voice hoarse.
I shook my head. “Wedid.”
He smiled, just a little, then pressed his forehead to mine. “I love you,” he said.
I wanted to say it back, but all that came out was a sob. I held him hard until the world stopped spinning.
Beside me, Brie held my hand. She was still shaking, but her eyes were clear.
