I want to live.
Samuel gapes down at me with a furrowed brow, as if he’s shocked I’m even still alive in the first place. When herealizes what I’m holding—what I’ve taken from him—he lunges for me. But I’m too quick.
My gun is drawn and pointed at him, and the bang of the gunshot reverberates against the walls of the church, ringing in my ears, before everything falls into deafening silence.
Samuel is dead before he even hits the ground, the bullet going straight through his forehead. I back up just enough to miss the impact of his body hitting the ground.
Elias is five or six feet away—too far for me to reach him. I don’t know what his relic is either, but I point the gun at him all the same.
His eyes widen in fear. “Please don’t,” he croaks out, but he doesn’t move. My finger is still pressed against the trigger. I’m not sure why I hesitate.
“You helped him,” I say. The words feel thick on my tongue, like I’m speaking through a mouthful of cotton. “You lied to me. Tried to kill Ambrose.” My vision swims, and I’m sure it’s only the fury burning through me keeping me conscious.
He shakes his head frantically, taking small steps backward, but he’s trapped between the pews with his back facing the wall.
I could shoot him right now and not feel an ounce of regret. I could kill yet another man—angel, demon, whatever the hell he really is—and justify the action without a second thought.
“It was never part of the plan,” he pleads. “Everything got out of control so quickly with him. Please give me a chance to explain.”
“Standing aside to encourage evil deeds makes you no better than the perpetrator.” I take a deep, shaky breath, but it doesn’t feel like enough oxygen. I take another, andanother, until I’m practically hyperventilating.What’s happening to me?
My fingertips are numb, but I know I’m only a fraction of an inch away from putting another bullet in someone who tried to kill the only man I’ve ever truly loved.
“Brielle.” I don’t even realize Ambrose has moved until his voice is directly in my ear. He gently places a hand over my forearm and presses down, forcing me to lower the gun. “It’s exceedingly rare for me to say this, but I think he deserves a second chance.”
I nod, letting the gun clatter to the floor as my body continues to revolt against me. My eyes flutter closed.
“You saved me,” Ambrose murmurs in awe. “Please be okay.”
I sink deeper into unconsciousness.
“Please,” Ambrose whispers. “I can’t lose you too.”
They’re the last words I hear before I fade into darkness.
CHAPTER 46
“All human wisdom is contained in these two words—‘wait and hope.’”
—Alexandre Dumas
The sound of low, concerned voices drifts through my consciousness, dragging me from heavy sleep. When I open my eyes, I’m disoriented for a moment until I realize I’m in Ambrose’s bed. For a moment, relief falls over me with the familiarity of the room and the smell of Ambrose on the sheets.
Then reality slams into me as the memories flood back. The devastation of leaving, the vindictive satisfaction of killing Joel, the terror of realizing my mistake, and the desperation of hoping I didn’t get back to Ambrose too late.
They almost killed him. They didn’t, but theseverity of what we so narrowly avoided is enough to open the raw wound in my heart anew.
He’s alive, I remind myself, taking a deep breath to steady my racing heart.
The only thing I remember before losing consciousness is the crushing pressure in my skull, the overwhelming sensation of panic, and the peace that came with knowing Ambrose was safe.
I sit up slowly, expecting to feel that same throbbing ache in my head, or at least some soreness from being knocked to the ground by Samuel, but as I stretch and slowly stand, I’m shocked by the realization that there is no pain, not even as much as tenderness from a bruise.
How long have I been out?
I stand there for another moment, waiting for something to kick in, but I only become more awake. Weirdly enough, I feelrejuvenated,and less tired than I’ve felt in ages.
The floorboards creak beneath me as I make my way out of the room and down the hallway, following the low voices to the study. There, Ambrose and Elias sit across from each other deep in conversation. Their voices pause at the sight of me in the doorway.
