As Dimitri’s grip on the knives loosens, I seize the opportunity. Before he can blink, I’ve grabbed his wrists and twisted them behind his back. I shove him forward, putting his body in front of mine as a shield.
As Dimitri struggles against my hold, the masked man’s finger twitches on the trigger at Gianna’s brow. “What are you waiting for?” Dimitri shouts. “Shoot her!”
I press my knives harder into Dimitri’s side. “If you eventhinkabout pulling that trigger,” I warn the other man in a low growl, “I’ll bury these knives so deep Dimitri will need surgery to dig them out. And trust me, his death will be on your hands. The next sunrise you see will be through the bars of a cell.”
The gunman exchanges a nervous glance with his chain-wielding companion. Their bravado cracks. They know they’re outmatched, and that Dimitri’s death will be laid at their feet. Slowly, almost reluctantly, the gunman lowers his weapon.
I don’t loosen my hold on Dimitri. “Give her space.”
The masked men back away from Gianna.
“Gi, walk toward me slowly,” I say without taking my eyes off the masked man’s gun.
Tears stream down Gianna’s face as she shuffles unsteadily toward me. Once she’s securely at my back, I make my move. I slam the butt of one knife into Dimitri’s temple, knocking him unconscious—my element flares. Flames lick at my fingertips, reflected in the wide eyes of the remaining criminals.
They turn and run.
I’m about to unleash the full force of my fire when a stream of water whistles past me. I spin and find four figures racing toward us from the far end of the alley. A fierce surge of relief floods me.They’re here.With a flick of Alec’s wrist, one of the masked men is encased in ice, frozen mid-scream. The other man is quicker. He bolts down a side street, firing a shot back. We all duck for cover, and by the time I straighten, he’s gone.
Brigid rushes to my side to help me up. Meg and the fourth person—my old friend Ry Nieman—hurry after the gunman.
“You’re hurt,” Brigid says, her voice as chilling as death.
I shake out of her hold. “I’m fine.” My pride stings more than my wound.
“Doesn’t look deep.” Her fingers ghost over my throat.
“It isn’t.”
“What do you want to do with him?” Alec nods toward the unconscious Dimitri.
I pull my phone from my pocket. “I’m phoning in the attack.”
Brigid grabs my wrist. “What will you say?”
I gape at her. “The truth? He attacked us. They threatened Gianna.”
Brigid’s grip tightens. “If you send Dimitri to prison, you make an enemy of him and likely dozens of other Nebula who are his friends. Dimitri is just angry he got fired; he wouldn’t have hurt her.” She glares at Gianna. “If you had listened to me and left her at home, none of this would have happened.”
“Dimitri wanted to hurt Gianna as a message to the Epsilon, and you want me to look the other way?”
“Gianna may be a Nebula, but she didn’t grow up as one,” Brigid sneers.
I stumble back. Where does this viciousness come from? I don’t recognize her anymore. “So that makes what happened to her tonight okay?”
“Of course not,” Alec chimes in, always the voice of reason. “None of this is okay.”
“Goo—”
“But if you turn these people in, it could be seen as siding with the Epsilon,” Brigid points out. “Stellan won’t like it. He may not want to meet you.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I say, my voice rising with each word. “This isn’t about choosing sides. It’s about distinguishing right from wrong.” If Stellan can’t see that, he is more detrimental to society than I thought. “We can’t just attack people because they grew up differently than we did.”
“You’re different,” Brigid mutters.
I bite back the childish retort thatshe’sthe one who’s different. Even back then, I would have called this in. Ry and Meg return.
“Did you catch him?” Gianna asks, her voice thick with tears. Meg shakes her head, and fresh tears spill down Gianna’s cheeks.
