Another grazes his thigh. He doesn't flinch.
The operatives realize, too late, that they're not fighting a man. They're fighting something that doesn't know how to stop.
One of them breaks, turns to run. Jagger catches him by the back of his tactical vest, spins him around, and punches through his throat. Not a slash. Not a stab. A punch, fingers rigid, driving through windpipe and muscle, then he lifts his hand and the mans neck snaps.
The last operative drops his weapon. Raises his hands. "Please—"
Jagger grabs his head with both hands and twists. The crack of his spine breaking echoes across the lawn.
Then he goes inside. The sound of screaming echoes in the yard.
My vision swims. I'm losing blood too fast. Need to stay awake. Need to—
"Jonah!"
Not Jagger's voice. Someone else. I turn my head, moving slowly because fast movement makes the world spin.
Jace and Jinx emerge from the tree line. Jace is limping, blood dripping from a gash on his forehead. Jinx has a rifle in each hand and a smile on his face that belongs in a psychiatric evaluation.
"Found you," Jinx says, dropping beside me. "You look terrible."
"Feel terrible."
"Bullet wound. Through and through." He's already pressing something against my side, and I scream at the pressure. "Sorry. Need to stop the bleeding."
"Where's Jagger?"
"House." Jace looks toward the building, where the sounds of violence have gone quiet. "What happened?"
"Webb. It was a trap. Jagger's—" I cough again, more blood. "He's killing everyone."
The brothers exchange a look. Something passes between them that I don't understand.
"Stay with him," Jace says.
He moves toward the house. Jinx keeps pressure on my wound, his manic energy suddenly channeled into focus.
"You're going to be fine," he says. "I've seen worse."
"Oh thank you, that’s helpful."
"Well, you could be dead, so itcouldbe worse." He adjusts his grip, and I bite back another scream. "So you took a bullet for my brother. That's either very brave or very stupid."
"Can't it be both?"
"It can. It is." His eyes meet mine, and there's something almost soft in them. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me yet. Still might die."
"You won't. Jagger would never forgive us if we let you die."
From the house, a new sound. A crash of breaking glass, followed by a scream that will haunt my dreams.
Then silence.
Long, terrible silence.
Jinx's head comes up, his whole body going tense. "Jace—"
