Jagger lifted his hand, curling his fingers so his sharp claws could rend and rip.
“Wait—” Justice said, quickly glancing at me, then away.
Jagger paused, ready to strike.
“Let me try again.”
Jagger narrowed his eyes, looking down at Justice’s broken form. “Why?”
“Because it’s better to die fighting.”
Jagger sniffed, his lips curving maliciously as he looked away, out at the blazing battle. While he did, Justice quickly turned to me. Then he tapped one finger against the back of his opposite hand.
Tap tap. Tap tap.
I tilted my head.
Was he . . .?
Tap tap. Tap tap.
Was that Griff’s tap?
Was he tapping our code?
It’s me. I’m still me.
I let out a breath and then smoothed my features as Jagger turned back to him.
“Fine. You’ve been an adequate mine. I’ll grant you this. You may die fighting. Kill the Bards. Kill the Smith heir. Kill the Smith, if you can.”
Justice smiled.
I shivered. I’d never seen him smile like that before. It was a terrifying thing to behold.
He palmed a long knife and grinned.
There. That was the grin I knew. The one he used to give before he became a mine.
It was his happy “let’s imagine a place where we’re free” grin.
Let’s imagine our cabin in the woods.
Jagger turned away, dismissing him.
Instead of running into the battle, Justice leaped forward and shoved his knife into Jagger’s gut.
A nine and a mine couldn’t harm Jagger. That was one of the peculiarities of our symbiosis. If you ever attempted to harm him, you froze. It was impossible to move.
Justice froze in rigor mortis the second he leaped at Jagger. But the force of his momentum carried him forward. His arm was propelled downward, and the knife crashed into Jagger’s abdomen.
I screamed as pain ripped through me. I pressed my hand against my stomach and felt the hot ooze of leaking blood. My skin burned, and my vision was swamped with darkness. The metallic-hot taste of blood filled my mouth, and my ears thundered.
Justice grunted and then screamed through gritted teeth as Jagger dug poison claws into his blood. A leggerock could do this whenever he wanted. He could torture and maim and make his creature’s blood sizzle.
I pressed my hand to my abdomen, trying to slow the blood flow.
“Justice,” Jagger said, scraping his claws through the air. “Just for that, you won’t die. Not for a long time.”
