But there are no good guys here. Haven’t I learned that lesson already? Roe and Travis are killing civilians, and who knows how many Mods died in tonight’s ambush.
I tighten my finger on the trigger. “I will kill you, Theo. So please, just get on the bike and ride away.”
He takes a slight step.
“I mean it. Move and I’ll shoot.”
My gaze flits to the supply crates where Poppy is hiding. She stares back at me, eyes wide.
“There’s a red threat for you,” Theo says. “I have orders to kill you on sight.”
“We both know I’m the better shot.”
The seconds tick by.
One.
Two.
Three.
Just when I’ve resigned myself to the fact that I’m about to kill a man in cold blood, Theo charges at me.
I get off a wild shot. It explodes on the gravel, sending chunks flying up. He shoots, too, but misses, then growls in frustration when I manage to kick the weapon out of his hand before he can fire again. It skitters away, but rather than lunge for it, he lunges for me instead.
He’s bigger than me, and far more muscular, knocking the wind out of me when he tackles me to the ground. We tangle together on the dirt and dust, but I’m no match for him. He’s on top of me, the heavy weight of his body pressing down on my chest. It’s hard to breathe.
Theo gets his hands around my throat. “Fucking hell, Darlington,” he mutters, as if he really doesn’t want to do this but has no choice.
My windpipe feels like it’s being crushed. I gasp, desperate to draw air into my lungs. My vision blurs, and I feel myself losing strength when a new sensation comes over me.
Pain.
A stabbing sensation. Like someone shoved needles under my skin.
Theo’s grip loosens a little, and I cough.
The pain spreads from my neck down to my chest and arms, and suddenly his grip loosens entirely.
Theo sits up, eyes wild with terror.
A second later, his entire body starts to twitch. I watch in disbelief as his face contorts with agony. His arms trembling. Chest jerking, more and more violently, as if an electric current is running through his body.
What the hell is happening?
I lie there gasping for air, coughing.
Theo’s grunting now. A pained guttural sound.
Then I see her.
Poppy stands off to the side. I don’t have a view of her arms, but I can see her wrist and it’s glowing, silver flowing through her veins. Her gaze is fixed on Theo, brow furrowed in concentration.
“Wha…” he chokes out, then clutches his chest and lets out a hoarse scream.
“Poppy,” I call out weakly, “what are you doing?”
She doesn’t answer. Her gaze remains on him. She holds out her hand, and Theo begins thrashing on the ground, falling onto his back.
