Page 309 of Sinister

Fiona’s features are drawn tight, sweat trickling down her face.

“You’d harm a pregnant woman?” I rasp out. “Do you think Valerion will give you some extra points if you give him the soul of a baby?”

She frowns. “What are you talking about?”

“You don’t have to pretend you don’t know. Agatha,” I say pointedly.

Her brows go up. What is that I see in her eyes, recognition, surprise? She probably didn’t think I would find out.

“W—” her words are drowned out by the loud bang of a gun.

I freeze. That was a shot, a gunshot. But I didn’t squeeze the trigger, did I? At least I think I didn’t.

Did I . . . did I get shot? I’ve heard sometimes the onslaught of adrenaline can lead to a delayed pain response.

My thoughts are interrupted by a low moan. It’s coming from her.

She draws back, relinquishing her hold on the weapon.

Her hands go to her abdomen, where a red stain is soaking the material of her shirt, growing larger by the second.

“You shot me,” she says in disbelief.

“As if you wouldn’t have done the same,” I counter, though I’m just as shocked by what happened.

Good Lord! That could have been me! The gun could have gone off in my direction—in the direction of my baby.

Fiona breathes hard as she holds tightly onto her wound. She staggers back, and as she hits the wall, she slowly sinks to the floor.

“You shot me,” she repeats, more to herself.

I stare at her. Do I run away now? Do I leave her here?

“Call 911,” she rasps, her voice tinged with pain. “Call⁠—”

“No,” I reply suddenly, shocking even myself.

“You would let me bleed out here?”

Old Petra would have never even entertained this. But this Petra has her baby to consider. Fiona might be hurt, but she’s still alive. As long as she lives, she’s a danger to us. She might not sacrifice me today to that devil, but she will at some point. And I cannot allow that to happen.

But that means . . .

I glance at the gun in my hands, feeling the foreign metal against my fingers.

If I leave her like this, she might get help, she might survive, she might try to hurt us again.

But if I . . .

Fiona’s gaze goes to the gun in my hands, too, somehow knowing exactly what I’m thinking about.

“Don’t do this, Petra. You will only make the situation worse for yourself.”

Will I? Perhaps I will truly become an evil soul then, and in her next incarnation, she might come after me again.

Maybe. At least for the time being, we will be safe. My baby will be safe.

I raise the gun and point it at her. My hand trembles, but my resolve is unshakable.