Page 41 of Commanding Scythe and Sky

My eyes flicked to the woman, and I nodded gently. Her daughter, no doubt, who’d earned two bullets defending the resistance.

I laid my hands across the girl’s abdomen where the bullets had lodged, my magic probing as Death nodded in approval. Relief sluiced through me when I realized they’d missed her vital organs.

But she’d lost a great deal of blood, and that was the one thing I couldn’t fix.

Tana vanished on the spot, no longer needing to conceal our abilities. The humans startled, eyes wide, jerking away from the gurney when it began rolling on its own. I guided them into a side room, relieved to see housekeeping had already worked its magic.

Tana appeared a heartbeat later and began replenishing the girl’s blood.

I closed my eyes and got to work. It took only moments for my power to extract the metal, soothe the wounds, and seal the skin while Tana established the drip. When I finished, I stepped back and bowed my head to the woman.

“Let her rest. I’ll be in the lobby, but she’ll be fine.”

That was the last straw. The woman’s steady façade crumbled as tears poured down her face and a stream of thank-yous rushed from her lips. She nodded, every movement small and hesitant.

My gifts accounted entirely for the tenuous peace between the mortals and me in this valley. Their skepticism was—unfortunately—deserved. The Renown had ransacked their cities alongside the demons flooding through the breach.

It had become a habit to leave the room the moment Death fell silent, granting them privacy and some sense of peace in a world with none left to offer.

I turned to go, but a firm hand clamped around my wrist, and I whirled.

The man from before—Chris—watched the shadows curling mercurially up my arms before swallowing audibly and lifting his chin.

When he spoke, his voice was hoarse but authoritative. “Thank you.” Even as the words left his lips, he looked pained, recoiling from me as though I were contagious.

The shadows flickered out, and I nodded again.

Gloves discarded, I returned to my desk—and my abandoned sandwich—sucked down a breath, and collapsed into my chair.

Aren leaned nonchalantly against my desk, arms crossed, and offered me a faint smile. “God, you’re incredible, Mags. Didn’t think it would be so sexy to watch you work.”

I grinned. “And yet?”

I squeezed my eyes shut, the aching chasm inside my chest burning raw all over again.

I’d been told the first year was the hardest. But this ache… his absence. Knowing I’d caused him unspeakable pain and betrayal, and that was how we’d ended…

That was the cruelest kind of punishment.

I doubled over, clutching my ribs as bile scorched the back of my throat.

I wanted to be the kind of soul who wouldn’t wish that agony on her worst enemy.

But I wasn’t.

Not anymore.

And when we got our hands on Bellamy, he would pay for every drop of blood spilled.

Every soul lost.

For now, though…

I was in for a very long night back at the bunker.

“Checkmate.”

“What?” I squeaked, staring wide-eyed at the board in utter disbelief.