Page 138 of Shattered Stars

Do I know him? Pip squeals and burrows into my side. There’s something about this man … something familiar. But I can’t make my brain work. Everything hurts and I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe.

“It is you, isn’t it?” he growls, swinging back his leg and kicking me hard in the ribs. “I thought it was you, you little bitch.”

I’m already in so much pain that the strike to my body hardly registers, but it seems to awaken my lungs, air rushing to fill them.

I stare up into his face as the oxygen floods my brain.

It’s the eyes … something about the eyes … the shape, the color, the cocky self-confidence.

And then I see it. Then I remember.

My knife in that skull. Those same eyes, staring unblinking at the ground, never to close again.

“Marcus Lowsky,” I gasp, my throat raw and raspy. And suddenly everything is clear, crystal clear. The sounds, the sights, everything coming into sharp focus, the dark lines of his tattoo, the chain around his neck, the leaves above his head, the aroma of burning in my nose.

“I had a feeling you weren’t dead,” he hisses, kicking me three more times, so hard my body skids across the path each time, before he crouches down beside me. “But not to worry. This is better. This is the way it should be.”

I need to be fighting, saving myself, saving Pip, but everything hurts, my magic refusing to come when I command it. My fingertips useless, like wet matches. I lie there helpless, staring up into his venomous eyes.

“This way,” he continues, examining my face, “I get to make you suffer, hurt, pay for what you did.”

He hovers a hand above me and sends electricity searing through my body. I scream as my body jolts and jerks and my muscles and nerves scorch.

“Yes, much better.” There’s no expression on his face. It’s blank, completely blank, only those dark eyes glinting.

I glare right back at him. I could try to reason with him. Make him see I didn’t know it was his brother, explain I was saving another. But who am I kidding? This man wants revenge. Blood. It’s all he’s ever wanted. He’s been damn persistent about it. There’s no way he’s going to let me live.

Again, I try to move my arm, to call my magic to my fingertips, but everything is an effort, my arm so heavy I can’t move it.

His eyes flick all over me and Pip takes his chance and attacks him, launching at the man and snapping at his nose. The man is too quick though, he swerves backwards, swings his arm through the air and sends Pip flying away. I hear my pet hit the ground behind me with a squeal.

“Pip!” I moan, my voice barely audible.

“I’m going to break every bone in your body. Then I’m going to slit your throat and watch you bleed to death,” Marcus says. “So where shall we start? Your fingers?” He takes my left hand in both of his and I try with all my might to zap him. I reach deep inside myself, searching for that dark, crimson magic, knowing it would save me now. But there’s nothing, only emptiness and pain.

“And while we’re doing this,” he says, uncoiling my fist and straightening my digits. He grips my little finger, “you can tell me why Renzo Barone didn’t kill you. Why he brought me a heart that wasn’t yours. Why he lied to me.”

He snaps my finger backwards and white light sears across my vision. More pain. Hot and wretched.

I screw up my eyes and when the world stops spinning, he’s still there, gripping my hand. His breath loud and menacing. He’s gripping my next finger now, my pinkie dangling at a grotesque angle.

“Tell me why,” he growls, his dark eyes spitting with anger and bloodlust.

“Because she’s my fated mate, you fucking cunt!”

A black cloud of magic pounds into Marcus Lowsky, dragging him onto the ground and curling all over him, coiling around and around his neck like a noose. The man scrabbles to release his throat but his hands swim through the shadows and the ligature squeezes. He fires magic into the air but the coil grows tighter and tighter, his face growing red, then purple, the veins on his temple popping out against his skin, his eyes bulging. His legs scrape against the earth. He wheezes and gurgles. I turn my head away, unable to watch and my gaze falls right upon Renzo Barone, Pip tucked under his arm. He reaches for my shoulder, gripping it tightly.

“Let’s get out of here, little rabbit.”

There’s a flash of light and then the world bends and stretches, the sounds of the man being strangled, the explosions and the fire, twist and stretch. There’s a pressure in my head. I feel as if I am being squeezed to death and then it releases. I gasp for air and open my eyes.

53

Spencer

I come backto myself in a pile of bodies, the battle thundering around me, magic clashing in the air, the Great Hall a blazing wreck.

I scan the vicinity, searching a way out. I told Tristan to take Rhianna and leave, but as I climb through the wreckage, deflecting and firing magic at the remaining soldiers, I spy him. On the ground. His eyes closed. His body lifeless.