Page 58 of The Last Sanctuary

Angrily, Rex lunged for her.

Raven plunged the blade deep into his throat.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Hot blood drenched Raven’s hands. It slicked her fingers. The knife slipped out of her hands and clattered to the flagstone.

Rex staggered backward. His face went slack with astonishment. He dropped his gun. His eyes were sunken in his gaunt face, his pallor ashen. He clutched his neck with both hands, frantically attempting to staunch the dark red blood gushing from the wound.

Damien’s flashlight swung in a wild panicked arc, throwing garish shadows everywhere. His wide gaze darted from Rex to Raven and back again. “What the hell? What’d you do?”

“Shoot her!” Rex croaked.

In the darkness and harsh light, Damien’s expression was grim, unreadable. He dropped the flashlight and swung the barrel of the gun toward her. The gun barrel was pointed at her chest. “Raise your hands.”

Fear surged through her chest. The whittling knife lay on the path a yard from her feet. The blade glistened dark with blood. Rex’s gun lay even further away. Her hunting rifle was on theground somewhere behind her, and the tranq gun couldn’t help her.

By the time she went for it, Damien could shoot her a dozen times.

“Raise your hands!” Damien ordered. His flat voice was terrifying.

Raven went very still. She lifted her blood-drenched hands into the air and fixed her gaze on Damien. “You don’t have to do this.” Her voice trembled. Her body felt numb, disconnected from her brain.

“You little—I’ll kill you—!” Rex took a step toward her and stumbled. He gasped, half-choking, still clutching at his throat. “What’re you waiting for, Damien! Kill her!”

“You have a choice, Damien,” Raven said. Her voice sounded high and distant, strange, like it belonged to someone else. “Please don’t do this.”

Rex plucked at the spurting hole in his neck. He sank to his knees. His breath came in shallow, rapid pants. “Kill her and get me to Gomez! He’s got the med kit—shoot her, damn it!”

Damien hesitated. His rifle wavered. His body was taut, his face hard as stone. Once again, his gaze flitted from Rex to Raven and back again. Something flashed in his eyes—uncertainty.

Raven waited for the bullet to the chest. This was it. This was how it would end, how she would die here, alone in the fog and the cold and the darkness.

No. She would not give up. Not until her last breath. Maybe if Damien’s rifle wavered just a bit more. Maybe she could dive for the knife, or dart for the trees.

Her gaze never left that gun.

Blood bubbled from Rex’s lips. His skin had lost all color. He attempted to stand but toppled to the ground with a groan.

Rex’s hands tightened over his throat. A thick dark puddle of blood spread beneath him on the flagstone. “I’ll kill… kill her myself… you stupid, worthless?—”

“No,” Damien said. His voice was firm. His expression cleared like he’d decided something. He shifted and aimed his rifle at Rex. “You won’t.”

Rex sputtered incoherently. A look of betrayed shock crossed his agonized face. He made several choking, gurgling noises as he tried to speak, but no coherent words came out.

Damien didn’t pull the trigger. He didn’t need to.

Rex’s eyes rolled back in his head. Within a minute, he ceased moving. He stopped breathing, stopped everything.

Damien lowered the gun barrel several inches, but he kept his finger on the trigger guard. He let out a soft curse and sucked in his breath. “Is he dead?”

“Yeah, he’s dead.” Raven’s legs turned to jelly. Dizziness washed through her, but she fought to remain standing.

Her mind took several seconds to process the rapid change in circumstances. Damien still held the gun, but he wasn’t acting like he was going to shoot her with it—probably.

She wanted nothing more than to sink to the ground, curl up into a ball, and weep with relief and horror simultaneously. She couldn’t. Not yet. She was still in danger.

Damien had a weapon. She didn’t.