Page 75 of Violence and Vice

I cradle his face in my hands. “No,” I whisper. “No, no, no…”

I press my forehead to his, tears falling hot and fast. “Please come back to me. Please, Ares…”

But he doesn’t move.

He just lies there, like a statue carved from ash and sorrow.

And I feel my heart tear in two.

The space has gone still for a moment. James is dead. His brothers are dead. Markus is dead. The Blood Father is dead.

Aresis dead.

And the world might as well just end now.

Chapter 16

“Lana.”

A sob is working its way up my chest, ready to explode through my entire body, when Juliet walks over and kneels beside me.

My eyes slide over to meet hers, and I don’t know if I’m really seeing anything right. She has this expression I can’t explain.

“It’ll be okay,” she says as she places a hand on mine.

I want to scream at her, cry, curse, because what the hell could she mean? Of course it won’t be alright. But she looks back at Roman, who stands just five feet behind her. There’s a look of pained resignation, and he turns away from Juliet, deliberately not looking at her.

“Well,” Juliet mutters, her voice heavy with something between weariness and inevitability. “Here we go again.”

I can’t even process her words. It’s like they won’t sink into my brain. I can’t sort them out or make any sense of them. Not when my whole world just evaporated.

Juliet looks back at Sysco, and then looks me square in the eye and says, “Just keep what’s about to happen to yourself, okay?”

I don’t understand.

Until she hovers her hand over Ares’ chest, and then rests it against his skin.

Instantly, a cry of pain escapes her lips, and for a moment, I think she’s been shot as blood sprays from her chest. The very next second, she slumps forward.

Dead.

Ares gasps. His back arches.

The stake in his chest pops out like it’s been launched from within. His eyes fly open. He sits up, wild and breathless.

Holy shit.

Holy shit.

I stare.

Ares.

Alive.

Alive?

Ares looks around the room, dazed. His body tenses, though he’s obviously in pain. He holds a hand to his chest where he was just staked and grimaces. He turns to me, dazed. “Lana…”