Page 42

EVE

Ragnar slammed into me before I could blink. One breath, I was upright; the next, I was hitting the floor. The windows shattered with a deafening explosion. Ragnar’s bulk shielded me from the worst of it. Then the lights cut out, plunging us into darkness.

My ears rang violently, but the sharp grip of Ragnar’s hands on my shoulders cut through the haze as he pulled me upright. His lips were moving, his expression sharp and furious as he hauled me to my feet.

I stumbled, barely catching myself as he shoved me toward the swinging door leading into the kitchen. It was barely hanging on by the hinges.

“Move,” he barked, his voice booming and commanding as it broke through the ringing in my ears. “Get out of here.”

“Wait, we need to—”

“You don’t need to do shit,” he growled, cutting me off. “You’re a fucking distraction, so go. Now .”

Smoke was already seeping into the dining car, billowing in from the exposed front. Ragnar spun on his heel, storming back toward the shattered door and vanishing into the smoke and shadows.

I had no choice but to go. I didn’t want to leave him to face god knows what, but I couldn’t stay here while the diner was burning around me.

Heart pounding, I groped through the dark, my fingers skimming the fridge doors as I moved toward the exit. I barely noticed the sweat dripping down my temple or the trembling in my hands. All I could focus on was getting out, on surviving —until something gripped my arm.

A sharp, shrill scream ripped from my throat before I could stop it, my entire body jerking away from the unexpected touch.

“Sam?” I gasped. “What—what the hell are you doing here?”

“It’s time you came with me.”

His hand tightened around my arm. The pressure bordered on pain.

“What are you talking about?” I stammered, trying to pull my arm free. “Ragnar said we have to get out of here. We need to—”

“I’ve been patient long enough, but it’s time you started doing as you’re told.”

Something about his voice made my stomach twist. It was too calm, too steady, and completely devoid of the easy warmth I’d always associated with Sam. My gut screamed at me that something was wrong.

“You’re hurting me,” I said, my voice trembling as I tried to pull back again.

When I looked at him, my eyes still acclimating to the darkness, my breath caught in my throat.

His face was wrong. The soft, boyish features I’d always known were sharp and hollowed, his skin stretched too tight over his bones. His jaw twitched unnaturally, like he was holding too many teeth inside his gums. His eyes—no longer Sam’s—were bottomless ink, shining with hunger.

This wasn’t Sam.

“Eve—” he started, but a loud crash from the dining car distracted him just enough for me to react.

My hand shot out, grabbing the knife block from the counter, and I swung it with all the strength I had.

The impact was sickening, the crunch of bone reverberating up my arm. He staggered back, clutching his head. My legs were shaky, but I bolted for the dining car, hoping to double back and find another way out.

I barely made it two steps before he lunged, tackling me to the ground. We collided with the workstation, pans and utensils tumbled as we both hit the ground.

His hands were around my throat in an instant, his grip iron-tight as he pinned me down.

“You couldn’t have just made this easy, could you, Eve?” he snarled, his voice rasping and inhuman.

I clawed at his hands, vision blurring. My free hand caught a handle—cold, solid. I didn’t think. I drove it into his gut, hard enough to hear bone crack.

He recoiled with a guttural cry. His grip loosened enough for me to shove him off. Instinct took over as I brought my knee up, slamming it between his legs.

He collapsed with a choked gasp, and I scrambled to get away, the knife still clutched tightly in my shaking hand.

I slammed into the back door, throwing it open and bursting into the night.

I didn’t have a plan—I just ran. My only goal was to put as much distance as possible between me and the diner. The alley behind the diner was quiet, but the distant echoes of Ragnar’s fight carried faintly through the air, sharp grunts and the clash of something heavy hitting the ground.

Sam barreled into me, his inhuman strength slamming me into the wall. The impact rattled my bones. A sharp, sickening pop echoed as my shoulder dislocated, and I screamed. Hot tears began streaking down my face as pain burst like wildfire down my arm.

“You think you can run from us?”

Sam stepped back just enough to loom over me, his monstrous form illuminated faintly by the dim streetlights. His blackened eyes swallowed all the light, veins pulsing with unnatural rhythm beneath skin stretched too tight.

I tried to push myself off the wall, but his hand slammed against my shoulder, pinning me in absolute agony. This wasn’t like him. Not the boy who used to sneak fries when Louise wasn’t looking. Not the one who—”

“You could have just made this easy for me,” he hissed, drawing out my name like a taunt. “I’ve been waiting for the right moment, waiting for you to show what you can really do, so I could take you. But it doesn’t matter anymore.”

Terror clawed at my chest, and I tried again to reach for my magic, searching desperately for even a flicker of warmth. It was there, faint and unreachable, mocking me. I could feel its presence, but it refused to answer, slipping through my grasp like smoke.

My magic wasn’t coming. Fuck! Why had it chosen this moment to abandon me completely?

My fingers tightened around the knife handle—but my hand was slick with sweat.

Sam’s fingers reached for my throat at the same time that I twisted the knife upward—a desperate strike as our bodies collided.

I’m sorry.

The blade slipped beneath his jaw, hot blood spilling over my hand, soaking my sleeve. Sam froze, his blackened eyes widening in shock. Then that shock twisted into fury as he slammed his claws into my chest.

RAGNAR

The diner’s barren parking lot looked like a war zone.

Fire and debris rained down around me as I stepped outside, coming face to face with too many daema to count.

Each one was uniquely twisted: scaled skin glistened under the flickering neon glow, jagged claws and spread wings flexing in anticipation.

My eyes landed on the shithead at the front whose hands were still smoldering.

This one , I thought. I’m going to enjoy killing this one.

My fist clenched, molten magic itching beneath my skin, but my mind betrayed me with an errant thought of the girl I’d told to run. She wasn’t my concern right now. But the thought crept in anyway, uninvited and gnawing, like a splinter I couldn’t dig out.

One of the smaller daema growled, snapping its jaws as it lunged a few steps forward.

“You’re eager,” I muttered, rolling my shoulders. “Let’s see if you’re fucking stupid too.”

It didn’t matter how they knew we were here or who had sent them. I was going to bury them all alive.

I let the magic build until the ground beneath my feet groaned in protest. The heat of the earth below surged through me, crackling just beneath my skin, itching to be unleashed.

I exhaled sharply and let it loose.

The ground split open with a deafening crack, molten veins spilling out in jagged lines. The heat pulsed upward, and two of the daema closest to me were caught in its path. Their shrieks cut through the night, sharp and agonized, as they began to melt, the earth swallowing them whole.

I didn’t let myself relish it for long.

The remaining daema didn’t hesitate, their twisted forms moving like a pack of hungry wolves.

One of them lunged, claws swiping at my face. I ducked low, twisting away just as another came at my side. Their movements were fast, but not faster than mine.

I smashed my fist into a creature’s ribs with a bone-shattering crack.

Its body convulsed before it hit the ground.

My other hand ignited with volcanic heat as I slammed it against its chest again, the magic surging through its body in an instant.

The daema exploded into ash, its screams cutting off abruptly.

Another was on me before the ash had even settled, its claws raking across my arm. I grabbed it by the throat midair and slammed it into the asphalt hard enough to crater.

The rest circled me, growling low and snarling, their claws twitching with anticipation. They were testing me now, looking for an opening.

I let them.

I swung too wide, the next blow skimming past as the daema raked claws across my ribs. Sloppy. I was getting sloppy.

But their shrieks soon filled the night as I let my fury take over, their twisted bodies crumpling under my fists and magic. Each kill came with brutal precision.

I spun to meet another creature midair. My fist connected with its jaw, the force sending it sprawling to the ground. The creature’s final screams were swallowed by the roar of my magic.

There were only two remaining, their glowing eyes darting between me and the pile of ash where their pack mates had once stood. The daema I earmarked for a painful death was still standing. It growled, but didn’t move. Neither of them did. They were stalling—probably trying to delay the inevitable.

“Fucking chickens,” I taunted.

That worked.

Their hesitation vanished, and they lunged simultaneously, claws flashing in the dim light, and I braced for impact.

Then a scream echoed through the night.

Sharp, desperate, unmistakable.

Eve.

I slammed my fists into the ground without thinking, channeling the unrelenting power searing through my veins into the trembling earth. A jagged split ripped through the asphalt as molten rock erupted, surging outward in a violent wave.

The daema were swallowed whole, melting them almost instantly as the ground sealed above them, entombing them completely.

“Where are you, Hellspawn?!” I bellowed as I sprinted into the dining car.

My eyes darted around the room, scanning for her. The interior was a wreck, shattered glass crunched beneath my boots, the booths lay in splinters, and smoke curled through the air.

But there was no sign of her—just emptiness.

“Hellspawn!” I shouted again, my chest tightening as panic clawed at me.

The scream replayed in my head, sharp and desperate, cutting through everything else. My breath came fast and shallow, my focus splintering as an old memory slammed into me.

The thought of her bloodied form, her fire burning out in those final moments, crashed over me like a tidal wave.

Not again. I was done losing people.

I shoved into the kitchen, my pulse pounding in my ears as I scanned the back. Pots and utensils were scattered across the floor, and thick pools of blood coated every surface.

But there was still no sign of her.

The back door exploded off its hinges as I kicked it open, the force sending it crashing into the alley, and I finally saw her.

Blood streaked her clothes, and I could see her tiny frame trembling even from a distance. Her movements were desperate, erratic, but there was fire in her—a defiance that burned despite the daema towering over her.

No—I recognized him…

It was that fucking chef .

Before I could reach them, she moved.

With a sharp cry, Eve surged upward, driving the blade into the underside of the daema’s jaw. I ran to her, but the bastard’s claws struck her chest before I could close the distance.

Rage ignited—searing, blinding. I grabbed him by the neck and hurled him across the alley. He hit the brick wall with a thud, his head snapping back against the stone as he crumpled to the ground.

I closed the distance between us in two strides, ready to beat the living daylights out of him. My magic burned under my skin, begging to be set free, to reduce this pathetic creature to nothing but ash.

He tried to push himself up, his movements sluggish and uneven, blood pooling beneath him. My fist clenched, heat radiating from my knuckles, as I prepared to end it.

But before I could strike, his head tilted up, and his bloodied lips twisted into a grotesque grin.

“You can’t stop us, Titan ,” he sputtered, his voice gurgling with every word. “She’s ours—”

I snarled, driving my fist into his face with enough force to cut off his taunt.

His body jerked once, then slumped back against the wall, motionless.

“You really are full of surprises, firecracker,” I muttered, almost disbelieving.

I turned back toward her, but pride gave way to dread when I saw she wasn’t moving.

“ Fuck ,” I lunged towards her, just noticing how deep the punctures in her chest were. I tilted her head up, but it lolled in my hands, her breaths shallow and uneven.

The panic surged louder, drowning out everything else.

She wasn’t my responsibility. She wasn’t. But it didn’t fucking matter.

The pressure in my chest twisted into something unbearable, a molten knot of panic and fury and helplessness. My hands were slick as I cradled her against me, her weight far too light, far too fragile.

I was too late. Just like Columba. Just like—

No. She wasn’t allowed to die.

The thought was primal, a roar in my head, louder than reason. My magic flared violently, reacting to the single, desperate command pounding through me:

Get her out. Keep her safe.

“You’re not dying on me. You hear me?” I growled, my voice cracking.

The air around us shifted, warping and twisting. I pulled her tight against me, the magic snarling at my heels as I tore us out of there. Home. Somewhere safe. Somewhere I could still fucking save her.