Page 92 of Worse Fates

And in a split second, I have a choice; end one life, or save two

The needles aim—then fire, slicing the night open.

I grab hold of Summer and Rurik in a punishing grip and hurl the three of us away from the needles. The sharp edgescut through the air and miss Summer by a hair’s width as we collapse in a heap on the filthy ground.

Eric, isn’t as lucky.

Like a grotesque butterfly, he’s pierced to the wall. Arms flapping uselessly at his side, gargling on a throat full of blood.

An engine roars to life and then in a cloud of burning rubber, Mickey is gone.

“GIVE ME BACK MY MATE!” A bellow of pure rage rips from Rurik. Leaping to his feet, fangs bared and sharp enough to rip out a throat, he charges after the car.

Summer is frozen to the ground, but when Eric wheezes and chokes, she jumps into action and scrambles to him on her knees.

“This is bad, Lucero! Quick, get over here!” she cries.

Flicking a chunk of flesh off my shoulder, I raise an eyebrow. “And what do you want me to do, exactly?”

Summer shoots an appalled look at me over her shoulder.

“I could kill him faster?”

Lip’s pursed in anger or disgust, or maybe both, she sneers, “Golden would be fucking horrified to see this.”

I have a beat of inaction, before I’m next to him within a blink, hand clamping around his chin so he’s forced to look at me.

“You feel no pain.” My voice drops as my compulsion begins to take hold, sinking like sharp points into the soft tissue of his brain.

All supernatural creatures have natural defenses against vampiric compulsion, so as I press my will into Eric with the grace of a butcher, blood leaks from his nose. He’s dying anyway, I don’t need to be gentle.

“There is no guilt, or sadness.” I scrape away memories, rip out fears and make room for my voice to scramble what's left. “You will accept your death for whatit is, a peaceful release.” My tone may be gentle, but on the inside his brain is bruised and battered beyond repair.

Yet through a drugged haze—he smiles. Loopy and dazed, every blood vessel popping like a firework against the white of his eyes.

Summer remains at his side, clutching his hand. “No one deserves to die alone,” she whispers as he takes his final, rattling breath.

Fast footsteps approach from behind, then Rurik comes into view.

“Assholes ran off before I could follow them,” he bites out. “But Apollo has to be fucking close.” He grabs his hair. “He just has to be, damnit!”

“Brother.” I stand, grabbing hold of his forearm. “We’ll find him, I promise. First we need to clean off and I have to check on Golden.”

Summer’s mouth drops open. “What about the bodies?”

Rurik rips out of my hold and, ignoring the death at his feet, paces. Shoes splashing in the disgusting puddles of red, oil and water.

“I’ll deal with them,” I tell her off handedly.

“How?” she demands.

Frustrated, I rip my soiled jacket off and toss the thing, not caring where it lands. “I’ll dump them in the closest body of water.”

Summer shakes her head, cursing gently under her breath. “This was all just such a pointless waste of life.”

“Who gives a shit about these assholes?” Rurik growls. “We aren’t saints, but I can count on no hands how many times I’ve skinned a person alive.”

Summer rakes her fingers through her long hair, walking a few steps away. Muttering under her breath.