Nightlife (Cal Leandros #1)(89)

Pale eyes glittered as even paler liquid was licked from a lipless mouth. "Like a fine wine. Here… have some." Spinning, he punched the blade into Niko's shoulder like an ice pick through wet cardboard. Nik had been drifting up silently behind him, sword readied for a decapitating blow. There wasn't any way Darkling could've heard him, preternatural hearing or not. Nik was genetically human, but there were aspects to him, skills he possessed, that were beyond human. How did Darkling know, then? How was he aware of Niko's flanking motion?

Because of me.

He'd shared my mind for long enough to know Nik as I knew him. What I could predict in my brother, Darkling would see just as clearly.

Niko reeled backward with the knife still firmly embedded in his shoulder. He didn't make a sound, simply steadied himself and transferred his sword to the other hand. With a face as set as that of a stone statue, he moved back into the fray. He didn't spare a moment for the pain and he didn't spare a glance for me. He didn't have to. He was as aware of me as he was of Darkling. And right now he was focused on saving me.

Trouble was… I was tired of being saved. I was tired of my ass being in a sling because Mom had needed extra cash and had diddled the boogeyman. I was tired of running and I was damn tired of getting caught. One way or the other, this was the end of it. One way or the other, the monster was no more. Was I referring to Darkling or myself?

I didn't know.

My fingers felt clumsy on the hilt of my borrowed sword, and my legs felt like someone else's as my squat became the distant, inbred cousin to a crouch. Rafferty's hand was still clamped on my shoulder, but his attention was fixed on the battle. Robin had dropped to the floor and rolled out from under Darkling, reaching for another dagger tucked against the small of his back as he went. Darkling himself had done a backward flip away from the wall into the center of the room. The venom he spat at Niko was a glittering mist in the air. Nik ducked to one knee, dodging it, then lunged up again. The toll of the metal penetrating his flesh was beginning to tell. The upper part of his shirt was soaked in blood and shock sweat was beginning to dampen his hair. It wouldn't stop him, though, I knew. Nothing short of death would.

"You're quick," Darkling commended, clapping his dark hands lightly. "For a sheep. But it didn't help you before, Cyrano, and it won't help you now." He cocked his head sideways. "I own him, you know. Little brother belongs to me. I've been in every part of him… every cell of his body, every fiber of his being. He's mine to use as I want. Mine. And there's nothing… nothing you can do." His voice was a thousand times more deadly than his poison. Soft, conspiratorial, and utterly soulless. "I'll take him just as before. You can't stop me. You can never stop me."

"But I can."

The sword that I plunged through his back came out his chest spraying foamy blood like milk. My voice was rusty as I repeated, "I can, you son of a bitch. I can."

The reptilian head swiveled, the silver eyes disbelieving. Didn't expect that, did you? I thought savagely. Didn't expect this half-dead sheep to do anything but lie down for you. I yanked the blade back out of him, the action half turning him. It was just enough for me to bury the sword in his stomach this time. I felt it catch and grind on his spinal column. "And you're not quick." The smile I felt split my face felt as unnatural as the white fluid cascading to the floor. "Not even for a sheep." I leaned sideways and jammed a foot under the point of entry, pushing him off the weapon. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Nik restrain Robin from coming to my aid.

Darkling tumbled to the floor, clawed hands trying in vain to stop the outpouring of blood. "No. NO." And surreally enough one hand lifted toward me… as if I would take it. As if I would save him. "We are one… you and I. One."

The next blow hit his throat. I swung the sword high and chopped at his neck with every ounce of strength left in me. The scales were some protection, and the head stayed attached by bands of muscle and flesh… just barely. Blood geysered from his mouth, bubbling horribly as he tried to suck air through a bisected trachea. The wound in his abdomen was leaking other fluids now, greenish ones that smoked and sizzled as they hit the tile. He was a mess, my former monster. One helluva mess.

And that's when I really got started.

Time passed. I didn't know how much, but suddenly Niko was there, prying the hilt from my hand. Robin had a sheet and was covering the ruined pile of mutilated flesh, splintered bone, and pulverized organs that mounded on the floor. It would've been a mystery what the creature had once been if you hadn't known. It would've been hard to recognize what had lived in you, controlled you, and then finally consumed you.

He'd eaten me alive, Darkling. Devoured me whole. Yet I was still here. I studied the slowly staining sheet blankly. How could that be? I dropped to my knees. I'd killed and been killed. I'd been the pale shadow of a monster and then a vibrantly gleeful, self-aware one. I had been swallowed and my soul dissolved. But I was still here. And I realized…

I wasn't at all sure I wanted to be.

The strength I'd had before melted away. I couldn't walk. I couldn't even stand. But I could crawl, and I did. I moved reluctant hands, pushed with my knees, and did anything I could to put distance between the others and myself. Now that it was over, I didn't trust myself to even be in the same room with them. I put my head down and ignored the sound of voices calling my name. I ignored it and tried to move faster.