Wayward Son (Simon Snow, #2)(84)

Braden turns to us. He’s a different variety of cool than Lamb, but he’s definitely the alpha wolf of this pack. “Josh, no—don’t lower yourself.”

“Don’t do it, Josh,” I agree.

“I’m tired of them mocking us, Braden! We can be strong when it’s required of us!”

“That isn’t real strength, Josh!” Braden and I say at once.

Braden waves his gun at me, losing his temper. “Why didn’t you glue his mouth shut?!”

The Vegas vampires look bored. Some of them are still laughing. Lamb has got Baz by the arm again—he’s trying to keep him away from Simon, but Baz won’t be kept. He’s leaning over Simon’s body, pulling his own hair in his fists.

“I’ve got this,” Josh says, yanking me back into his chest. He takes a heavy breath, and then clamps his fangs into my neck— And then he falls over, oily smoke spiraling from his mouth.

“Josh,” I say, swooning forward. “I told you this wasn’t going to be good.”

On my way to the ground, I see Baz running for Braden, his arms flying around the other vampire’s neck.





60





BAZ


It’s a dead spot. We should have—I should have— Simon’s lying on the ground. His wing is bent the wrong way.

Lamb: “Yes, all right, I’ve betrayed you. Just keep your cool, Baz, and you’ll live to hate me for it.”

I’ll live …

Simon.

We heard gunshots. On the other side of the hill. And then we didn’t.

Simon’s on the ground, his wing is bent the wrong way. Someone should fix it for him. Someone should cast a spell. I’d cast it, but I’m in a dead spot. I’m in a Quiet Zone. I’m keeping my wand a secret, I’m pretending to be a vampire.

“Simon…”

Simon Snow.

The way you were. There wasn’t a day when I believed we’d both live through it.

(Through what, through what, through what?) Lamb: “The treaty holds!”

Simon:

Simon is on the ground. There were gunshots, and then there weren’t. His wing is bent the wrong way. His hair is a mess. He doesn’t have a sword.

I told him it would be all right.

I told him …

I didn’t tell him, I never told him. Not in a way that he believed. Not in a way that he could let in and hold on to. Everything he was to me. That he was everything.

Simon, Simon …

You were the sun, and I was crashing into you.

I’d wake up every morning and tell myself …

I’d tell myself …

“You live in fear! In denial!”

Simon is on the ground. His wing is bent the wrong way. His blood is red and abundant. It smells like brown butter. His hair is a mess, his face is in the sand. He doesn’t know how much I love him. He’s never really heard it.

I’d wake up every morning and tell myself …

“Simon … love … get up. We still have to save Agatha.”

Simon is on the ground.

This will end in flames.





61





SIMON


I’m going to get up. As soon as my head clears. If my head clears.

I think I’ve got holes in my wings.… Can I bleed out through appendages that didn’t originally come with my body?

I’m going to get up. As soon as I can. I’m waiting for the right moment.

The right moment will be the moment when I have a shot at one of these bastards. (I got at least one already. I yanked one of his eyes out.) (Heal that, fucker.) I’m getting up. So I can go down with a fight.

They took Penelope.

I can’t—

I don’t think I can— The vampires are fighting, I think. Maybe they’ll kill each other. That would make my job easier.

My job is getting up.

My job is going down.

With a fight.

I saved Agatha from a werewolf once. And from a Pegasus foaming at the mouth. I killed a dragon. By accident. Did you know that, one time, the Humdrum hid Agatha at the bottom of a well? I found her. I hauled her up.

He sent cravens, and I caught them in my bare hands.

Once there was a nar-do-whal. In the moat.

And I …

There were so many goblins.

So many trolls.

I killed them.

A gryphon. A diphthong. An aspssasin. And I …

They’ve got Agatha. They took Penelope.

There’s no magic here, but that’s okay—there’s no magic left in me.

I’ll take one more when I go. When I get up. And go down.

I’ll take at least one more.

For Agatha. And Penelope.

For …

“Simon…”

Baz!





62





SHEPARD


The vampire who bit me is definitely dead. And probably everyone here would be more horked off over that if Baz didn’t just grab the leader of the Next Blood by the neck and rip off half his jaw.

The rest of the San Diego vampires are emptying their clips into Baz and Lamb—and, incidentally, each other. Lamb’s crew hadn’t been taking any of this seriously; a few of them had even headed back up the hill after the Speakers were officially turned over. But now they’re running into the mob with their mouths open and their fangs all the way out.