Last Violent Call (Secret Shanghai, #3.5)(35)

Then her hands flew to her throat.

Roma was flooded with memory at once, standing stock-still in the room, unable to move. Alisa. The very same madness had infected Alisa that first time and she had tried to claw out her own throat, and Roma hadn’t been able to help her—

“Yulun!” Juliette shouted. “Give me that damn broomstick!”

With a cry of fright, Yulun threw her the broomstick just as she was running forward, and with barely any pause in her movement, she smashed it hard on the mercenary’s head. At last, Roma snapped out of his stupor, lunging for Mila and trying to tear her hands away.

“Mila, Mila!” he yelled as blood streamed down her neck. “You’re going to be fine. Hold on! Just hold on!”

Juliette abandoned the broomstick as soon as the mercenary went down, tossing it to the floor and scanning the space around him. As Roma used his whole strength to keep Mila’s hands still, he couldn’t see what Juliette was doing—not until he turned, prepared to shout for some rope so they could tie Mila down, and he caught sight of her lunging for the dropped syringe.

They were taking the risk, then.

“Roma!”

“It’s in my pocket!”

She scrambled to retrieve one of the vials. Tore the stopper out, then stuck the needle into the liquid, filling its whole barrel. Just as Mila was about to claw right into muscle, Juliette stabbed the needle into her arm and plunged down.

Immediately, Mila went limp.

A whimper sounded in the room. Yulun.

Slowly, Roma released his tight grip on Mila’s wrists. Her hands had stopped fighting him. Her eyes were glazed over. Yulun ran forward, coming to a stop before her.

“Mila?” he whispered. “Mila, are you okay?”

Mila stayed silent. Staring. At her other side, Juliette sat down on the floor with a sudden thump, looking ready to cry. Mrs. Fan hurried to her, hunching down to pat her shoulder.

“You did your best,” Mrs. Fan whispered.

“Mila,” Yulun called again. He tapped her face repeatedly. “Please, say something.”

Roma took a step back. He couldn’t watch this a second longer. He couldn’t watch if Mila were suddenly to collapse, and with that thought alone, he himself folded down, staggering before Juliette and sinking to his knees.

“Juliette,” he said hoarsely. He reached for her hand.

“I can’t bear it,” she replied, just as quietly. “Not more loss. Not—”

“Yulun?”

Roma’s gaze whipped up. Juliette’s breath snagged. As Yulun gave Mila another encouraging tap upon her face, Mila blinked rapidly, life returning in the flush of pink rising to her cheeks.

“What happened?” she asked. “I think I lost consciousness.”

He felt Juliette tighten her grip on his hand.

“You were going for your throat,” Yulun answered shakily, trying to wipe off some of the blood at her chin. “But they got to you in time. Roma and Juliette got to you.”

Mila glanced at them. Her hair was tangled. Her eyes were bright.

“I’m… I’m not affected by the experiments anymore?”

Juliette sniffled. She was still holding the syringe in her other hand, and Roma took it from her carefully. He rose upright with the unsteadiness of a startled woodland creature, gesturing for Mila to hold her arm out.

“Tell me if there is even the slightest strange feeling, all right?” he said hoarsely.

Mila offered her wrist, still slathered in red. Roma brought the syringe near. Nearer. Its point touched down on skin, then sank in the barest hairsbreadth.

“Nothing?” he asked her.

Mila shook her head. “I don’t feel anything.”

Roma’s breath of relief practically filled the room, stretching from corner to corner. When he turned back to look at Juliette, he caught the single tear tracking down her cheek, but she wiped it before anyone else could see.

“Then you are free,” Juliette declared.





13


The fireplace was crackling.

Juliette sat with her legs curled on the sofa, a blanket thrown over her lower half. It had gotten rapidly colder this week, rain pouring hard on the rooftop panels and collecting in large puddles. Before he set out for errands, Roma had built the fire to prevent the entire house from feeling like an icebox. Warmth escaped too easily out of the cracks in old infrastructure, but at least they owned plenty of blankets.

There was a book on her lap. To tell the truth, she hadn’t been reading for the last ten minutes, too focused on not dripping persimmon juice everywhere while she munched on the fruit. Yulun had sent a gift basket after they’d settled into a new residence, returning near his mother and her teahouse. The two angel-tattoo mercenaries had also been sent Ah Tou’s way. Though they could hope that the facility would be scared into leaving Mila alone after receiving reports of so many failed attempts, there was no way to know. But regardless of whether a new group might show up or if the facility would give up, Mila wanted to return to her regular life. She had been freed of the experiments. She wouldn’t be compelled to hurt herself anymore. That was the most important thing.

And if anyone else tried, Mila was also armed and had gotten very good at stabbing.

The rain pummeled on. Juliette finished her fruit. Turned the page. Most of her light was coming from the fireplace, since the day was too gray and groggy. She angled her book over her knee, then grimaced when it shifted her blanket and gave her leg a shock of cold air.