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A gunshot fired.

Silence.

Bishop stopped, his face falling, his expression unreadable. Madison instantly stopped crying, wiping the tears from her cheeks with her blood-ridden fingers. Red.

“Bishop?” she asked softly, before carefully standing to her feet. Bishop’s head tilted downward. I followed his movement, and my eyes caught the red stain of blood slowly seeping through his white shirt. His hand came to his stomach before he fell to the ground.

“Bishop!” Madison screamed with such high pitch tones that it shook the street. Whoever was still fighting instantly stopped mid-air, the last of Katsia’s men took the distraction as a time to escape, all scattering off quickly into the wild bushes. Madison flew to where Bishop laid and dropped to the ground. Hector ran, following Madison. Nate used his arms to drag his body along the pavement in an attempt to make it to him.

Bishop’s chest was heaving up and down. Nothing was heard but the crackling of his own blood caught in his throat. The curdling desperate attempts of breathing. The hopeless endeavors at staying alive.

Madison’s screaming grew more frantic. “Don’t you die on me!” Red.

I started walking toward him.

Madison’s cry slowed to a desperate plea, and when Hector pulled Bishop’s shirt up to inspect the wound, I knew instantly it wasn’t good. Blood was gushing out of his wound, trickles leaking out between his lips. He struggled to string any words together, but his hand flew to Madison’s and he pulled her down to his chest, burying his face in her long hair.

“Bishop! Don’t you fucking die on me,” she continued to howl into his neck. I tilted my head.

“Son, I need you to hang on tight, you hear, we have a medic team here. Don’t you fucking go anywhere, son! I just lost your mother, I can’t lose you too!” Hector roared, his palm tightening around Bishop’s other hand.

Blackness slowly started to fade with the electrifying color of vibrancy coming into view.

The smug smirk I had so proudly worn slid off my face instantly. “This is my fault.” Guilt slammed into me as Madison’s grief shook my bones.

“No!” she screamed. “No, no, no!” She banged on Bishop’s chest. So much red.

Nate tried to pull her away as Tate sat down beside her. “Madison, honey, come here.”

“No! Leave me alone! No, he’s not dead. He’s—he’s, Bishop!” She howled again, her screams sending birds to dart from the trees. Her weeping pulled so much emotion that tears fell from the grown men who were huddled around Bishop.

My heart broke into two. Te amo, soror mea.

“This is my fault.” I slowly lifted my hand that held the thick heavy knife and launched it into my throat. Pain shot through as my own blood started to slip over my hands like slime.

“Daemon!” Tate yelled from somewhere as I fell to the ground.

“Daemon?” Madison screamed again, her voice coming in and out.

“I’m—I’m sorry,” I gurgled, blood filling my throat as my vision blurred. The clouds in the sky swirled with the soft blue endless sphere, and my eyelashes fluttered. I tried to suck in more air, but I was drowning. Drowning in my own blood. I deserved it. Red.

“Daemon!” Madison’s voice was coming in quick, her face hovering over mine. My vision was now completely vivid in color, no more stygian.

A hyena laugh ricocheted off the lifeless walls inside of my brain.

My eyebrows pulled in, confusion seeping into every nerve.

We. Win.

“Trickery!” I roared, my back arching off the ground just as death’s grip took hold of me.

“What the fuck!” Nate pulled at his hair, stepping backward.

“Daemon?” I wiped the tears that were pouring down my cheeks. I cradled his head under my arm and kissed his forehead. “No, no,” I wept, slowly rocking him. Something snapped in my chest, opening up and seeping its pain through my veins. My heart was lifeless, my fingertips numb and my legs aching. “No!” I screamed when his eyes lifelessly fell to the back of his head.

I squeezed at the wound on his neck, not wanting to take the knife out. “No. You’re going to be ok. It’s ok. I’ll fix you. I’ll always fix you,” I mumbled to myself, pawing at his wound like a cat would.

“Madison…” A hand came to my arm.

I reared back. “No. He’s not dead.”

Heavy combat boots came into view. “Baby…”

My eyes flew to Bishop. “No! He’s not dead!”

Bishop watched me carefully. “I’m going to tell you about a demon called Trickery, one of his six…”

I shook my head, wiping the tears off my cheek with my blood-soaked hand. “No. I don’t want to hear any more. I don’t” —my eyes cut straight to Katsia— “You…” then I slowly put Daemon’s head back to the ground. When he was safe on the pavement, I gripped the knife that was in his neck and pulled it out. Flicking it around in my fingers, I flew toward her. “Bitch!” I pounced on her like a tiger would on a gazelle, wrapping my legs around her waist.


Tags: Amo Jones The Elite King's Club Dark