Suddenly, I understand what love has done to me. I was so focused on killing Rath, I did not stop to consider how Jax would react if I did. She has bonds with this traitor. She was an accomplice to him. And all the other humans. She is inextricably socially tied to this traitor, for better or for worse. And so, perhaps, am I.
“If you love me, you’ll spare them.”
I do not care for the way she says that. I could love her and murder Rath without a second thought. What she really means is she will never love me if I kill these deserving creatures.
“I cannot let them go.”
I should simply pull the trigger and deal with the aftermath later. Humans are notoriously forgiving. It is one of their worst traits. They also almost pathologically side with the aggressor, a hand-me-down from their brutal animal past.
“Rath K’zar had your family killed, and your leader loves him nonetheless,” I remind her. “Think of this as justice for them, the lives that were lost. The ones who triggered all this suffering. He did that.”
Rath lets out a growl. He does not like to be revealed in this way. I can see what he has done. He has made this little band of humans dependent on him. He never had any shortage of charisma or charm. I was always astounded how he could manage to do the most terrible of things and somehow come out of them more beloved than before.
“Please. Krush. Don’t do this. Don’t….”
“Sorry, Jax.”
She might imagine she is defending Rath, but she barely comes up to a few inches above his waist. There is plenty of flesh left to pierce with a projectile.
I squeeze the trigger, and all hell breaks loose.
My gun does not fire. It is as if it has been remotely blocked by somebody with the codes to royal weaponry. That is my first indication that things are not what they seem. I thought I had flushed out every last traitor, but it would seem that I did not flush long or hard enough.
Instead of creating a reaction in which a projectile renders Rath a large piece of bleeding meat, the trigger deploys a host of reactions around me. Soldiers come bursting out of every nook, cranny, and crevice, like a hoard of scum. But these are korabi soldiers. And their weapons are trained on… me?
I am momentarily very confused.
And then I see Tusk. Who is supposed to be on Earth. But is not.
He steps out of the crowd of soldiers, a very unpleasant expression on his wild face. Tusk has never seemed entirely civilized to me. He is a beast wearing a korabi suit.
“Hello, Krush.”
There is no honorific ‘sire.’ There is no respect at all. There is a smirking, crowing triumph in the curl of his lips and the flash of his teeth.
"You are unfit to rule. Your father always preferred Rath K’zar to you. His instincts were correct. You are too soft, too impulsive. You don’t want to kill your enemies. You tried to send us away. I told you, Krush. You should have taken a bride and produced an heir. Instead, we have this very unfortunate situation.”
“Is that what you call a coup, Tusk? An unfortunate situation? You are betraying everything you ever pretended to believe in.”
“I believe in myself, boy. Enjoy prison.”
The soldiers try to arrest me. It does not go well for them.
“Leave him alone!” I can hear Jax screaming and pleading with the others for mercy. There is no mercy for anybody present today. We have reached the pinnacle of our mutual violence. Every frustration, desire, plan, and need is coming to a head.
Dozens of soldiers dash themselves against me and die. I wonder after dispatching each of them, why they don’t just shoot me. It would be far more easy for them to riddle me with the threatened bullets. But they don’t. They clearly want me alive. My dead body will be difficult to humiliate. They need me still breathing to make their point.
“Enough!” Rath calls the soldiers off, too late to save most of their lives.
I have been victorious so far, but that does not mean I will be for much longer. Killing twenty-four soldiers has left me covered in their blood and more than somewhat tired.
“Rath! Please!” Jax is begging for my life. Poor little thing. The bastards lured her here as much as they lured me. I no longer know precisely who was the bait and who was the target.
Rath stalks toward me, his augmentations gleaming beneath his dark purple skin, his unholy eyes locked on me in that gold and pitch-black stare. Even the wind appears to be in his favor, blowing his raven mane back from his face, while it pushes mine around me in a golden hair halo.