Several figures burst through the crowd. “Claws!” one of them shouted, punching his fist in the air. It was Jenner.
Even as I gaped at him, he and the men he was leading opened fire on the Steel Knights around us. Dozens of the men with red bandanas crumpled, too startled to shoot back in time.
My appeal had worked. Not just on the one guy who’d warned us, but on Jenner and whoever else he’d spoken to as well.
Just for a second, my spirits soared. We could get out of this—get Rowan to a hospital, get Wylder patched up—
Then someone behind me grasped my hair and wrenched me away from the guys. Pain exploded through my scalp. When I lashed out with my fists, the muzzle of a gun jammed against my temple.
On my knees, I stared up to see Colt standing over me, one hand still clutching my hair, the other pressing the gun to my face. He sneered down at me before raising his gaze toward Jenner and the others, who’d stopped in their tracks at the sight.
“Drop your weapons,” Colt said in a voice so vicious it was almost a hiss. “Or your princess dies right here.”
Their gun hands wobbled, and panic shot up my throat. I might not be able to make it out of this alive, but the guys would still have a chance. If the Claws gave up, we were all dead.
“Don’t listen to him!” I said, my gaze darting around me for anything I could use as a weapon. “He’s going to kill me either way.”
“Bitch.” Colt wrenched my head back and forth so violently I saw stars. “I’m going to have my men shoot yours now, and you can watch them die in front of you, knowing you brought this on them.”
No. Wylder had refused to give up, and I wouldn’t stop either. I swung my hand toward my hair where Colt was gripping me, clawing at the strands—and my fingers brushed against something small and cool that came loose at their touch. Something I’d almost forgotten.
“No more surprises,” Colt said with a cold smile, and slammed my head against the wall.
Agony spiked through my skull. I fought against the wave of pain and caught his wrist with my other hand. As he twisted to the side to dodge the blow, probably thinking I was aiming to strike at his chest or gut, I stabbed Anthea’s pearl hair pin straight into his forearm where his artery would be.
Colt swore and kneed me in my belly, knocking the breath right out of me. I collapsed to the floor. His gun still trained on me, he glared down at the pin lodged in his arm. “Did you really think that would hurt me? Surely you—”
His voice cut out with a sway of his legs. His whole body lurched as he tried to regain control and failed. His knees gave, and he fell forward onto his hands, his gun smacking the floor.
Anthea’s poison had worked its magic.
“What the fuck did you do to me?” Colt rasped, but he was shaking all over, unable to catch his balance enough to spin on me. Anthea had said the stuff wouldn’t kill a man, just slow him down a lot. And that was all I needed.
“Get them!” Colt snapped out, but Jenner and his men were no longer so worried for my safety. The second any of the Steel Knights moved, they shot them, walking toward me and the guys to form a protective barrier around us.
Us and Colt. I heaved myself to my feet, ignoring the pain in my head and the spinning of my thoughts. I could still focus enough to finish the job I’d been waiting to carry out for so long.
“You, Colt Bryant, are a dead man walking.” I slammed my heel into his ribs, and he sagged to the floor. His fingers twitched around the gun before Gideon stepped in, kicking it away.
Gideon knelt beside Wylder and Rowan, pressing his hands to their wounds. “I figured it was reasonable to call for back-up now,” he murmured. “Your father’s men will be here within twenty minutes. Try not to bleed too much before then.”
As Wylder muttered something about disobedient underlings, I crouched with my knees on Colt’s back to hold him in place and then jerked down, slamming his head against the tiled floor with my elbow. I punched him once, twice, three times for good measure, until his nose crunched against the tiles and his eye was purpling.
And still he laughed, sputtering blood from his mouth. “You don’t get to win, Mercy. You’ve already lost everything.”
Rage unlike anything I had ever felt before turned my vision red. My hand found my fallen knife on the floor and raised it. The smile vanished from Colt’s face.
“No,” I said. “You tried, but I found everything I really needed. And now you’re never going to have the chance to take another person from me.”
I shoved him onto his back and slammed the blade into his chest. Blood welled up around the wound, and Colt’s expression stuttered.
I yanked out the knife and stabbed him again and again—for Grandma, for Aunt Renee, for every person in my family that he’d slaughtered. For Wylder and Rowan and Kaige and Gideon, who he’d tried to do the same to. More blood spurted up, hot against my skin, but I kept going, tears burning behind my eyes.
When my hand finally fell to my side, the handle slick against my palm, solid arms wrapped around me. They brought Kaige’s musky scent.
“You’re done, Mercy,” he said in a low voice. “He’s dead. Colt is dead.”
I blinked and stared down at the body before me. Colt’s head had lolled to the side, splattered with blood from the multiple wounds in his chest. His unblinking eyes shone glassily. Not a hint of life remained in his pallid skin.