Personal Demon
Page 103

“Oh, there he is. Let’s scoot you back in the car.”
My chance was evaporating. Was I strong enough yet to knock him out? Was I ever strong enough? The element of surprise. That was my only hope.
I let him lead me toward the car. I saw his gun on the front seat, where he must have laid it while trying to get me into the back. If I could swing the door open, hit him, grab the—
The flash of fangs. A growl that skittered down my spine. I went rigid, a name on my lips. Karl. I looked around, but of course, he wasn’t there. A vision. Meaning he was close.
“Hope?” Jaz’s voice. His hand squeezed mine, the other still around my waist.
Where is she? The snarled question reverberated through my head. A crack. Blinding pain. Only I didn’t feel pain. Just chaos, rippling through the air, floating up from…
My gaze flew to the railing.
“Hope? What do you—?”
Jaz followed my gaze. A small noise. An odd noise. Like a tiny chirp of fear. He dropped me and ran for the railing.
“Son—!”
The word cut off with a strangled cry. He ran back to the car, pushed me aside, clawed at the door, finally getting it open.
Where is she, you son of a bitch?
Karl. I swore I could hear his voice. Impossible from thirty feet below, but it was as clear as if he was beside me.
I walked to the railing. Seemed to float, pulled along by the tethers of chaos.
There, on the street below, Karl had Sonny on the ground, one knee on his back, hand wrapped in his hair, head pulled back so far that with the barest tug, his neck would snap.
Karl slammed Sonny’s face into the pavement.
Where is she?
I opened my mouth to shout. Then I saw Sonny’s hand, sliding from under his jacket. Karl didn’t notice, too focused on his task, the chaos waves even from this distance so sharp and hard they stopped the breath in my throat. Sonny’s hand slid out. His gun in that hand.
 
“Karl!” I screamed.
Jaz shoved me aside. He aimed his gun. It was too far. Too dangerous. He let out a strangled cry and jumped onto the railing, as if ready to leap off it.
A growl. A shot. A snap.
The last somehow seemed loudest, though I heard it only in my head. Heard it. Felt it. Saw it. The whites of Sonny’s eyes, rolling as his neck snapped. His face going slack. Head falling to the pavement.
 
HOPE: DEATH WISH
 
 
“No.” The word was barely a whisper. Jaz tottered on the railing. One lunge and I could have pushed him off. He toppled backward, half falling, half stepping down.
“No.”
He collapsed where he was and sat there, clutching the railing bars, Sonny’s name on every breath. His grief washed over me, so strong it blocked the death and held me as tight as any binding spell, unable to move.
I looked at the gun on the ground, dropped beside Jaz. I looked back into the parking garage.
“Don’t,” he rasped.
He still sat there, clutching the bars, face pressed to them, watching his brother’s body below.
I took a step back.
“They’re coming.” He rubbed his hands over his face, swiping at the tears. “Don’t leave me here.” He picked up the gun by the barrel and held it out. “Finish it, Hope.”
“You—you want me to—”
“I killed Paige. Killed Guy. Killed Bianca. Helped kill Rodriguez and Max and Tony. You want to do this.”
I stared at the gun.
“And if revenge isn’t enough…” He met my gaze. “Maybe pity is. I want to go with Sonny. Don’t let the Cabal take me. Please.”
I took the gun. Wrapped my fingers around the stock.
“Through the mouth. Or the back of the head. That’s the quickest.” A tiny, tired smile. “Maybe not the most chaotic, but if you get something from this—” His eyes lifted to mine. “Take what you can, Hope. My last gift to you.”
If he wanted to die, all the more reason to say no. Punish him. Turn him over to the Cabal. Make him stand trial. Let them execute him. But standing here, looking into his face, I still saw Jaz, and I still felt something. Maybe only pity, but it was enough.
He opened his mouth. I put the gun in.
“Step away from him now!”
I jumped so fast the gun barrel slammed against the roof of Jaz’s mouth. Two men in tactical uniforms approached from my left. Two more from my right. All with guns trained on me.
“You have five seconds to step away from him!” one barked.
Terror filled Jaz’s eyes, pleading with me to pull the trigger. For a second, the chaos swirling around me was too much and I stood there, dazed. Then I moved my finger.
“One second!”
A dark shape smashed through the two men on my left, knocking them aside like bowling pins. I saw Karl’s face. Saw his terror, felt it, as sharp as Jaz’s. He tackled me. I crashed down under him. Heard a shot. Heard him grunt in pain.
The tactical team rushed in, stepping over us to get to Jaz. When my head stopped spinning from the chaos, I realized I was still on the ground, Karl stretched over me, not moving.
I remembered the shot. Felt the weight of him, pinning me down. And then, a tiny whimper, bubbling up from my throat.
“Don’t move.”
His fingers gripped my shoulder, mouth moving to my ear.
“Wait.”
 
I let out the breath I’d been holding, then found myself flat on the pavement, lungs compressed by his weight, gasping—
“Sorry.”
He lifted up, giving me breathing room. Then he slid off me, his gaze fixed over my shoulder, watching the tactical team, as if expecting our first sudden move would bring a gun barrel swinging our way. But they had Jaz cuffed now. Cuffed and gagged as he writhed and struggled, eyes blazing. Then he saw me and went still.
Our gazes locked.
He jerked his head so fast the gag slipped. His gaze swung to Karl, catching his attention, making sure he had it, then turning to me.
“I’ll come back for you,” he mouthed.
With a snarl, Karl was on his feet. Two officers lifted their guns. I pulled him back down beside me.
“He wanted that,” I said. “He wanted you to kill him.”
I felt the chaos swirl from Karl as they took Jaz away. Not jealousy but fear.
They can’t hold him, Karl thought. He’ll escape. He will come for her. She’ll never be—