Page 39 of King of the Dawn

“Eve, get behind me,” Rose tried to push me behind her, but I held my ground. No! Not this time! Not with two babes in her belly. I needed to stand between this vile man and the innocent life in this young girl’s body. I would not let him do to her what he had done to me. No. He’d do worse. He’d kill the child, and I couldn’t allow that.

One of those babies was named after my husband. My love. And he adored that child without even seeing him. I would carve out my own heart to protect the little ones, so they had a chance to bounce on their grandfather’s knee. They needed a chance to be happy, in the love that only my husband, and his family could possibly provide.

“Eve!”

“No, daughter,” I said, enunciating the word as a command. Just like Jericho would. “You protect the babies, and get out of here. He’s not here for you. He’s here for me.”

The shears glinted in Tanner Brock’s hand. He tilted it left and right, as if it was a heat-seeking missile, twisting in the wind to find its target. Me, or Rose.

The target was me.

It had to be.

Because I was a mother, in my own way. And a grandmother. Even if only in the most technical way. Even if only by a blood vow. But that was the oath, wasn’t it? The handfasting meant that his family was mine. That Jericho’s burdens would be mine. And so, too, were his precious kin. If he would stand bodily between them and danger, then surely, I could too.

“Tanner,” I tried to affect a sweet, seductive voice, and he almost jolted in his skin, surprised by my change of tone. “Look at me. Let her go.”

His eyes fixed on me, and I tilted my head. I started to hum a sweet, slow song. When his eyes tilted back to Rose, I changed my voice.

“Blood on his lips…” I sang quietly. The song. The curse. The one that had frightened them so much that they saw it in their worst nightmares. The melody I had comforted myself with all those years with my late husband, as they did unspeakable things to me. As they took away my youth, my dignity… and for a while, my very soul. A soul I got back when Jericho handed it to me, wrapped in a plaid ribbon that bound our bleeding palms together.

Rose’s steps diminished. They were slow, light, and meant not to stir his attention from me. But he was entranced, like a mouse in the gaze of a snake.

I relished being the predator for once. Even for just a moment. Even if it was the last thing I did.

“Hate comes from shame…” I was strengthened by all the joy I had felt over the last few, short weeks. As a fiancee. Then, as a bride. Then the all too brief time I spent as a beloved wife to a man who worshiped my body as every woman desired.

I decided that those moments were enough for a life. I got to see a rare flower bloom. With it, I bloomed too. Even if for just a sweet, perfect moment.

“I’ll wear red to your funeral,” I spat out.

Tanner’s rage colored his cheeks red. He groaned, then growled. Then his teeth bared as he ran towards me, the shears in his hand swinging up. I ducked low, shutting my eyes. I pulled the gardening knife from my pocket, piercing up, opening my eyes just long enough to stab at the fifth intercostal space. Just like Jericho had taught me, during that dinner that had sealed our fate.

I felt it. The softness of flesh giving way onto the metal, and then the weight of him. He was so, so heavy. He fell onto me, but the knife was limp. His hands fell with him, and wetness, sticky and metallic in taste covered my face. Warm, and soupy.

His weight brought me down to my knees. Was I dead? I didn’t feel pain. But maybe that was because this was the end. The end should be painless, if you’ve already endured more scars on the soul than any one mortal should.

I didn’t believe my end would be so serene, but I felt light. I felt… whole.

Chapter Sixteen

Jericho

“She’s in there with him!” Rose screamed over the phone.

“What?” I said, gruffly.

“Brock, he found us. He was disguised…”

“Why aren’t you in there with him!”

“Eve told me to leave. She… she made me go.”

I covered my eyes. Of course. I knew my daughter was pregnant. And my wife, the woman that she was, would protect the innocents. The twins in her belly. Of course, my daughter left. That was the only sane thing to do, but my head…

“I’m sorry, Juju,” I said under my breath. “I just… I’m so used to…” I was already getting my coat, my gun, and walking out the door.

My grandchildren. My daughter. My wife. Everyone was in danger, and I wasn’t there.