Page 173 of Oathbreaker

She leans in closer. She’s so close that I can see the flecks of gold in her green eyes.

“Your very existence annoys me. You sicken me, if I’m honest, and not just because you and your people are a waste of space on this planet. Not just because of your intellectual and physical inferiority to me. But because somehow, you—you crazy, used-up, inconsequential facsimile of a human being—have managed to inconvenience me. You’ve managed to make things difficult for me, and that is intolerable.”

Her sick smile grows.

“You people think you can take over this country, turn it into some poverty-run free-for-all. ‘Eat the Rich’ you whine, but in reality, you want to be like me. You’d kill to be in my shoes. But we won’t let you take over this country and run it into the ground like you people have tried to do around the world. You won’t replace us.”

She stands and steps back slowly, keeping her eyes pinned on me until there is a solid fifteen feet of space between us.

“I want to play with your dead body. I want to tear you apart, piece by piece. I want to examine you like a lab rat—like the vermin you are. Maybe I’ll find something that makes you different, but I doubt it.”

I contemplate shooting her now, just pulling the gun out and squeezing my trigger to mow her down, but I know before I’m able to get my bullet out, Blair will have shot me in return.

I have to get more distance. I have to get August out of here.

Before I can move, I hear a swift snick, and through the open bay, I see the person perched on the roof of the manor fall, rolling quickly over the shingles to smack into the ground.

Blair quirks an eyebrow, but the loud, long blow of a horn interrupts her next action.

The ground beneath us shakes, and there’s a low rumbling in the distance. With each second it grows, and we both whip our heads to look toward the main house through the hangar opening.

Even more smoke billows from the front side of Amelia Manor, and guessing from her slightly bewildered gaze as she analyzes the building, I don’t think the destruction comes from her crew.

And because my gaze is fixed on Blair, I note the precise moment when she rolls her eyes.

“Well,” she says, not looking at me. “It’s time for you to die.”

But before she can turn her head to lock on me fully, my gun is out and pointed at her chest.

I pull the trigger and fire.

THIRTY-FOUR

HUNTER

Misha has a tank. I almost thought he was joking when he mentioned getting the massive military vehicle on the back of a transport truck and sending it to Amelia Manor with the ground crew.

I didn’t question him about anything else when I saw the armored vehicle roll onto the back of an oversized eighteen-wheeler two minutes after our standoff in Misha’s office.

“Come with me in the helicopter,” Misha yells over the commotion. At least two hundred people rush through the compound, and all of them carry guns. Their orderly movements would stun me if I weren’t so enraged.

So yes. Helicopter good.

Leo and I file into the MD500 and put on the headsets hanging from the ceiling. Before I can close the door, Misha hops into the pilot chair.

“Where are we landing?” I bark out.

“We’re going to the front door,” Misha says, his voice just as short.

“Is that wise?” Leo asks, his jaw tight. I’ve never seen the wild look in his eyes before.

“Oh yes,” Misha replies. Then he presses a button and heavy artillery weapons release from the side of the aircraft.

“Ah,” I say.

Seconds later, we’re in the air, speeding toward Amelia Manor. Misha’s focused face reveals the calculations spinning in his brain. I glance around the cabin. MD500s are military aircraft, and with the weaponry on the outside and the ARs and AKs mounted in the back, it certainly feels like one.

Although Misha pilots the helicopter smoothly, Leo’s leg bounces up and down, mirroring my movements.

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