Page 86 of Black Heart

Morelli’s papery skin stretches taut over his skull as he snarls. “My health is no concern of yours.”

Kaden coughs, a wet and ragged sound that sends alarm bells in my head warning me that he’s injured, but he keeps hisattention on Morelli. “But it is. Because I want to know exactly how long I have to make you suffer before you take your last breath.”

Fury contorts Morelli’s features into something inhuman. His finger twitches on the trigger and I squeeze my eyes shut, bracing for the bullet to tear through my skull.

But the bang never comes.

In a blur of motion, Kaden snatches a gun from the limp hand of one of Morelli’s fallen men and shoots with deadly precision. The bullet ruffles the hair at my temples and buries itself in the forehead of the henchman holding me hostage.

The pressure around my neck vanishes as the man crumples, his body spasming. I stumble forward, gasping for air, my vision swimming. Kaden is there in an instant, his arm encircling my waist, holding me upright.

He kisses my temple, then murmurs, “Just stay with me, Wraithling. You’re almost out of this.”

I nod weakly, clinging to him as he turns to face Morelli, shielding me with his body. Morelli’s face is twisted with outrage, his gun still trained on us. But there’s a flicker of distress in his cold gray eyes now, a realization that he may have underestimated Kaden.

“I’m not one to torture the terminally ill,” Kaden says. “But for you, I’ll make an exception.”

Kaden squeezes my arm, and too late, I realize it’s a symbol of farewell before he’s on Morelli in a whirlwind of savage fury that doesn’t care whether it lives or dies.

His fists thump against Morelli’s gaunt face, the sound of fracturing bone and loosening muscle filling the room. Morelli staggers back, his face a pulpy mess, but Kaden is relentless. He grabs Morelli by the lapels of his suit and slams him against the wall, the impact rattling the shelves.

“Where is she?” Kaden roars. “Where’s my daughter’s body?”

Morelli’s lips pull back in a bloody grin, his teeth stained crimson. “You’ll never find it.”

Morelli’s expensive suit is now a tattered mess, soaked through with his own blood. But still, he laughs, a gurgling, choking sound that makes me shudder.

“You ... can’t ... win...” Morelli gasps out between bloody coughs. “I’ve already ... won...”

Kaden’s hands wrap around Morelli’s throat, squeezing with all his strength. Morelli’s eyes protrude, his face turning a mottled purple as he claws at Kaden’s iron grip. But Kaden doesn’t relent, his eyes rabid with a decade’s worth of a grudge.

“This is for Cassie,” Kaden growls, his voice unrecognizable. “For every day you stole from her. For every nightmare you gave me. For every piece of my soul I sold off to get to you.”

With a sickening crunch, Morelli’s neck snaps under Kaden's hold, his knees buckling and his body sliding to the floor in a heap.

I make an audible gasp, then I’m reaching forward, as if my arms could get me to Kaden faster than my legs, when a deafening crack splits the air.

Kaden’s body jerks. He stumbles back, then turns, his hand clutching a spot near his shoulder, blood seeping through his fingers. He goes for his holster with his injured arm, trying to raise his weapon, but his fingers won’t respond. The gun clatters to the floor as he staggers, his left hand instinctively pressing against the wound that made it through a gap in his protective gear.

He falls to his knees.

“Kaden!” I scream, sprinting toward him.

His face pales and he sways to the side. I get there in timeto catch him and gently lay him down, my tears mixing with his blood. “Kaden, no, please…”

My heart is in ruins as I cradle Kaden’s head in my lap, my fingers stroking his sweat-damp hair. His breathing is labored, each inhale a wet rattle that sends iced-over vines of dread into my stomach.

“Stay with me,” I whisper, my voice cracking.

His eyelids flutter open, revealing those captivating blue eyes I’ve come to cherish, now glazed. “Wraithling…”

His hand, slick with his own blood, reaches up to cup my cheek. I lean into his touch, uncaring of the wet streaks he leaves on my skin.

“Shh, don’t try to talk.” I attempt a watery smile. “Save your strength. I’m going to get you out of here, get you patched up.”

A ghost of a smile flickers across his lips. “Always the optimist.”

“One of us has to be.”

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