Page 27 of Ruin

“Oh?” The figure tilted his head. “Why is that?”

“Because she’smine.”

Lira darted a glance up at the back of Ruin’s head. Hearing him call her his made her chest feel hot and tight. Did he mean that the way she wanted him to mean it?

He cared for her. She knew that without question. It was evident in everything he did—every touch, every look. But did he care for her in a ‘I want to keep you forever’ kind of way?

Because that’s how she felt about him.

Being on the wrong end of a gun in a dark alley wasn’t the time to be focused on such things, but it was hard to care about the danger when that’d been a constant in her life.

“Ah. Well, now. That is unfortunate.” Oddly, the assassin did sound at least vaguely regretful. “But you know the rules, Lurian. Once we take the job… ”

“Make an exception.”

“I like you, Lurian, but no. I don’t think I will.”

Ruin didn’t reply. He didn’t even tense in preparation to move.

One second, he was standing in front of her, seemingly unaffected. The next, she was somehow against the wall while he opened fire.

Shots crackled through the alleyway, the flashes blinding, but the two assassins were otherwise silent. For some reason, that eerie quiet made the fine hairs on her arms stand on end.

Ruin was a blur, twisting and weaving with preternatural agility to evade the onslaught. His own return fire struck with pinpoint precision, but none seemed to make it through the force field the cyborg had activated.

Desperate to help, terrified Ruin would be hurt or worse, she scanned everything in sight, searching for something, anything. Her heel struck something solid, and she dared a glance back to find a jagged piece of plasiform.

Snatching it up, she clutched it to her chest, acting on panicked instinct more than with any plan.

How, she had no idea, but Ruin managed to bounce a shot off the wall and hit the assassin’s hand, deactivating his shield and sending his pistol—and if she wasn’t hallucinating, a couple of fingers—falling to the ground.

For a shining split second, she thought that’d be it. Ruin would shoot this bastard dead, and they’d be safe.

But when he took aim and pulled the trigger, his pistol gave a hollowthock.

She knew little of guns, but she understood immediately that sound meant it was empty.

In an explosion of sudden violence, they lunged for each other, too fast for her eyes to follow. But she heard the dull thud of fists landing against flesh with perfect, stomach-churning clarity, saw the metallic glint of blades slashing and stabbing.

She watched on in breathless terror, pulse thundering in her ears, gripping the length of plasiform so tightly it cut into her palms, but the pain was distant, barely felt.

Muscles twitching, she waited for an opportunity to jump in and help, trying to track their movements for an opening. She didn’t know the first thing about fighting, but she could at least distract that asshole long enough for Ruin to gain the upper hand.

There! The assassin twisted so his back was to her. Seizing the opportunity, she hurled the shard with all her might.

The makeshift projectile glanced harmlessly off the cyborg’s helmet. But it distracted him for just a fraction of a second, and that was all Ruin needed.

With a sickening, wet crunch, the being crumpled to the ground in a boneless heap, the hilt of a knife protruding from the side of his neck, severing his spine.

A beat of charged silence fell over the alley as she stared at the downed assassin in shock. Then Ruin straightened, chest heaving, utterly calm but for the purple flush of exertion staining the tips of his pointed ears.

He turned to her, gleaming yellow eyes raking her over. “Lira.”

“Huh?”

“Are you hurt?”

“Uh.” She peeked down at herself just to make sure, then back at him. “I’m okay.”

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