Page 90 of Shadow Dance

There’s yelling, a lot of it, and I think I might hear sirens but I can’t be sure. It’s hard to see because blood is dripping into my eye. I wipe it and squint across the foyer to where Jaime and Callum are rolling around the ground. I know Callum’s hurt, but he’s so hopped up that his energy seems boundless. Jaime, on the other hand, is fighting injured. I have no doubt that he’d have had the upper hand normally, as he’s in excellent shape, but that bullet wound has him at a serious disadvantage.

I don’t know if they ran out of ammunition or if something happened when I went down, but the only weapons they’re using now are their fists.

“Maeve,run!” screams Jaime, his voice raw but almost garbled, like he can’t talk through the beating he’s taking.

Adrenaline soars through my veins, pushing me to my feet. I take off for the bedroom, slipping and falling on the blood in the hallway. Something falls in the other room. More glass breaks. I get up and keep going, bursting into the bedroom.

There are definitely sirens now, but they’ll be too late.

I yank my underwear drawer open so hard it comes right out of the dresser and I fall back on my ass. A rainbow of panties showers out like confetti, revealing the Glock 19 I keep hidden in there. It’s loaded; Jaime told me not to keep a gun unless I was ready to use it.

Every second happens on its own. I’m not planning or even thinking about what I’m going to do, I’m just doing it. I go back down the hallway. I avoid the blood this time and return to the foyer right in time to see Callum get the advantage. He starts whaling on Jaime, his fists connecting wildly and furiously. Jaime is getting in hits too, but they're few and far between, one arm noticeably weaker than the other. Seeing him like that guts me.

“Stop it!” I scream, cocking the gun. “Callum!”

I don’t know if it’s on purpose or because he’s too far gone, but he ignores me. Raising the gun, I shoot the ceiling. Plaster and dust rain down.

Everything stops. Callum turns slowly, and it’s like a demon has taken over his face. There’s so much hatred, violence seeping from his pores like sweat. “Put that shit down,” he rasps, his voice nearly gone.

“Get off him,” I shriek. I can hardly get the words out, I’m shaking so badly.

Callum climbs off Jaime and comes at me so quickly I don’t have time to think. I’m back in San Leandro, aiming for my target.One shot. Two.I’m ready for the kickback but not the look on Callum’s face as it morphs into surprise and confusion. He falls, maybe a foot away from where I’m standing, twin blooms of blood spreading across his shirt.

Blood is everywhere, splattered across the wall and even me. I drop to my knees, vomiting. After a second I peek at Callum, but he’s not moving except for a single tear leaking from his eye.

Across the room, Jaime is also still. With a strangled sob I crawl over to him, horrified by the swollen, mangled condition of his face. I put ahand on his chest and my ear to his mouth, checking for signs of life. Shallow, stilted breaths puff through his lips, and while his heartbeat seems faint, it’s there.

And then I can’t stop crying, the sobs and gulps so deep that I’m almost gagging.

I just killed someone.

I just killed Callum.

I killed Callum.

I turn my face aside, heaving again, and again, but there’s nothing left in my system.

“J-Jaime … Cruz … don’t die,” I whisper brokenly, putting my head on his chest. If he would only open his eyes a second, give me some kind of sign, I’d be okay. “Please, please, don’t leave me.Please.I love you.”

I feel, rather than hear, him moan. His fingers brush against my hair before falling to his side, and I cradle his hand, careful not to squeeze the swollen flesh. I don’t know the extent of his injuries, but I cling to the hope that this gives me. I can’t lose him now.I can’t.

The brief interlude of silence that followed my killing Callum ends with flashing lights and men in what look like SWAT uniforms busting down the door. They scream at me to drop my weapon, which I’d forgotten I was even holding.

I sob openly as they surround me, filling the house, walkie-talkies crackling, boots squeaking on the floor. The sun is coming up, and morning light floods the windows, illuminating the chaos and carnage with beams of orange and gold. I can see dust motes dancing in the glow, something peaceful in all of this terribleness.

It looks like a war zone.

While part of me knows that this is only the beginning, that there will be an investigation and trial, that I’m going to be questioned and doubted, I’m too concerned with Jaime to care.Cruz. His name is Cruz.

I’ve heard of police officers going deep undercover, but where does he go from here? Provided he survives, how does he rebuild his life? We knew we couldn’t be together, but how can I walk away from him now?

A light pressure on my arm pulls me back to reality. There’s a woman with a blonde ponytail squatting down in front of me, saying something. Her eyes are so blue they’re nearly lavender, and she’s pretty,too pretty to be doing this, I think. I stare at her, unable to focus. The woman frowns, pity and compassion softening her expression.

The police realize pretty quickly that maybe I am a victim too, because after asking a couple of questions, they wrap me delicately in a blanket and load me into a waiting ambulance. I hear comments aboutall the other dead bodies, and I wonder who they are, where they are, and if Callum was the one that took their lives. If it was Griffin, or Mac.

Now that the adrenaline is gone and my hysteria has died down, the physical pain takes over. Everything hurts, even blinking my eyes. I can’t imagine what I must look like, and I don’t have the energy to care.

All I care about is Cruz. Do they know he’s one of them?Of course, they don’t.

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