Page 96 of Entombed In Sin

In a soft, nearly inaudible, reverent whisper, she speaks my name. “Thatcher.”

Her head flops back as her eyes flutter shut. The muscles in Knox’s arms tense as he tightens his hold on her.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Knox demands, scowling at me darkly.

I’m moving before I speak. The blade in my hand slides back into its sheath as my feet thunder down the three steps that separate us. My hand shoots out to grips the back of his head and to jerk him toward me. Our lips crash together in a hungry, desperate kiss. It’s brief, and when I pull away, I silently promise to rewire our souls together properly later.

“Sorry I’m late,” I reply as I reach for Beatrix. “But we’re here now.”

Knox pulls her closer to him, a knee-jerk reaction that causes me to pause.

“It’s ok, Pretty Boy,” I promise quietly. “Give her to me.”

“We have to stop the bleeding,now,” he says urgently, his blue eye sparking with a panicked urgency. “Did you kill Angel Eyes? We can’t let him get hold of her. Especially when he sees what she did downstairs.”

I shake my head. “No, he stepped out, which is how we managed to slip in. Come on, Knox. Let’s get her help.”

This time, when I reach for Beatrix, Knox hands her over. I take her weight in my arms and cradle my stepsister to my chest. My gaze falls to her face. Beatrix’s mouth is pulled into a tight line of pain, even in her unconscious state. Her chest rises and falls unevenly. My own constricts once more as a knot of emotions gathers in my throat.

I promised to take care of Beatrix. The sight of my failure curdles like sour milk inside me.

I’ll fix this, I vow silently to her.

Looking up, I glance at Knox. For the first time ever, I watch as a flicker of fear tightens the striking features of his pretty face as he stares at Beatrix in my arms. Even when Sagan and I had stabbed him the night we met, Knox never showed a lick of fear. He accepts life as it is, by either smiling or striking out. I hate seeing his fear now. I’m going to snuff it out as quickly as I can. Fear has no place among us.

Through clenched teeth, I growl out, “Let’s go.”

I turn and head back up the stairs. As I get to the top, Sagan appears. He takes one look at Beatrix in my arms and I feel the devil rise from hell through our bond. The heat from the fire that lights up the dark shadows in my brother’s eyes is almost intimidating. His upper lip lifts in a snarl.

“What happened?” he demands.

“Find me a first aid kit and I’ll tell you,” Knox snaps back, his voice twisted with stress.

Sagan’s gaze flickers behind me to him. My brother’s hand lifts and Knox pushes past me to take it. Sagan drags Knox into his chest before his head swoops down and he kisses Knox. It’s a harsh kiss, possessive. It lasts only slightly longer than ours had before Sagan pulls away.

“I saw one sitting open on the kitchen counter,” he growls out. “Now tell me what happened.”

“Beatrix killed Shannon, but during her absolutely, totally hot meltdown, she didn’t realize Shannon was fighting back. It’s like she didn’t feel a thing.”

My gaze drops to a piece of ceramic still protruding out of my stepsister. Everything in me urges me to yank it out. But I know that’s not a good idea. It could lead to more bleeding.

Sagan barks out a bitter laugh. “Sounds like my Little Viper struck.”

Pride sweeps through me. I’m so fucking proud of the strength she’d gathered up to get the both of them out of that basement. But suddenly that pride is tainted with a soul-crushing realization.

The world Sagan and I have created for ourselves is feeling a little bit too fragile. We thought we were gods. Two unmovable, dangerous forces to be reckoned with. But I'm beginning to realize that maybe we aren't so invincible. For three days, I've lived without Knox and Beatrix. They were the worst days of my fucking life. I've never felt so powerless and furious. Even as a kid, when Dad would beat the ever-loving shit out of me in his fits of rage—I'd never felt like this. I knew then that I just had to wait, to bide my time until I had an opportunity to strike back. Now, however, time isn't on my side. I’m powerless to stop the blood from pouring out of Beatrix, and I can't give Knox his eye back.

I've been weakened. I see that now. I’ve poisoned myself with love—an emotion so thick and consuming that fighting against it was never an option. It would’ve been impossible. But why fight it when it feels so damn good? There's a downside to allowing this emotion to consume so wholly, though. This is the first time I've experienced the pain that comes with it. It's taking everything in me not to panic and rage. My chest feels like it's about to crack open from the hurricane force of the helplessness and devastation rattling inside me. Knox is here and hurt, and Beatrix…? My gaze drops to her, and I choke down a groan of despair.

She’s so fucking perfect—we can’t lose her.

Sagan’s knuckles caress the back of Beatrix’s cheek before he pushes past me and heads down the steps. “Get her patched up, and we’ll get out of here.”

“Where are you going?” I demand. “We need to get Knox and Beatrix?—”

“I’m going to leave Angel Eyes a message,” he says from the bottom of the stairs.

I don’t wait to see what he’s doing. Knox and I head to the kitchen quickly. There, on the counter by the far wall, is a first aid kit.

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