The pain is blinding and unexpected.
Screaming, I fight him, the agony as sharp as the humiliation of him biting me again.
“Ethan, enough,” Sam commands from behind us. “Let her go.”
Ethan lets out a guttural, inhuman growl and throws me forward. I land against the couch. Before I can pull myself up, he has me again. He heaves me onto the cushions and holds me down, standing over me, my blood on his lips.
His eyes are wild, like that of an animal, and his pupils are huge. “Admit you’re mine, or I swear I’ll kill you now. I gave you this life—I can take it away.”
I scream in his face, thrashing against him, knowing I’ll never get away but determined to hurt him at least a little.
When he wraps his hands around my neck, stealing my air, I realize I’m in trouble.
“TELL ME YOU LOVE ME!” he roars, pressing me hard against the cushions.
I couldn’t answer him even if I wanted to. Helpless, I claw at his hands, desperate for air. Some distant inner voice reminds me Cassian said this won’t kill me, but that’s not terribly reassuring right now.
I begin to lose consciousness, my vision smudged with shadows. But suddenly, Ethan screams and rears back. His hands leave my throat, and I gasp, drawing in burning lungfulsof precious air. Each cough racks my body and feels like it’s shredding my throat.
Sam appears over me, his dark face concerned. “Piper, you with me?”
My throat hurts too badly to even scream, but I jerk up, trying to crawl away from the assassin. Underneath me, the cushions shift, thwarting my escape.
“Hey, it’s okay.” He stills me with a gentle hand on my shoulder. “You’re safe now.”
I freeze, realizing the room is quiet.
Slowly, my eyes move to the floor. Ethan lies motionless, eyes glazed over, stake firmly embedded in his back. Blood pools around him, reminding me of the thug Noah shot on my grandparents’ porch.
I gasp, managing a hoarse shriek. Then my eyes fly to Sam’s. “You killed him,” I whisper.
He looks vaguely uncomfortable. “I did.”
I begin to shake. “He’s dead.”
A rueful smile crosses Sam’s face. “You’re welcome.”
“You…you killed him.”
“I think we’ve already established that.”
“But youworkfor him.”
He laughs, sounding a little uncomfortable. “Not anymore.”
“What about all that vacation time you had?” I babble.
He runs his hand over his head. “It probably won’t be paid anymore.”
And just like that, I burst into tears and throw my arms around the assassin’s neck.
Not only does Sam let me cry on his shoulder, but he rubs my back and murmurs reassuring nonsense. It’s not a romantic moment. To be honest, I don’t really know what kind of moment it is.
I’m just really,reallyhappy to be alive.
And really happy Ethan is dead. And maybe that makes me evil, but right now, I don’t care. If I could turn back time and stab him myself, I would.
After I get control of myself, I sit back, drying my eyes on my arm. “Now what?”