Page 45 of Terror at the Gates

My fingers closed around the grip. I aimed at his chest and pulled the trigger.

The shot was loud, and his blood spattered my face. I sat up and scrambled away until my back hit the frame of the car.

Burke staggered and fell to one knee, looking at me. That strange glow in his eyes was gone.

“Kill me,” he said. “Please. I don’t want to do this!”

I shook my head.

One shot was bad enough. Two would be considered overkill.

“Please,” he begged, his teeth clenched. “Please!”

When I didn’t move, he growled, baring his teeth, lunging like an animal. I shot him once more. He landed face down on the pavement and didn’t move again.

Despite how badly I was shaking, I rose to my feet. I kept my gun pointed at Burke, even though I suspected he was now dead.

I crept toward the front of the car where I found the dead driver and another man—Koval, the other enforcer.

“What the fuck is happening?” I muttered under my breath, wincing as I turned to look back at Burke.

My headhurt.

I started toward the car. I needed my stuff, and then I needed to get as far away from here as I could before I called for help.

As I went to step over Burke’s body, I noticed something gleaming beneath him. Before I realized what I was doing and what it was, my fingers had already grazed the hilt of the golden blade. A bone-deep cold took root inside me, and my fingers tightened around the weapon.

As I straightened, I heard a voice.

“Beware…”

And then a thousand more.

Beware, beware,beware.

I fell to my knees. The strike made my head throb and my vision blur. I fought the urge to vomit, my stomach roiling, fingers digging into the desert sand. As I waited for the feeling to pass, I became aware of my body. My skin felt tight and chapped, stretched too thin over my bones. I ran my rogue tongue over my cracked and bleeding lips, devoid of moisture. Even my eyes were scuffed from sand, so dry they felt shrunken in my head.

The whispers did not cease, their warning punctuated with the beat of a drum. I didn’t know where it came from, perhaps my own heart, pounding, pounding,poundingin my chest.

As I listened, words poured from my lips.

Beware, goddess of night,

Mother of the moon.

There is poison on your tongue,

Venom in your blood.

Lie upon my altar,

Bleed upon my steps.

Release me from these bindings,

Break down these carmine gates.

I tasted blood, and as it coated my tongue, I felt restored. When I looked up, I found that I knelt at the mouth of a large cave. The darkness reached for me. I rose to meet it.

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