Page 62 of Song Bird Hearts
It’s a weapon.
The book is bound in cracked leather. There’s no title on the spine, just a strange, embossed and foiled sigil, one only inner-circle members know. The number “27” is there, too, in case someone needed further clarification the sins this thing holds. Inside is everything we need, everything Valerie needs, to disrupt everything.
I’m just tucking the book into the lining of my coat when the door behind me opens and I tense. I’d known something was off, known this was too easy, and yet still, I’m surprised when that door opens and he walks in. I didn’t even know he’s in town, that my chances of running into him were high. I might have thought of a better plan if I had.
Victor Mallace.
The name hits like a blade to the gut. He steps through the vault door slowly, deliberate, like a man who’s been waiting a long time to settle a grudge. He still wears the same gloves, all black leather and scuffed knuckles that I’ve always seen him in. He still moves like a soldier left too long in the field.
The man is one of the Foundation’s top cleaners. When he smiles, you can tell he enjoys hurting people. Someone like him doesn’t belong anywhere near my little star, and I’m going to make sure he never gets the chance to go after her. Because if he leaves here alive, they’ll send him. They always send him.
“Thought I smelled something rotten,” Victor drawls, stepping fully into the light. “You always did stink of sentiment.”
“Victor,” I say smoothly. “Still doing the Foundation’s dirty laundry?”
Victor’s grin widens. “You always thought you were better than us just because you’re up there with the suits. You aren’t. And I’m going to enjoy bloodying up that pretty face.”
The door slides shut behind him with a hiss, locking us in together.
“Good to know you think I’m pretty,” I reply, my expression hard.
“How long you gonna pretend you’re clean enough to deserve that woman?” Victor asks, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck. “She’s an enemy of the Foundation. Which makes you a traitor. You know what they say about traitors.”
“Yeah,” I say, slowly undoing my cufflinks and tucking them into my pocket. “They’re usually right.”
We launch at each other without further conversation. I strike first, quick and brutal. A punch to the throat. A knee to the gut. I try to disable him rather than kill at first, mostly because I want him to hurt, but Victor isn’t built to fall easily. The cleaner catches me mid-swing, twisting my arm violently behind my back before slamming me face first into the metal wall. My vision explodes with stars and it reminds me of Valerie, a blissful moment behind all the pain. I throw my elbow back, wild, but Victor ducks and drives his fist into my ribs instead. The crack is loud in the room, like a gunshot going off too close to my ears. The pain blooms white-hot a split second later.
I stagger when he shoves off of me, but I steady myself and prepare for more. This won’t be an easy fight to win, not when he’s built like a tank. Victor lunges, grabbing me by my coat and throwing me across the room. I crash into a shelf of classified items, the contents raining down around me. Something sharp pricks my arm in all the chaos, but I ignore it. My hip growls in protest at me as I try to get back up.
“That the best you got?” Victor sneers, circling me. “I expected more from the famous Wolf.”
“Not even close,” I grunt, rising up slowly.
The second round is uglier.
I go low, diving forward like a bull, ramming Victor into the vault door. I slam my shoulder into his gut, jab him in the solar plexus, follow it up with a head butt that cracks Victor’s nose and makes my head ring.
But Victor just laughs despite the blood streaming down his mouth. “Still soft. Here you are, big man, weak for a woman whose blood belongs to the Foundation.” He wipes the blood off on the back of his sleeve. “Sheisa pretty thing, isn’t she? I wonder what she tastes like.”
“You’ll never know,” I snarl. “Because she belongs to me.”
Victor grabs me by the hair when I lunge for him, and I fight against his tight hold that threatens to scalp me. He yanks me back and headbutts me twice, once to stun, once to maim. I reel under the hits, trying to maintain my bearings in the midst of the pain. Another punch to my face knocks me off my feet and into the wall. Pain blooms around my eyes.
Victor shoves me down hard, his boot to my chest, my ribs screaming. I wheeze, my vision swimming as I try to keep myself together. My hand reaches instinctively toward my belt as he presses me down.
Victor kicks my hand aside.
“You should’ve stayed gone,” Victor says, looming over me, panting. “You gave up everything for her.”
“Yes,” I cough out, smiling through blood. “And I’d do it again.”
Victor reaches for something at his back, but that’s when I move.
I surge up with a blade drawn from my boot and catch Victor under the ribs. I shove it deep and twist, eager to stop him from going after my little star. Victor screams, but I don’t stop. I pivot, using Victor’s massive weight against him, and slam him face-first into the vault wall. Then I rip the blade out and drive it right into his neck, once, twice, three times.
Blood sprays across the metal, hot on my hands. The massive man slumps with a gurgle, twitching as I stand over him, my chest heaving and my mouth full of iron. My ribs are probably broken, at least some of them. My eye is slowly swelling shut. My suit is torn and soaked in blood, both with mine and Victor’s.
The vault lights flicker just as an alarm begins to shriek.
