Page 85 of Bad Moon Rising
“Looks like not for long,” Flynn said.
Roman opened his mouth, but no sound came out. His throat burned. His eyes felt like someone ground sand into them.
Cooper stood back, and a lanky human hovered in front of Nova, grinning.
“Who are those guys?” the monarch asked.
Flynn spoke up, “Members of the A.W.L. They’re good at killing lycans.”
Liar.Cooper postured, but he’d never actually hurt anyone in his life. This would be his first kill. A part of Roman hoped he couldn’t do it. The other part knew if he failed, the other guy would do it.
Thunder pounded inside his head.
He was nothing without her.
Air barely moved through his chest as he stared at the phone on the edge of the desk, next to the computer. He grabbed it and texted Cooper.
Stop this.
On screen, Cooper aimed a gun with a suppressor at her.
Nova slurred out, “You executing me does nothing. Hope survives.”
Roman felt her words were meant for him, not Cooper. But she was sedated. Maybe she talked gibberish.
Cooper dropped his gun arm. He met the gaze of the other guy. “I’m not sure how…if I can.”
“For fuck’s sake.” The other guy grabbed the gun and shot four successive times into her chest. Her body jolted with the impact of each bullet. Blood spread in small circular holes, saturating the cream-colored shirt she’d worn earlier. He watched helplessly as the human approached, knife in hand, and slit her throat. Not a small slice but a deep score of her neck. That would’ve separated tendons. Blood poured from the wound, soaking the shirt. Hours ago, her clothes had been pristine.
No coming back from that.
They watched her gurgle gasp, and then stop breathing. Her eyes dilated as she stilled.
“Check her pulse,” the other guy ordered Cooper.
On screen, Cooper cringed as he reached as if to check the pulse in her neck, but stopped. Instead, he lifted her wrist and held his fingers against the pulse point for several long seconds. He shook his head. He stuck his face in front of the camera. “She’s dead.”
Moments later, the feed ended.
His mind numb, Roman fought against the howl rising in his throat. Shock spread through him. He was going to crumble any second. He sought to catch Flynn’s gaze, seeking strength and help, but Flynn still stared at the dark screen, equally shattered.
“Do you accept it’s done?” Flynn asked in a voice far steadier than the horror reflecting in his gaze.
Pale and affected by the brutality they’d watched, the king nodded. “It’s done. She’s dead and the threat eliminated. What did she mean by saying hope survives?”
“She was drugged out of her mind. Who knows?” Flynn replied tightly. “Maybe she hopes to return as a ghost and haunt us.”
“I don’t believe in ghosts. Glad she’s dead,” the king said as he exited the office. “Glad all that’s done.”
A gurgling noise rose from Roman’s throat.
Flynn clapped a hand on his shoulder before Roman charged the monarch.
“Gerard, I’m sure there’s some new shitfest you want us to send us to clean up somewhere else in the world, but give us… We’re going downstairs to weapon up.” Flynn hip nudged Roman to move toward the door.
Roman stumbled and then shuffled to the exit.
The moment the door of Gerard’s office closed, Flynn slapped a hand over Roman’s mouth. “Not a peep. Not here. Keep it in. They don’t get to see you this way.”
