Page 35 of Last Violent Call
“Fan nainai?” Juliette yelled, kicking through the front door.
When Roma followed, the two of them charged into the room as smoothly as a zip parting along the middle. Juliette picked up a cup on the table and hurled it fast at the man lunging for Mrs. Fan; Roma raised his pistol at the man who had already gotten ahold of Mila, forcing him to freeze with one hand around her arm. She looked terrified. Her knuckles were bright pink, as if she had tried to fend them off. At the other side of the room, Yulun had a broomstick in his hands, raised in preparation, though he was shaking.
Both of the intruders had angels tattooed to the sides of their necks.
“Release her,” Roma commanded. He walked a step closer to the man. “Now.”
The other mercenary slumped to the floor. Juliette had thrown the cup hard enough to smash into shards between his eyes, knocking him out.
“Calm down,” the first man said. A syringe appeared in his other hand. “I am not here to retrieve her. I have only been told to collect a vial of blood for research. Then I will let her go, and we are all happy.”
“No, stop!” Juliette called. Extreme alarm filled her tone. “You don’t understand—”
The mercenary pricked the needle into Mila’s arm.
As soon as the needle touched her, Mila screamed and hurled herself away with unnatural strength.
Then her hands flew to her throat.
Roma was flooded with memory at once, standing stock-still in the room, unable to move. Alisa. The very same madness had infected Alisa that first time and she had tried to claw out her own throat, and Roma hadn’t been able tohelpher—
“Yulun!” Juliette shouted. “Give me that damn broomstick!”
With a cry of fright, Yulun threw her the broomstick just as she was running forward, and with barely any pause in her movement, she smashed it hard on the mercenary’s head. At last, Roma snapped out of his stupor, lunging for Mila and trying to tear her hands away.
“Mila, Mila!” he yelled as blood streamed down her neck. “You’re going to be fine. Hold on! Just hold on!”
Juliette abandoned the broomstick as soon as the mercenary went down, tossing it to the floor and scanning the space around him. As Roma used his whole strength to keep Mila’s hands still, he couldn’t see what Juliette was doing—not until he turned, prepared to shout for some rope so they could tie Mila down, and he caught sight of her lunging for the dropped syringe.
They were taking the risk, then.
“Roma!”
“It’s in my pocket!”
She scrambled to retrieve one of the vials. Tore the stopper out, then stuck the needle into the liquid, filling its whole barrel. Just as Milawas about to claw right into muscle, Juliette stabbed the needle into her arm and plunged down.
Immediately, Mila went limp.
A whimper sounded in the room. Yulun.
Slowly, Roma released his tight grip on Mila’s wrists. Her hands had stopped fighting him. Her eyes were glazed over. Yulun ran forward, coming to a stop before her.
“Mila?” he whispered. “Mila, are you okay?”
Mila stayed silent. Staring. At her other side, Juliette sat down on the floor with a sudden thump, looking ready to cry. Mrs. Fan hurried to her, hunching down to pat her shoulder.
“You did your best,” Mrs. Fan whispered.
“Mila,” Yulun called again. He tapped her face repeatedly. “Please, say something.”
Roma took a step back. He couldn’t watch this a second longer. He couldn’t watch if Mila were suddenly to collapse, and with that thought alone, he himself folded down, staggering before Juliette and sinking to his knees.
“Juliette,” he said hoarsely. He reached for her hand.
“I can’t bear it,” she replied, just as quietly. “Not more loss. Not—”
“Yulun?”
