I closed the distance between us.
“Reina.” I didn’t feel my mouth move, but her name left my mouth over and over again. I undid one chain, her frail body falling into me. “Hang on, Reina. I’m taking you home.”
Her body was cold. Too cold. I rushed undoing her other arm. Her skin was clammy, her eyes closed and her beautiful face heart-wrenchingly bruised. I gritted my teeth, a combination of fear and rage slithering through my veins.
I brought my face to hers, dread filling my chest. Her lips were blue. Pale blue. The only color on her was that of blood and purple cuts.
A soft gasp sounded.Hers. Like a flicker of light in the darkness of hell, I latched on to it. It was the best sound I had ever heard. She wasn’t dead. I could feel the faint rising and falling of her chest. Keeping her head lifted with one hand, I pressed my mouth on her forehead.
“Just don’t fucking die on me,” I rasped, my voice shaking. “Please, Reina. Don’t die.”
Her eyes fluttered open, the dullness of her blues hitting me right in the chest.
“M-my diablo.” Her voice cracked and a single tear rolled down her face full of bruises. “You came.”
“Always.” Fuck. My throat squeezed and my heart bled. The Devil never cried but for her, I might. “I’ll always come for you, Reina. What's a diablo without his queen?”
Her eyes fluttered shut, then a fit of coughs followed, shaking her body. I shot the chains holding her legs hostage, disintegrating it, and her body jerked. I wrapped my arms around her, not letting her fall.
Her fragile body hit my chest and I swore my heart broke at that moment. Seeing the state of her body. She was limp in my arms. She lost consciousness, probably looking for reprieve in oblivion.
She should have never experienced this. I should have protected her better.
I was too wrapped up in taking care of her when a strong arm wrapped around my neck from behind, crushing my windpipe. My wife’s unconscious body slipped from my grip, hitting the floor.
Fuck.
“You’ll never have her.” I recognized the voice. Santiago Tijuana. His grip tightened around my throat. “She screamed for you. Cried for you. Begged for you.”
I didn’t listen to his words. They’d fuck me up. I just reacted. I had to get Sailor out of here.
“She’s something, your whore,” he taunted. “That mouth on her.”
A wave of red filled my vision, fury feeding my rage. I wanted to tear him limb from fucking limb. Sailor’s limp body laid immobile, her eyes shut, and her once platinum blonde hair now covered in red. Like my rage.
“I was going to sink my dick into her today but you had to show up,” he seethed. “I was going to take that privileged pussy for a test drive, you fuck. Because she’s mine.”
I pulled my arm forward, then sunk a hard elbow in his ribs. Again and again. Santiago yelped, the fucking coward trying to pull away. I jerked my elbow again and hit with all my force. Electricity shot through my elbow, and I relished in his yelp of pain as his ribs were crushed under the force of the impact.
“She’ll never be yours,” I spat out, his grip still too tight on my neck.
I reached into my front pocket and pulled out my switchblade. At that same time I pushed the button, I swung around my arm, then pushed the knife into his neck.
A tortured hiss left his lips and I spun around, seeing the miserable piece of shit holding his neck, attempting to stop the bleeding. If I had time, I’d heal him, only to fucking slice him again. So he’d get a taste of his own medicine.
But I had no time to waste. My reina needed me. She was hurt and my priority. So I pulled out my gun, aimed it at his forehead and pulled the trigger. Six times. So if anyone found his sorry ass, they’d know the devil had found him.
Sliding my jacket off my shoulder, I threw it around my wife’s half-naked body, then lifted her into my arms. I headed back for the staircase and found my way back the same way I arrived, Sailor’s frail body in my arms wheezing every so often.
“Stay with me, Reina,” I begged. I didn’t give a fuck how I sounded. She was all that mattered to me. She pressed her face into my chest, her body shaking.
The way out seemed a lot longer than the way in. I was eager to get us out of here. I came too far to lose her. Gabriel needed her. I fucking needed her.
We stepped out in the courtyard not a moment too soon. Another explosion detonated, deafening me and sending rocks flying through the air.
“Raphael!” Sasha shouted, reaching me. The fucker was waiting, despite the fact I told him to fucking leave. It was what made him a good man. A good friend. “You crazy bastard. I thought you were lost.” His eyes lowered to Sailor in my arms and fury covered his expression. “Jesus fucking Christ.”
Sailor was out cold, which was probably better. “We have to move,” I told him.