Page 26 of No Saint

“Devon!” He yells again.

The man sprints towards us, blood on his face and hands.

“Lincoln!” I cry.

“He’s fine, Amelia,” Devon instantly soothes, “He’s not hurt. It’s not his blood.”

He gently pries my fingers from the wound and a whimper escapes my lips. Gabriel tugs me away from him. “Don’t fucking touch her.”

Devon sighs, “Gabriel, give her to me. I’ll fix it.”

“Let me go!” I hiss at Gabriel, pushing on his chest, “Get your hands off me!”

He stares at me, a softening I didn’t like to see in those fiery eyes. I bare my teeth at him.

He grunts in response before he lets me down, keeping a hold on me until Devon takes over and ushers me away.

I feel his eyes burn into my spine the entire way.

12

“You’re lucky,” Devon mumbles, his face a mask of concentration as he stitches up my arm, “a few inches over and it would have gone through.”

I take my eyes off Lincoln who plays with some blocks in the middle of the floor, a discarded plate of cookies next to him, “Lucky?” I scoff, “Nothing about this situation is lucky.”

Devon moves his eyes away from the wound. The bullet had grazed my arm, enough to give me a deep gash that required stitches, but it hadn’t gone through, and nothing was damaged. I felt nothing there after Devon had injected the anesthesia though the sensation of him tugging the needle through me wasn’t pleasant.

I was a mess of blood and dirt but other than the arm, I was fine. Lincoln didn’t have a scratch on him thanks to Devon and Gabriel’s mother who I had still yet to meet.

I had no idea what was going on outside of this room though I heard the shouts and the orders, the anger radiating from Gabriel and Asher.

How many had died? How many were injured?

“Don’t think about it,” Devon whispers, placing his tools down.

“What?”

“I see it, Amelia, that look in your eyes, you’re thinking about the dead.”

“How can you not?”

He shrugs, “When you see it, deal it on a near daily basis, it’s just one of those things you learn to live with. Death is inevitable.”

“You’re right,” I agree, “It is, but most would prefer a simple death, not one full of bloodshed and screams. Most of those who died today would have expected to go home tonight.”

“You think any of the guests here today are good people, Amelia?”

“There were city officials here!” I argue.

“And they’re the most corrupt of all!” Devon fights.

“How?”

He closes his mouth, shaking his head. “When Gabriel wants to let you in on how this city runs, he can tell you. Stay out of trouble.” He closes his kit and starts to walk away, “And get changed, Amelia, you’re covered in blood.”

He leaves me alone with Lincoln and I glance down at the ruined dress, the sleeve where the cut is, cut off so he could get to it and the blood on my skin. I’d escaped one misery only to land in another.

I stand and go to Lincoln, plucking him from the floor just as the door opens.

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