Page 39 of A Blade of Lies and Spirits

He shoved me toward the window. Since he hadn’t killed me yet, I assumed that the price was higher for taking me alive. I went limp as soon as he let go of me, dropping to the carpet and rolling toward the big mahogany desk. His kick caught before I got to it. It took two more kicks with tactical boots for ribs to break. More pain stabbed through my chest.

Ouch.

“Copy, fall back. Joining you out the northwestern window. Fall back to rendezvous point,” he said. “Primary package acquired.”

I couldn’t stop the tears from the broken nose, and I could only breathe through my mouth. The ribs made that difficult.

William laughed, picked me up bodily, and used me to try to break the window. I couldn’t quite strangle the scream.

He held me up by the back of my shirt, and I struggled to breathe. For a moment, the memory of hanging on the Tree rolled over me and I went limp, before I found my footing again.

Laughing, he shot the window, which rained down in slivers as the safety glass cracked.

I closed my eyes to protect them, holding in the cry of pain. No point in letting him enjoy this too much.

A sharp crack shivered through the air. He pitched forward, falling on top of me. I couldn’t get free of his weight and I gargled, choking on blood.

“Well, you look quite the mess.” It was Chance’s voice. The weight rolled off. I tried to get up and hands steadied me; from their size, they were Joan’s.

“I can set your nose so it’ll heal straight rather than crooked.”

Since I must have looked a fright, her calm voice made me wonder where a young woman of her presumed experiences had seen things like this.

“Yes, thanks.” My voice sounded nasally and muffled. I tested my teeth with my tongue and two were definitely loose.

“Do it before I free her hands. I don’t want you to get hurt by accident,” Chance said. I made a miniscule nod in agreement.

“This will hurt,” she warned. She knelt next to me, her skirt dragging in the puddle of blood, mine and William’s. Her hands hovered over my face, then she mashed them down on my nose, and twisted my face to the side.

Agony stabbed through the back of my head. My stomach heaved, and I screamed between spasms of vomiting.

“I’m cutting the tie.” Chance’s touch was fast and sure as the straps parted.

The words made no sense as I went limp, trying to find a space to settle between the waves of pain. Pressure on my wrists, then my hands and elbows fell free.

A cold hand brushed my forehead, and a cool mist seeped over my face with the touch, rolling over my nose and swollen eyes. It made its way down to my mouth, then flowed over my chest.

Agony faded into simple pain. The working alleviated some of the swelling and quickened my natural healing process. Walker’s was better than Joan’s. All the healers who helped me left reminders on me, to try to make me rest. I wondered if there was a memo out there, somewhere.

Not that I’d complain.

I opened my eyes. “Thank you.”

Chance gazed out the window; Joan knelt in the glass next to me. Even though it was smooth-edged, it dug into my bare legs. The pink crease of a healing burn crossed her neck and brushed her right earlobe. The pale hair around it was scorched short, giving her an unbalanced appearance. No sign of—

“Where’s Walker?” I asked, that funny feeling fluttering in my throat.

A fey smile flickered across her triangular face. “Clean-up; one of the mages ran and Walker chased after to drag her back. The Wardens are a minute away. Since this is a good neighborhood, I expect we’ll have some answers—otherwise the insurance rates would go up.” The smile disappeared. “Do you know who they were after? The Dumonts? Dmitri? You?”

I shook my head. “Me and Dmitri taken. Not sure why.” It still hurt to talk and breathe, though not with the intense pain it had been earlier. I tried to steady myself on all fours, to stand, and felt larger hands grip and guide me as I rose.

By the time I turned, Chance had moved to the side, gazing through the broken window. William’s body, most of the top of his head missing, lay sprawled on the gray carpet. Red and gray matter was intermixed with the broken glass, coating the side of Robert’s desk as well.

One of the company’s rifles was propped against the wall, pointed away from us. The carelessness made my skin twitch: those things were dangerous. I had no idea how Chance had managed to use it; fingerprint locking was standard for those weapons.

I didn’t think the stains would ever come out. I staggered a few steps, so I could lean against the opposite wall from the rifle. Joan paced me, hand ready, though I doubted she could bear my weight.

Chance said, “The Wardens just showed up. The Fire and Disaster departments behind them. They must have stopped jamming our communication, or someone else called to say we needed help.”

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