Page 53 of Curses and Cures

Most of the Skull Brotherhood laugh, their breath coming out in huffs of air, but a few of them wince, their smiles twisted with sudden pain. One man at the back of the room covers his mouth with his hand, gagging. Two men next to him suddenly bend over, clutching at their stomachs as a strange coppery smell fills the air.

As if on cue, one by one Soren's men turn puce, colour draining from their skin as guns clatter to the ground and they bend at the waist, a bright neon yellow gore spraying from their mouths and splattering across the floor.

"What the fuck?!" Soren exclaims, eyes widening. He looks from his men then to Cyn with murder in his eyes. "You fucking bitch!"

In that moment, Soren comes to the same conclusion as I do, but rather than feel fury like him, I feel pride.

My clever, clever little witch.

She’s given us an opening. One we all take.

Dropping low, I elbow the big bastard next to me in the stomach, then twist my body in front of him and throat punch him as hard as I fucking can. It has the desired effect and as he gasps for breath, I relieve him of his gun, loading a bullet into his face, parting his skull like a machete through a watermelon.

One man down.

Around me chaos erupts, but I don't have time to check on the rest of the guys as I pull the dead man's body over mine, take aim and fire at the other Skulls nearest to me. I watch as they fall, one by one. The violent spray of blood mixing with the acrid smell of puke as their bodies crumple to the ground.

Six bullets. Six men, dead.

I pull the trigger once more, but the barrel is empty.

"Fuck!" I swear, shoving the dead man off me, then crawl like a fucking soldier on a battlefield until I'm beside the nearest table.

Behind me, Beast is in a brutal fist fight with a huge fucking man who’s as wide as he is, and just as tall. Both of them are roaring in rage as they grapple with each other. The man takes a punch to his gut, triggering a violent spray of puke that Beast just barely dodges but uses to his advantage as he severs the man’s spinal cord with a serrated knife. A little way over, Connall is picking off more Skulls, aiming at their heads and loading bullets into their bodies.

To my left, Lorcan and Arden are back to back as they move through the men, using each other as protection, working in tandem to cut them down. One of the skulls launches at Arden, managing to slice a blade across his bicep, blood spurts from the cut and for the briefest of moments terror grips my throat. But Arden doesn’t even register the pain as he shoots his attacker dead. To my right The Masks are battling another group of Skulls, a controlled kind of fury emanating off of each of them.

Shots ring out.

Men roar in anger, in pain.

Violence permeates the air, thick and bloody, mixing with the putrid smell of vomit.

Women scream.

Chairs are upended.

Silverware, plates and cutlery crash to the floor, all adding to the cacophony of sound.

Fists break bones. Knives slice skin. Bullets rip through flesh and muscle.

The Skulls literally shit their pants.

It's fucking carnage.

But none of that matters other than getting to Cyn. She feels like a million miles away as she grapples with Soren, who for whatever reason hasn’t succumbed to her poison yet.

One quick look over the table I’m crouched behind, and past the woman staring blindly up at the ceiling, her throat slit open by one of the Skulls just seconds ago, my gaze hones in on Cyn.

Soren has both hands wrapped around her throat, squeezing the life from her. Her face reddens from lack of oxygen, but still she fights, clawing at his wrists with broken fingers whilst the other women Soren threw to the ground a few minutes ago tries in vain to pull him off of her.

He's killing her.

He's killing the woman I love.

A mist descends.

It’s not red, but black.

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