Chapter 51

Fifty-One

My blood runs cold at his words and the gleam I see blazing in his cruel eyes. For a moment, a shudder of fear passes through me as I stare at my husband. Roger is completely at ease despite the fact we outnumber him. That's what makes me realize he must be planning something. Roger would never be so sure of himself otherwise.

"It's a trap," I whisper, my voice shaking a little. I'm proud that it doesn't tremble more, that I'm able to fight against my fear. I'm not alone here. I'm not facing my monster by myself.

Diamond stands tall at my side, his eyes as dark as his soul as they focus on the man before us. "How clever of you," Diamond purrs. "Did you take his card before or after he died?"

Roger sneers at Diamond, distaste dripping from his expression as his wicked eyes run down Diamond's body. "Does it matter, freak? You weren't so hard to track down. You ran like you thought you had a chance of escaping me." He looks at me. "As if she could ever get away from me."

"I don't belong to you," I declare. This time, there's no shake in my voice as I raise my chin in defiance, letting him see the truth in my eyes.

Roger meets my gaze. "Yes," he says, a smirk pulling at his lips, "you do."

He snaps his fingers, and more movement comes from the darkness around us. People I've never seen before step out of the shadows, advancing toward us. Each of them is armed with various weapons—baseball bats, lead pipe, a machete. They all stare at us with hatred, as if we did something wrong to these strangers.

They don't hate us because of what we do.

They hate us because of what we are.

Not a single one of them could ever understand that there aren't any freaks in this world. There are only humans. Those of us who are willing to admit there's darkness and learn to live with it are stronger, and they don't like that.

Now, we stand before them in our masks, and I know they'll murder us if given the opportunity. We kill to protect and save, but they'll kill us out of jealousy and desperation.

Which of us are the real monsters?

Spade tenses at my side, but there's no other outward sign that my men are uncomfortable. They look around at the dozen men surrounding us, sizing them up. They have the numbers, but there's one thing they've forgotten in this trap.

We've accepted the darkness.

We are the darkness.

We are their nightmares.

Diamond grins. "It's a nice attempt, Roger," he says. "I'll give you that."

Roger scowls at Diamond's use of his name. "This is where you die, freak."

Diamond's grin widens. "No," he says, shaking his head. "But it could be where you do."

He moves without warning. Between one blink and the next, Diamond lunges toward the nearest stranger. He grabs the man before he can so much as raise his machete and snaps his neck with a resounding crack before the man drops to the floor, lifeless.

Everything is silent for a moment as Diamond meets Roger's widening eyes, and then all hell breaks loose.

Heart leaps to the right, a knife I never saw him pull in his hand. Diamond picks up the lost machete and starts hacking at those who surround him. Spade uncoils his whip and lashes out, wrapping it around an attacker's neck and yanking him over to his waiting blade. Club pulls out his own knife, but he stays beside me instead of leaping forward. I hoist my bat up, prepared to smash in any motherfucker's skull who gets too close. What I expect to be a quick fight is anything but. When one of the men rush forward, something flashes at his hip, something on his belt. When I swing and get slammed backward by his shoulders, I realize what it is—a police badge.

Roger brought fucking off duty cops with him.

"Motherfucker," I snarl as I swing my bat at the man. It connects with his forearm, and he shouts in pain. That explains why they aren't going down easily. They have fucking training.

Club strikes one of the men who tries to lunge toward me, slicing him across the chest. The man goes down with a howl, but we're making progress. All the while, Roger stands before us, illuminated by the moonlight streaming in through the damaged roof like he's a fucking angel. He probably chose that spot for that reason. He smirks as he watches with his hands in his pockets, unconcerned that once we dispose of his goons we'll come after him. This time, I won't show him mercy. I've learned my lesson.

Heart has one of the pipes now, and he swings it with insane strength while dancing out of the way of their weapons. He connects with one of the men's jaws, and the snap tells me he broke it. He giggles the entire time, as if this is the most fun he's had in years.

"Be careful where you dare to tread. The ground is littered with the dead. Ones insane and ones devout, I'll knock you all the fuck out," he sings as he swings the pipe, giggling every time he connects with one of them.

Spade's whip cracks behind me, and I can hear Diamond growl at someone, but their numbers are dwindling. We're winning. I meet Roger's eyes and bare my teeth.

"What do you look so smug about?" I hiss. "You're about to die."

Roger laughs. His eyes actually fucking crinkle. "Am I, wife?" he asks, tilting his head to the side. "Or am I just getting started?"

As if he fucking choreographed it, more men appear from the shadows—twice as many as before. They hold weapons—no guns, thankfully, but these people came here to inflict pain. Their choice of weapons reflects that. I see shovels, pickaxes, knives, pitchforks, and large wrenches, whatever they could get their hands on. Their eyes are on us, full of menace, and my heart drops.

"Club," I rasp softly.

"I see them," he answers, and for the first time, I hear a thread of worry in his voice.

Diamond glances over his shoulder, and his eyes narrow. I can tell he's assessing the situation, trying to figure out the best course of action, but I know what it is before he does.

We need to go.

Diamond realizes it right after I do. "Together," he commands, backing up to us while keeping the men at bay.

Spade does the same behind me, his back coming to meet my own as we regroup in the middle, our weapons held up. On my right, Heart is still dancing after the men, getting too close and enjoying himself despite the clear disadvantage we find ourselves in.

"Heart," Diamond hisses, pure command lacing his tone.

We're getting out of here one way and one way only—together.

"What were you saying, wife?" Roger goads, grinning at me. "How you're ready to come home?"

"I am home," I spit, "and it isn't with you, you limp-dick bastard."

Club reaches back and touches my hip in reassurance, and Roger's eyes follow the movement. Fire ignites in his gaze as he recognizes the familiarity between us.

Roger's face contorts with fury, and he finally pulls his hands from his pockets, taking a menacing step forward. "Did you spread your legs for this freak, Ember?" he snarls. "Did you roll around in the filth with him?"

I raise my chin, but I don't answer his question. Instead, I say, "I don't belong to you."

"Did you fuck him?" he shouts, taking another menacing step forward. "Did you spread your legs for this freak like a whore?"

Heart laughs at him and finally moves away from the men, joining our group. He hitches the pipe over his shoulder and flashes a cocky grin.

"Silly Roger." He laughs. "She fucks all of us! Our queen does as she wishes!"

Roger's face morphs into the monster he normally keeps inside. He stops moving and focuses on Heart, who laughs at his expression. The men around us stop and look to him for direction.

"Fucking freaks," Roger spits and reaches for the small of his back.

My heart stops.

I underestimated him yet again. There are no guns around us, but I never thought to look for them either, so when he pulls a handgun and points it at Heart, terror claws its way up my throat.

"Heart!" I cry, but Roger pulls the trigger before anyone can move.

The bang echoes around the room, ricocheting inside the concrete walls and making it seem even louder than it is. Heart stops dancing around, his laughter cutting off as he looks down at his stomach. Red blooms across his dark shirt, making it darker.

"Oh," he says, looking at it before peering up at Roger. "That wasn't very nice."

I scream and lunge toward Heart, trying to stop him from collapsing to the ground. Spade grabs his other side, helping me as Club and Diamond swing at the men to keep them back. We push toward the exit. Everyone shouts around us, and when the men come closer and try to get us, Spade lets go of Heart and snaps his whip out, leaving me to struggle to hold him up. His strength is obvious as he manages to remain on his feet despite the gunshot wound. His arm is tight around my shoulders as I drag him along.

"Hold on, Heart," I rasp, dragging him while the others watch our backs. "Hold on for me."

"I am. Death can't take me from you, Queen. Don't worry," he murmurs, but his voice is a little less lively than it usually is.

"Go!" Diamond snarls, swiping the machete across one of the men.

Roger points the gun at us without pulling the trigger. He grins when I look over my shoulder and blows me a kiss.

"This isn't over, Ember," he coos. "You can't run forever."

He's right,I think as we barely make it to the car. Once we're inside, the men beat against the Dodge, trying to bust out the windows, but Diamond throws it in gear and presses the gas pedal. We mow down a few of them on the way out, but I don't even pay attention.

My eyes are on the man with his head in my lap, my hand clamped over his wound.

"Hang on for me, Heart," I croak, tears welling in my eyes. "Don't you fucking die on me."

"I would . . . never," he whispers, closing his eyes, his body going limp.

"Heart!" I cry, trying to shake him awake. "Diamond! Go faster!"

The engine revs as Diamond pushes the Dodge as fast as it will go, but I don't know if it's enough.

Fuck! I don't know if it's enough!