Chapter 43

43

T hough every fibre of her being screamed in protest, Jinx found herself stepping forward. Her gaze locked on Mikhail's anguished face as she approached Z, her mind screaming a thousand apologies she couldn't yet voice.

“Kiss me,” he ordered, his tone dripping with malice.

Tears streamed down her cheeks as she pressed her lips to Z's cruel smirk, her heart shattering when she heard Mikhail's pained gasp. She pulled away, her lips burning with the betrayal.

“Mm-mm-mmm, delicious.” Z smacked his lips together. “I’m not surprised you’re so good at that. You’re used to taking orders in the bedroom, aren’t you?”

His words slashed at her like a whip, dredging up memories she had fought so hard to bury with the help of Mikhail’s new love. But instead of allowing the images to break her, she used them to fuel her rage at the man in front of her. She wasn’t worried about herself. She was not so easily shattered now. But she hated that his words would have surely hurt her mate.

“Why don’t you go ahead and turn around.”

It wasn’t a suggestion, and Jinx could only do as Z bid. For now. Patience, she warned herself, remembering Draven’s words about needing just one clear strike.

Meeting the eyes of her friends and family was painful. They ached for her, she knew. Shoring up all her courage, she looked at Mikhail. His eyes were dark with worry but also with an unspoken promise. He loved her. He was hers. Always. She did the only thing she could to communicate with him; she steadied her rapidly beating heart and hoped he understood what she was saying. Don’t worry. Everything is going to be okay.

Z’s hand landed on her shoulder. “Now, my puppet,” he drawled into her ear. “Kill your precious Mikhail.”

Jinx’s hand reached for the small dagger secured to her belt. She retrieved it slowly, holding it securely by the handle. She took one stumbling step forward before she spun, ramming the blade Sabre had given her all those years ago into the side of Z’s neck just below his ear. “Fucker!” she snarled.

Z screamed, rearing back automatically before thinking better of it. The blade pierced his skin up to the handle and was being held steady by Jinx. His eyes moved to hers. “How?” he rasped.

She had no idea how she was able to resist his mind-control whammy. When he’d first commanded everyone to stop, she felt ... nothing. No compulsion to obey, no foggy thoughts, nothing but her own free will. Somehow, she alone was unaffected by Z's mind control. So, thinking quickly, she stiffened and did her best to freeze, mimicking those around her. But inside, her mind raced as she tried to devise a plan. When the narcissistic prick ordered her to come closer and kiss him, she’d seen her chance. And now, here they were.

“I have no idea. And I don’t care. You shouldn’t either. You should be more worried about the blade through your carotid. All I need to do is remove it, and you’ll bleed out in seconds.” Jinx kept her hand stable as she relayed the information that they all knew. Z was already dead. “Release them.”

Z’s expression was filled with rage and hate as he glared at her. “Fuck you.”

Jinx ignored the crude retort. As far as comebacks went, it was decidedly weak. “I’m betting your hold over everyone will collapse the moment your heart stops beating. I’m not worried about that,” she admitted, watching a stream of blood escape around the blade. She lowered her voice. “You’re dead, Zagan. We both know it. I’m giving you a chance to do one good thing before your trip to Hell. Release them. Ask your brothers for forgiveness.”

Z’s eyes widened, and he chuckled darkly, forcing more blood to flow. “You want me to apologise? You’re crazier than me.”

She pushed the blade in a little further, hoping to plug the leaking artery for as long as she could. Mikhail and Brax deserved to speak with their brother one last time. Their real brother. Not the twisted demon Zagan had become.

“Come on, Z. Work with me here,” Jinx pleaded. “You weren’t born like this. And you don’t have to die like this. They still love you,” she whispered. “They hate you. But they still love you.”

Z’s jaw clenched, and his eyes moved past her. She held her breath when his eyes lost their coldness, taking on a sheen. “I like who I am,” he declared, his voice shaking.

“No, you don’t,” Jinx refuted gently. “Because there’s nothing to like. You hate yourself more than they do. But the part of you that grew up as a triplet, that grew up loving his big brothers, that part is still there. It has to be. Release them willingly and give them a chance to see that guy one last time.”

Her hand was beginning to shake. She didn’t know how much longer she could keep the blade in position, given he was so much taller than her. She held her breath when she saw him open his mouth. She was finishing the job if he said anything other than an apology or a release command. She would regret it for Mikhail and Brax’s sake. But she would do it.

“You’re all free to move. I release you,” Z said, his face paling and his body beginning to tremble.

Mikhail was by her side in an instant, and she leaned against his chest gratefully. He wrapped his arms around her, cocooning her in his strength. Brax and Sabre appeared to her right; her angelic friend looked like she wanted to pummel Z to dust, but she stayed by her partner’s side instead.

Z licked his dry lips, bloodshot eyes darting between the two demons. “Brothers, so nice of you to join us.”

“Damnit, Z. Look what you’ve done,” Brax growled. The pain in his voice lashed out like a live thing, making them all flinch.

“It’s a mess,” Z admitted. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and blood flowed steadily down his neck and chest. Time was running out.

“Messes can be cleaned,” Mikhail said gruffly, tightening his arms around Jinx.

Z’s lips quirked. “Not this one.” His eyes flicked to Jinx. “You’ll be an exceptional queen.” Then he looked to his brothers once more. “Don’t worry, I got this.”

Before any of them could react, Z wrenched himself backwards, forcing the dagger out. Bright red, arterial blood pumped wildly into the air with every beat of his heart. Jinx stared in shock at the drenched blade in her hand, dropping it when Mikhail pried it loose. He made no move to help his brother when Z collapsed to the ground mere seconds later. Nor did Brax.

Blood bubbled from Z’s lips as he tried desperately to form words. His voice came out as a wheezing rasp, each syllable a monumental effort. “S-save,” he sputtered, the words barely audible.

“There’s no saving you, brother,” Mikhail intoned, tightening his arms around Jinx.

Z somehow managed a laugh. The sound was wet and distressing. He clutched at his throat feebly, every laboured breath producing a horrible sucking sound as air escaped through the wound. “N-not m-me, idiot. S-S-Styx. I al-ways li-li-liked … that hound.”

“What?!” Brax shouted, spinning immediately. He gasped when he spotted Styx lying motionless a few metres away, Eric and Gage pressing desperately against the hellhound’s chest.

The four of them didn’t bother to spare Z a final glance as they raced to the fallen hellhound. They didn’t need to. Z was already dead.