24. Dark Hunger （Micah）

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The Darkest Chase

Nicole Snow

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DARK HUNGER (MICAH)

" G rant," I whisper through clenched teeth, "let me fucking go."

Grant only grabs my arms harder, forcing them behind my back and restraining me with all his might.

"Not till you cool down," he whispers. "Charge in now, you'll just get her killed."

If I don't , she might get killed anyway.

And it'll be my goddamned fault.

All because I wasn't quick enough.

We took one hell of a risk, hightailing it out here in unmarked cars, breaking God only knows how many speed limits. Better to get pulled over and flash our badges than to have Xavier and the Jacobins catch a glimpse of flashers on their bumpers and blowing the whole operation.

I didn't have anyone to leave Rolf with, so I stuffed him in the back of Grant's truck and brought him along for the ride.

We couldn't afford another wasted minute.

There was barely time to park about half a mile away and make the rest of the trip on foot, leaving Rolf leashed to the truck while we assess the situation.

Pretty standard black market operation by the looks of it.

The silent loading and unloading, the dark, unmarked ship, the remote location.

The entire time, I've been scanning around for Talia. Until we knew we wouldn't endanger her with friendly fire, we couldn't move.

Grant and I took up positions behind several large freight containers, while Lucas and Henri split up to circle around to the other side.

We're outnumbered as hell, judging by the Jacobins and their associates swarming around like pissed off ants.

Who the fuck knows when Raleigh PD will show up.

When Xavier pulled Talia out of the trunk, I almost lost my shit and charged the gap between the shipping containers.

Only for Grant to rip me back, kicking and twisting and fighting me. Only to freeze as one of my boots hits the shipping container with a resounding boom .

Shit!

So much for keeping a cool head, but if that miserable fuck touches her, if he touches her at all —

Talia's scream splits the night.

A frigid, murderous rage lashes my blood.

I can taste death on the air.

I go stock-still, save for my clenched fists.

"Grant?" I snarl.

"Yeah?"

"You're going to want to let me go before I make you," I bite off, right before Xavier's voice carries over the dock.

"Come out, come out, little white wolf!"

Grant swears softly, his grip easing off.

"Don't think I have much choice," he mutters. "Think our cover's fucking blown."

Yeah, I'd agree.

The silent dock clatters alive with noise and activity—Jacobins, Bowden, people I don't recognize diving for their guns.

I catch a glimpse of carbines, shotguns, and pistols before I hunker down behind the freight container and sling out my M4.

"Look," I whisper. "They're sitting ducks, out there in plain sight. We've got cover. We can take them while they're confused."

"And Talia?" Grant peeks around the corner of the freight container, hefting his own weapon.

"Don't risk it." I shake my head. "Pick off the assholes around Xavier first. Don't engage him. She might take a stray bullet, and we wouldn't be able to get to her in time."

Grant nods tightly, pressing the headset clipped to his ear and muttering into it. "Boys, we're going sniper. Use the freight containers. Duck and dodge like hell. Never step in the same place twice. Go for the hostiles, avoid Xavier Arrendell and the hostage. Understood?"

Lucas' voice crackles in both our earpieces. "Suicide run, got it, Cap."

"Like hell I'm dyin' here!" Henri joins in. "I'm too good a shot for that. Let's fuck some shit up, my friends."

Grant just sighs, rolling his eyes. "Fucking children, acting like it's a video game. Move on my mark."

"If you don't show yourselves," Xavier calls out, "I'll kill her now! Right here in front of you."

Talia's pained cry follows, and my heart shatters again, each sliver furious and cutting.

I close my eyes, shaking, forcing myself to wait, wait.

Fuck, if I can't control myself, I'll just make it worse.

The three seconds until Grant snaps are the longest of my life.

"Now!" he roars.

Then he darts away and I'm free.

I charge in the opposite direction, glancing between freight containers. The Jacobins and their hired mercs fan out defensively.

Ephraim and Eustace hang back with Bowden, his service pistol clenched in both hands.

Xavier clutches Talia, holding her close by the throat.

His fingers dig at her skin, her face red yet defiant with anger, her blue eyes bright.

Of course, he's using her as a human shield.

That sick, cowardly piece of shit.

When I get my hands on him—

But my thoughts snap and I duck.

A shot pings off the corner of the freight container shielding me.

Shit, shit, shit .

More shots—coming from all directions this time.

I dive for cover behind another bulky container just as I notice several Jacobins going down howling.

My turn.

I hit the ground, roll, come up on one knee, and fire off three rounds.

Two hit targets before I'm moving again, weaving between containers.

It's like a nightmare maze, and our best bet is to bait them into it.

Fewer bodies shielding Xavier.

Fewer targets close to Talia.

Easier to isolate and pick them off.

I scuttle to another quick vantage point, aim, pick off one more, then duck and head in the opposite direction. I deliberately let myself be seen, slowing in the crevice between two containers, waiting, watching as several more peel off from the main group and give chase.

Before they can catch sight of me again, I double back, breathing hard, flattening myself against the back of another container. Right as three men go charging down the corridor of space I just abandoned.

I count out three seconds, then slip behind them.

Aim.

Fire.

One, two, three, blown down like leaves.

Xavier wants to call me a white wolf?

Little pig, little pig, let me in.

Again.

Again , and there's still no fucking end to it.

Screaming bullets piercing flesh, men crying out, the sharp ricochet of bullets flying off steel.

One thing I don't hear is Talia now, and every time I duck down, I risk exposing myself for another glimpse of her.

I need to know she's safe, dammit.

Xavier's backed himself up to Bowden, Eustace, and Ephraim, screaming something desperate, probably about a getaway plan.

There's still too fucking many of their men, and now the strategy to scatter them turns against us as we lose them in the containers.

My arms ache from the rifle's recoil. I slide into a dark crevice to catch my breath, tapping my earpiece.

"We good?" I gasp.

"Low on ammo," Grant barks back.

"Took a graze to the thigh, but still livin'," Henri replies a little too cheerfully.

Lucas is quiet, making me fear he's one of the bodies littering the docks, until he whispers, "…I have a clear shot at Xavier, but if he moves…"

" Don't ." Panic leaps in my chest. "We can't risk a hostage like that."

"What you mean," Lucas says gravely—no pun intended, "is your albino ass can't risk the woman you love."

"I'd say the same for any civilian," I snap and then sigh. "And yeah. I fucking love her, so let's try not to shoot her, okay?"

"What's the plan?" Henri asks.

"One option," Grant growls. "We Braveheart it."

I frown. "What? You think one last rush will catch them so off guard they think we're completely fucking insane?"

"I hope so," Grant says—followed by the sound of his M4 going off in a quick burst.

"If you get me killed with this shit," I say, "I will haunt your gigantic ass."

"Then don't die on me, DEA," Grant snorts. "Okay, on my mark. One… two… three !"

That's all I need.

I grip my M4 like it's keeping me alive and charge.

You can feel the air over the docks change.

Suddenly, we're no longer angry ghosts sniping from the shadows, but roaring madmen coming in from all sides, spilling down the throat of chaos.

With everyone scattered, there's no united front as Xavier's men fall back.

Easy targets.

But we've got our backs exposed, and there are still too damned many of them left.

The four of us link up, crowding in tight, until we're a phalanx cutting Xavier and Bowden and the Jacobin heads off from their men.

We make ourselves vulnerable to them.

It's not good.

Not at all when we're crunched together, firing like madmen, looking over our shoulders, taking more shots, picking off a few more.

There's something deathly cold in Bowden's eyes as he lifts his service pistol and—

Another sound splits the night.

Sirens?

Everyone freezes.

Us, the Jacobins, the mercenaries, Xavier, Chief Bowden.

I risk another glance at Talia.

Her blue eyes have never left me the whole time.

I can feel her telling me, Do what you need to do. We'll come out the other side, I know it.

Reinforcements then.

Finally.

Close—so close, we've got under a minute and they're already scattering in a mad run. Best of all, the ringleaders can't when we've got them boxed in, and now it's our advantage. Grant, Lucas, Henri, and I swing around to face Xavier, Bowden, and the Jacobins.

Grant takes aim.

"Four against four, and you've lost your minions," he grinds out. "One more minute and this place will be crawling with Raleigh police. You're done. Let the girl go."

"Like hell," Xavier spits and glances over his shoulder— fuck .

I see what he's planning.

He wants to make a break for the ship.

If he can get there using Talia as a hostage, he can vanish into the open sea.

An angry cry explodes through the chaos.

Not from Talia.

From Eustace Jacobin, just as Chief Bowden snags her arm and yanks her in close. A long bowie knife materializes in his hand, pressed to her throat.

He stares at me with his dead, soulless eyes.

The mask is truly off now.

For the first time, I see the old chief for the demon he is.

A darkness deeper than anything I ever fathomed.

"The problem," Bowden says almost merrily, "is that you boys need evidence for a case. Information. Testimonials. And since our darling Eustace here kept everything in her pretty little skull as insurance…" She's white-faced but stone-cold, refusing to show fear, her wizened face curled in pure disgust as Bowden taps the knife against her throat. "…slit her throat, and I ruin all your hard work. So if you want her alive, you'd best back the hell off."

"Where does that get you?" I demand. "Kill her with four cops as witnesses, and you'll still be arrested. You're not getting off that easy, Chief ."

He smiles, a sickly thing. "Maybe I just want to kill her, then I'll—oof!"

Fucking Eustace.

Not going down without a fight.

She rams her elbow into his ample gut.

"Hands off my fucking wife!" Ephraim swings his gun up toward Bowden.

Bowden tightens his grip on Eustace. It's a messy tangle and I swing the muzzle of my M4, trying to find a clean shot until—

Until Rolf strikes first.

I must not have tied his leash tight enough, because suddenly there's a furious bark.

He comes flying over the hill, just ahead of the Raleigh SWAT team swarming out of their boxy vehicles. He moves like a pup half his age, launching himself into Chief Bowden.

The dog's teeth clamp down viciously on Bowden's calf.

Bowden shrieks, flails—and drags the knife right across Eustace's throat.

Shit.

Everything happens at once.

Talia yells in terror.

Eustace collapses in a pool of blood.

Ephraim lets out a guttural howl and turns on us, swinging his shotgun, only for his scream to turn into a shout of pain as Grant lines up a shot and clips him hard in the thigh.

Down goes the grizzled old man.

Bowden shakes Rolf off with a sharp blow to the head, making my dog whimper in a way that spikes my rage as much as Talia's screams. Before I can move, Bowden flops back and disappears over the edge of the dock with a loud splash.

Xavier turns, dragging Talia, and bolts for the ship's loading ramp.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

I lunge forward, bracing my back foot, and take aim.

His shoulder.

He's got Talia clutched against one side, but the other shoulder's vulnerable.

If I get a clean shot, it'll go right through and pass over her.

I know it.

I know I can save her.

I wouldn't trust anyone else with this shot but myself.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Aim.

Fire!

The trigger jerks.

The recoil slams through me.

The bullet stabs the night.

It feels like time slows down, watching and hoping I didn't just kill the woman I love.

Not until I see it.

A red blossom against the back of Xavier's shirt.

He drops Talia and she tumbles away, bound and rolling, but unharmed.

Xavier falls forward slowly, struggling against the ground.

He still tries to lunge at Talia—and that's when the white-hot fury takes over, hurling me forward.

Not again.

He won't take anyone else from me ever again .

I drop my M4 and tackle him in a bloody heap away, sending us both skidding across the pavement, away from her.

On top of him, I'm snarling, pinning his ugly ass down by the throat.

My fist crashes into his face again and again.

"I'll kill you," I hiss. "I'll fucking kill you for what you've done!"

Even bleeding with a bullet embedded in his shoulder, even with his face pulped, he sneers, daring me to do it again, blood streaking his perfect white teeth.

"For what, you asshole? For messing with your whore?"

I nearly rip his throat out with my bare hands.

I swear to God, there's a murder of crows in the distance going wild with amusement. I think all that racket brings me back into myself as I rear back and stare at him.

He doesn't know.

That's the worst part.

He doesn't fucking know what he's done , what I've lost, who , and he doesn't care.

Finish him, Mikey, Jet whispers through the chaos. Put this asshole out of his misery and I'll never bother you again.

I swallow hard.

I hate the dumb blank look on Xavier's face more than anything.

He knows what it's like to lose his brothers just like I lost mine, and he doesn't care at all. Right now, I feel like I could be every bit the monster Xavier is if it helps Jet's ghost rest in peace.

Yet if I kill him now, he'll die without understanding why, and it won't mean shit.

I think I'll do it anyway.

The dark thing inside me uncoils, murderous and hot, desperate for the blood of the man who destroyed the only family I had.

I've craved this for too long.

I won't be denied a second longer, not while I hear those mad birds shrieking in my ear.

Gritting my teeth, I clamp my hands down on his throat and press hard.

"M-Micaaah…"

The crows go silent.

There's just Talia's voice. Weak, raspy, calling to me, but I don't want to listen.

"Mi…cah. Th-this isn't who you are… Stop …"

Doesn't she get it?

This is who I am!

It's the moment I've lived for, watching Xavier suffer the way he deserves, struggling under me, the satisfaction of watching his life drain away and his face turning purple, then blue. Yes .

"… Micah ."

Fuck.

I jerk my head up, looking at her, and my heart stops.

She's blue in the face, wheezing, on the verge of passing out. Her inhaler's nowhere in sight, her hands and feet bound so she couldn't reach it even if she had it.

Damn.

I have to make a choice.

The man I hate, or the woman I love.

Really, it's no choice at all.

I fling myself off Xavier and tumble over to Talia, slipping my arms under her and lifting her up.

"Talia? Talia—Shortcake—hold on for me. Breathe. Count. You remember how? Fucking breathe for me, woman!"

She looks up through wet eyes, her crimson hair spilling over me like she's bleeding out.

She smiles.

Her eyes close.

And then she stops breathing completely.

Anguish erupts out of me like a gunshot wound.

I frantically press my fingers to her pulse.

It's there, it's there, but weaker by the second.

I forget to breathe myself as I lay her down, as I rip the ropes off her, get her prone, then tilt her head back, pinch her nose, bend over her, and seal my mouth to those beautiful lips I don't deserve.

Breathe !

Forcing air into her lungs, pushing hard, pleading.

Please breathe. Please don't leave me.

Take my breath.

Take my heart.

Take my life.

Always and forever.

Deep breaths.

Check her pulse.

Keep her alive until—

She inhales sharply, coughing like a swimmer coming up from drowning.

Her eyes snap open with streaming tears, turning them into twin blue nights of shining stars.