Fallen by Susan Kaye Quinn Read Free Book Online

Valac’s face. I don’t want it smashed against mine, but more importantly I need skin contact before he starts to drain me. In the background, there’s a blur of motion and a high-pitched squeal. They’ve grabbed Ophelia.
    My fingers grip skin at Valac’s temples, and I suck life energy from him with everything I’ve got. He pulls back from mashing his face into mine, and my hands start to slide. I dig in with my fingers to keep hold. Only then do I realize that he isn’t draining the life out of me; he’s pumping energy into me. My eyes go wide. My hands and cheeks burn as energy floods in. The high rushes my brain, and surprise muddles it. Valac leans into me again, his hands still gripping my cheeks, mine still grasping his face.
    “I’m supposed to be killing you.” I can barely hear him over the noise from the bar. “So try to look like you’re dying.”
    I don’t have to fake the shocked look on my face. My heart pounds like a wild, delirious animal caged in my chest.
    “Kolek was never going to let you live, little bird,” Valac whispers against my cheek, loud enough for me to hear, but the club sounds mask his words from Nico and Larry. “You’re supposed to die here, just one more junkie found dead in the back of a skeet den.”
    I want to say something. Ask what the hell he’s doing. Ask why he’s not killing me. But I’m frozen in my need to carry off this ruse.
    “Go be free, little bird.” His words brush my face. “Go live a life worth living. I’m going to let go of you now. And when I do… you have to die. Make it look good.”
    My breathing finally catches up to my manic heart. My mind can’t grasp it, but Valac has a plan, and my gut tells me to go all in. I try to hold perfectly still, readying myself to drop like a corpse to the floor, but a muffled grunt draws my gaze past Valac’s face looming next to mine.
    I see it in slow motion: Ophelia’s head throws back into Nico’s face; he slowly crumples as she makes skin contact and his legs fail under him; Larry’s hand grips her shoulder and rips her away from Nico; Larry’s gun appears from nowhere and presses deep into Ophelia’s stomach.
    It fires.
    The sound cracks my ears. “Nooo!” The word rips from my throat.
    Ophelia’s eyes fly wide. Valac drops his hands from my face and twists to look. I tear away from him and fling myself toward her, but Valac yanks me back, pulling me off balance. I go down and sprawl on the floor. Ophelia sinks to her knees and grips her stomach. Confusion clouds her face.
    I scramble, but my feet can’t seem to get traction.
    Valac flings his arms wide and rushes at Larry. He turns, gun forward, just in time for Valac to crash into him. Valac’s hands find Larry’s throat, but he’s not fast enough. Or the death seizure causes Larry’s trigger finger to jerk. A body-muffled gunshot rips through the air of the room again. Valac and Larry go down together, a thump that travels through my chest.
    They lie still.
    I half lunge, half crawl across the room.
    Four bodies. Motionless on the floor.
    Then Nico moves. I don’t see the gun until after I react, my hand on his forehead, slamming it down. His head pushes against Ophelia’s body, and I pull the life out of him in a massive surge that brands my hand. A guttural scream crawls out of my mouth. Nico goes limp. Ophelia’s crooked legs twitch, and my heart leaps.
    I reach my other hand to her, making skin contact and cycling the energy I’m pulling from Nico into her, hoping, praying. Something warms my knee on the floor, and when I look down, I see blood running away from her body.
    I sob and reach for the damp hole in her stomach, pressing my hand against it, pumping life energy in, and willing the hole to disappear. To stop bleeding. To heal miraculously because it has to; because I need it to; because I can’t let this happen.
    But the hole doesn’t change. Ophelia’s blood just leaks slowly around my fingers.
    I can’t breathe.