Worth Dying for (A Dying for a Living Novel Book 5) by Kory M. Shrum Read Free Book Online Page B

forward and shots ring out. A solid hit like a punch in the gut strikes me an inch below my left breast. The force of the bullet knocks me back and I cry out.
    My flames sputter out.
    “Gee- zus .” I lift my shirt to inspect the bullet wound. The men around me stand breathless, waiting.
    Before the pain even stops radiating through my guts, the wound begins to itch. Then an icy feeling slides over my skin as the wound puckers and spits a bullet out onto the pavement. The blood that spilled down my stomach, staining the top of my jeans a dark burgundy, stops flowing and the flesh stitches itself together in front of my eyes.
    “Fuck,” someone says, one of the men in the first row of defense. His jaw unhinges and the barrel of his gun dips. Three more shots ring out, catching my chest and shoulder, each bullet a little higher than the last. If they shoot me in the head—
    I wouldn’t let them finish you off. That pleasure will be all mine.
    My head snaps up at the sound of that serpentine voice, cruel and perfectly articulate despite the commotion on all sides. Only one person can pull off that trick.
    Caldwell stands to the right. Positioned between the men and the hotel building. Of course he’s issuing orders from the sidelines. With a gift like his, why dirty his own hands?
    You’ve been sloppy, Jesse. You won’t lose me again.
    I fire bomb the alley.
    The pain of being shot four freaking times paired with Caldwell’s taunts amplifies my anger. The blue flame pulses out from me in all directions. The first row of cars lifts off the ground, blown back like umbrellas caught in the wind. I see a lot of feet, the bottom of rubber shoes floating away. The crunch of metal and the shriek of brakes resounds from the adjacent street. Cars slam into one another as those blocking the alley collide with those passing through a stoplight. No sooner than the brakes stop squealing do the shouts begin.
    So ungrateful. Is that the thanks I get after saving your precious little life?
    Pretty sure they shot me on your command , I reply, using the same mind speak that Caldwell prefers.
    Yes, but not in the head.
    “Caldwell,” I shout. I don’t think Maisie and Ally can hear me. I can barely speak, my voice breathless against the pain crippling me.
    My heart sputters and my vision blackens, splotchy at the edges. I taste salt on my lips and copper, probably blood.
    Hands yank me up to my full height, shoving me against the wall.
    “Jess, no. Come on. Don’t pass out.” It’s Ally pleading with me. “Stay awake, baby. We can’t carry you.”
    Oh no. If she can touch me then I dropped the shield. No, no, no. I try to erect it again. Does it work? I can’t tell. My vision is spotting.
    “Caldwell,” I say again. Or at least I think I do. Ally gives no indication that she’s heard me.
    “It’s her heart,” Maisie says, and I feel trembling fingers gingerly poking at my chest. “She got shot in the heart. She’s dying.”
    The world comes into focus and a black van bursts through the flaming wreckage of my firebomb. The doors fly open and two or three people in tactical gear, guns held across their chests step out.
    No, no. I think, trying to summon my strength and focus. Ally—look—look behind you.
    Surely she can see the van. She’s smart enough to run. Leave me. Take Maisie and go . I hope I’m saying all of this aloud, but I fear my voice is being drowned out by the blaring sirens and thick smoke filling my nose and burning my eyes.
    Rough hands grab me and shove me into the van, my cheek scratching against the rough carpet of the floorboard.
    That’s the last thing I feel before my heart fails me.

Chapter 7
    Rachel
    T he first man places a hand on Gideon’s elbow and turns him around.
    “Hey!” Gideon speaks in perfect American English. His British accent drops away without a trace and he adopts a half dumb, half bewildered look. His posture slumps, his lips pouting out in petulance. “What the hell,