Ginny stared at me wide-eyed, locked in horror’s grip. The vision of her, the wind, and the rhythm of the clacking wheels carried me exactly to where I needed to be—the jungle.
“Let me go first, Tecci,” I said.
“What? Why?”
“I’m supposed to.”
“Hah!” he laughed, but I could tell he was intrigued.
“It’s meant to be this way.” My gaze burned into his.“This is history— the end of five hundred years of it. Leonardo . . . my parents . . . me. That’s the order. This is your poem and so far you’ve written it perfectly—like the N you carved in my neck. Finish it right. You can call it . . .‘Destiny Wept.’ ”
I could feel Ginny’s desperation, but kept my eyes on Tecci as the train rolled along the track, high above the waiting river and crushing rocks.
“You’re right, Ace. It is my poem. Up and over.”
I breathed a sigh of relief as I turned to Ginny.“I’m so sorry, Antonia.”
I leapt onto the gleaming brass railing and pushed off right for Tecci, launching a kick at his stunned face. Ginny ducked. Nolo blocked with the Dagger, slicing right through my boot into the arch of my foot. I grabbed his gun hand. He growled, thrusting the Dagger at me. I caught that wrist and twisted; the knife skittered across the floor.
Tecci head-butted me and squeezed off a round; somewhere behind me, Ginny screamed. Tugging his hand free of my grip, Tecci smashed me in the side of the face with the gun. I spun around and threw a back fist. His head smacked into the wall of the Pullman. Blood spurted.
I punched him in the face; the sound of teeth cracking punctuated his scream. Sagging to his knees, he dropped the gun. I kicked him with my bloody foot,banging his head off the car again. He slumped forward in a heap.
At the other end of the platform, Ginny was bent over, holding the side of her thigh, blood seeping from between her fingers. I ran to her. She fell into my arms, sobbing.
“I’ve got you,” I said softly into her hair. “You all right?”
She pulled away from me. “No, I’m not all right!” she shouted, punching me hard in the stomach.
I doubled over, thinking yes you are, Ginny Gianelli, yes you are. I felt her hand on my shoulder and straightened up.
“I save you and you hit me,” I groaned. “Why do you do that?”
She bit her lower lip in a way that made me forget my gut. I lovingly touched her cheek, and she tilted her head back as she had in Pop’s garden. Then her face went white as a cloud. “Reb!”
Tecci stood behind me, drenched in blood, raising the Medici Dagger to strike. I tugged out the mini and fired a burst. He jerked backward, pellets exploding. I fired again, emptying the clip.
I rushed to him, grabbing his throat, my thumb covering the head of his tattooed serpent. I wrenched the Dagger from his dangling hand and slipped it into my back pocket. Arching him over the railing, I plucked Ginny’s pig from his lapel.
The demon’s bloody lips quivered, red rivulets accentuating his hideous face. “Destiny wept,” he gasped.
“Not for you,” I said, and pushed him into hell.
I watched him rapidly diminish to an undistinguishable dot as relief quenched my adrenaline thirst.
And then Jack Heath stepped onto the platform, his gun leveled at me.
“Where is it?” he asked grimly.
I hesitated; he aimed at Ginny.
“No!” I shouted. “I’ll give you the goddamn Dagger!
Heath turned the pistol back on me.
“Young man, you are indeed valor itself,” he pronounced. A torturous-pause followed; then he said, “All right. Your lady fair lives.”
I presented the Dagger to him in my open palm.
When it was safely tucked in his suit pocket, Heath thumbed back the hammer.
“Wait!” Ginny pleaded tearfully. “Let me kiss him goodbye. Please.”
“Splendid idea,” Heath said. “Be my guest.”
Ginny took my hands, moved toward me.
“Ah, quite lovely,” Heath said.“Now I can put a single bullet through both your hearts.”
My soul sank through the earth, out the other side, and into the blackness of savage space. I had failed. Perfectly and completely. Ginny, my diamond, would shine no more.
I moved between her and Heath’s gun in a futile attempt to protect the girl I loved. I pulled her close, felt our thighs touch, her full breasts against me as we enfolded, aligning our pounding hearts. In Ginny’s almond eyes was a delicate and frightened invitation to forever.
Our lips met, warm and soft, gentle and sweet as summer, moist tongues entwining, stirring something wondrous inside me for the very first time—a breathless and blessed hello as we approached the piercing sound of
