To Robin’s horror, Reykon now turned to her.
His eyes were serious, his chest heaving slightly. He was covered in blood and had a determined look on his face that terrified her.
He took a step forward, and she raised the gun, squeezing it and wrapping her finger around the trigger.
“Don’t move!” she cried, her voice shaking.
Then, he changed into the Reykon she’d known. A wry smile tugged his lip up. “Gotta say, you’re not being the best travel partner.”
She adjusted her grip on the gun. “I’ll shoot you.”
To her surprise, he relaxed. “Not with the safety on.”
Robin scowled, and leaned over slightly, checking it. He was right. She cursed under her breath and flipped it up, so that red showed just under the switch.
Reykon shook his head. “Try again.”
“What?” she asked in confusion.
“If you pull a gun on someone, you have to make sure it’s ready to shoot. That’s the first rule.”
“It’s ready,” she said firmly.
“Is there one in the chamber?”
She glanced back to the gun, feeling like he was tricking her.
“Listen, the next time you threaten someone with a gun, you’ve gotta get it right. Lower it and try again.”
“I’m not going to lower it,” she said, setting her jaw.
Reykon relaxed his posture and folded his hands across each other. “I won’t move. Scouts’ honor.”
“You’re tricking me.”
“Am not.” His amusement was full force now. He seemed to not even notice the wolves, or the blood covering him. “We’re not leaving until you get it right.”
She lowered the gun hesitantly, and pulled the top back, bringing it back up and pointing it at him. “We’re not leaving at all.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Check the safety…”
She let out a frustrated breath and glanced, finding the small patch of red. “It’s live.”
“Okay, good,” he said. “Now, you should widen your feet, and stand diagonally, like this.” He took a step back, so that his right foot was slightly behind his left.
“Why?” she growled.
“Because, if you’re standing with your feet next to eachother, and your attacker advances,” he said, lunging towards her with alarming speed. “You get off balance.”
Robin stumbled back, losing her footing and then righting herself quickly. Reykon had moved five feet closer and was now only half a room away. She backed up so that she stood in the entry way.
“See? Bump that foot back a little,” he said, pointing to her leg.
Robin inched her right foot back and readjusted the gun, her face dead serious.
Reykon smiled. “Okay, now you’re ready.”
“Stop stalling. I’m not going with you,” she insisted.
Reykon narrowed his eyes. “Yes, you are.”
“I’ll shoot you,” she whispered. “I’ll do it.”
“I have no doubt. You’d be within your rights.”
His calm words triggered her anger, and she could feel him, messing with her head. “Don’t do that!” she snapped.
“What?”
“Don’t try to be reasonable, or nice, or considerate. You kidnapped me.”
“Yes, I kidnapped you, which is exactly why it’s within your rights to retaliate. If someone ripped me out of my home, I’d do anything I could to kill them.”
“Exactly,” she said, narrowing her eyes.
“Exactly.”
She stood her ground and set her jaw. “Don’t make me shoot you.”
His tone softened. “Robin, you’re getting in the car with me.”
“No!” she insisted.
“Yes.”
Robin stood, her heart racing, fighting to control her manic breathing.
He waited only a moment more before taking a small step forward. “It’s time to go.”
“I won’t let you take me to Magnus.” She mirrored his words, tone cutting and absolute, leaving no room for doubt.
Reykon advanced, moving quickly.
She squeezed the trigger. A bullet pinged out, nearly a whoosh of air because of the silence, and lodged right under Reykon’s collarbone. The impact threw his shoulder back but didn’t even knock him off balance. He continued forward, another step. She refocused the gun and shot him again, letting out an anguished cry as her finger sent a projectile ripping through him.
This bullet slowed him slightly, but he kept moving, now only two feet from her.
A final bullet lodged in his chest, and then he had reached her.
He slammed into Robin, sending her into the thick wooden wall. A crack sounded out and her vision cut out to black static, with strange shapes shooting across her mind. A blast of pain raced along her scalp, into her shoulders. She blinked and the cabin had returned, unfocused and jumbled, along with the face of her attacker.
The impact seemed to shock him as much as it had shocked her, and Reykon’s eyes widened in concern, afraid that he’d truly hurt her.
She took the opportunity to jam the pistol across his temple, with all of her strength.
Whether he was weakened from the bullets or shocked from the hunk of metal she’d dug into his temple, he staggered back, his hand jumping up to the place where she’d cracked him.
Robin was already stumbling towards the door. The whole world was spinning, and she could feel her pulse banging on the back of her head like someone trying to knock down a door.
“Robin!” he growled, his voice obscured in utter rage.
She’d never been so terrified by a noise in her life.
She managed to make it to the door and rip it open, falling into the open air. She wasn’t sure where she was going. She’d had a bag over her head the whole way to the cabin and had no idea where to run. She was propelled only by the need to put distance between her and her attacker.
When she looked up at the driveway, she saw a number of vehicles. Then, she saw something that confused her.
A goth woman, forced on her knees, her hands bound behind her. Two women (the strongbloods they’d encountered on the road?) stood above her, pressing a nightstick into her muscled torso, blue electricity racing into her and making her face a show of true, agonizing pain.
Robin couldn’t tell if the image was real or not, or make sense of it, so she stumbled forward, looking for her escape.
She ran face first into a wall of muscle and was
