Present me with facts contrary to what I believe and I will change my mind to fit the facts. But try to force me into doing what you want and I would rather die before bending to your will.
“I’m sorry, Modesty,” Kathan said. “I don’t believe I heard—”
I must’ve been thinking all that out loud. I swallowed the blood in my mouth and tried to speak up. “I said, ‘I would rather die.’”
Kathan’s chuckle was as dark as the inside of the lunatic’s cell.
“Unfortunately, that’s not one of your options.” He turned to the alphas who had followed him downstairs. “I imagine it’s been a long time since your troops have had a crack at a true Destroyer. Tell them to go nuts. We just need her breathing.”
He and Tempie started for the stairs. I had to bite my tongue so I wouldn’t beg them to come back. I was done begging. I was done crying. I might have been about to spend a lot more time screaming, but I would be damned if it was for their help.
Tough
Lonely had already boarded up the front window of the tattoo parlor by the time I got back. I slammed the door open. There were at least twice as many people crowded into the front room as there’d been when I left, most of them standing in little clusters around a crow or a coyote with a gun. I had to shove and elbow my way through to get to the back.
Just as I made it to the pull-down stairs, somebody grabbed my arm. The static in my brain dropped to a low whine and the sound faded back into the world.
“Tough?” Scout said. “Where have you been? You’re bleeding. What the…?”
I shook her off and took the steps two at a time. By the time I got to the top, Lonely and Clarion had joined the party.
I lifted one end of the TBG-7 crate until the roll of razor wire slid off and hit the floor. The crate’s lid was nailed shut. I dug at it for a second with my bare fingers, then started looking around for a pry bar or claw hammer.
Clarion was the first to stick his snout in it. “What’s going on?”
I ignored him. Grabbed a bayonet knife out of a box full of them, levered the blade into the crack, and put all my weight on the handle. The nails creaked. The lid gave about a quarter inch. I shifted the bayonet to a new spot deeper in the crack and threw my weight onto it again. The nails screamed and the lid popped off. I tossed it and the bayonet off to the side.
“Somebody’s got bleeding on the brain,” Lonely said, not bothering to come all the way up into the attic. “And I don’t mean medically. Who’s the target, tarnished one?”
They’re… Words wouldn’t come, just a shot of her face falling back toward me, tears dripping down into her ears. I scooped handfuls of packing straw out of the crate and threw them on the floor. They’re hurting her.
“The angels have his girlfriend,” Lonely explained for Clarion and Scout.
They don’t just have her. They’re torturing her. I pulled a TBG-7 out of the crate. Hefty. Good. I pointed it at Lonely. Now, where do you keep your launchers?
“No,” Lonely said.
No?
“You heard me, and you’re crowspawn, so I know you understood me.” Lonely flapped up into the attic and wheeled around Scout so he could land in front of me. He shifted back to human form and crossed his fat arms. “You’re not running off to have a showdown with Kathan. Not with my warheads, and not after everything we just went through to organize this uprising. You’ll lose the last battle before it even gets started.”
Oh, now you care?
“Lonely’s right,” Clarion said. “You can’t just run in there, guns blazing. They’ll put a stake through your heart, then go back to whatever they’re doing to your girlfriend.”
I’m not going to run in there. Me and my new best friend here are going to paint those basement walls with fallen angel.
“If they’re really torturing her, then they’re not going to kill her,” Lonely said. “You torture with a goal in mind, not to kill. They’ll keep her alive until they’ve achieved their goal.”
I guess in whatever reality crows were from, that was the kind of thing that passed for comforting. I snorted, but didn’t bother responding. I shoved around Lonely and went for an unlabeled crate. The lid was already loose on that one. I tore it off. No launchers, just disassembled bipods.
“Someone shot you,” Clarion said.
Can’t sneak anything past a coyote.
Lonely relayed that one, but Clare didn’t take offense.
“They saw you,” the coyote said. “That means they know that you know what they’re doing to her. They’re going to use her against you. They’ll try to draw you out.”
I waved the TBG-7 at Clarion. Hey, look. It’s working. Then I glared at Lonely. If I could get a fucking launcher.
“Tough.” Scout was looking at me like I’d slapped her or something. “She’s not even… She left you. What…” Scout must’ve realized then that she was talking out loud because she shook her head like she was trying to reset her brain. “Tough, that coward bitch chose Kathan. She picked the fallen angels over us—over you. She’s getting what she deserved.”
My teeth ground together. Some predatory vampire sense warned me that Lonely and Clarion were tensing up, probably getting ready in case they had to stop me from ripping Scout’s throat out.
“Regardless,” Clarion said. “We can’t just leave an innocent bystander—”
“She’s not an innocent bystander!” Scout stomped her foot like
