Guy staggered from a crouch to a knee, and looked over his shoulder.
I heard the whoosh of crackling air and the fierce, thudding impact a second later.
Guy fell back into me as the second arrow took him in the chest.
“Brother!” I cried. Tears welled in my eyes.
Robert pulled a third arrow from his quiver.
He aimed.
My chin trembled, and all I could do was watch.
“He’s r-really . . . quite good at that,” Guy spit out through gritted teeth. “Oliver of Mickley, eh?”
With a snort, Guy stumbled into my body. I put a hand on his back to try and keep him upright, but he was growing so heavy.
The third arrow took him in the chest, not a blade’s length away from the other one. His breath came in spurts, ragged and choked.
I cradled the back of Guy’s head, our faces inches apart.
Blood trickled out the corner of his mouth, and the man had the audacity to wink at me. “It was an . . . enjoyable game . . . little mouse.”
“Damn you, Gisborne!” I wanted to pound on his chest, make him open up to me. Make him explain himself. If he died, I would never get the chance to learn his secrets.
Robert was sprinting over now, seeing that his target had fallen.
Guy lifted a weary, quivering hand, and wiped my tears from my cheeks. “Now, now . . . Robin of Loxley. That’s n-no way to . . . act. Be joyous.”
I sniffled and shook my head. “You saved me.”
“And you saved me.”
My brow furrowed.
He said, “Now give . . . me something . . . true. Let me steal from you.”
I worried he already had stolen something from me.
My heart? Is it possible? Could this—
Guy’s hand tangled into my hair and cupped the back of my skull before I could finish my thought. My eyes widened when he pushed himself up and slammed his lips over mine.
“Sister!” Robert called from twenty paces away, boots pounding on the grass.
The world stopped around me. My heartbeat slowed as Guy’s tongue slipped over mine. I could taste the blood in his mouth. Heat rushed over my skin.
Then he pulled back with a smile, his sinister eyes graying. “There. Now we’re . . . even.”
“Even?”
He squeezed my hand. His grip was so weak.
“You’re a thief of hearts . . . little mouse. A kiss in life . . . and a kiss of death.”
He closed his eyes, still smiling. Head slumped in my lap. I put a hand to his chest next to the arrows protruding from him and felt the heartbeats slow, slow—
And stop.