Page 181 of Burn Like An Angel

“People like you are the reason evil exists.” I boot him in the stomach as hard as I can. “You enable it. Profit from it. Fucking create it. All from the sidelines.”

A strangled howl is his only defence.

“I could kill you, but when the dust settles, the world will forget. You’ll be wiped away. And I need everyone to remember what happens to snakes who profit from others’ pain.”

Curled up like a despicable worm, it’s hard to imagine how this man spent a year taunting me. Forcing me to push product and hurt everyone around me. Ferrying innocent lives down to Craven and Harrison to meet their inevitable end.

He’s a failure now.

The final pawn to fall.

Falling to my knees, the rush of extreme exhaustion almost drags me under. My adrenaline is waning fast. I have just enough energy to crawl back over to my uncle’s body, lying deathly still in a puddle of blood.

His eyes are frozen open, pupils expanded to cavernous pits. Mouth slack. Tongue lolling. Throat gaping open. I reach over to slide his eyes closed, forever silencing his evil.

Footfalls clang against the jet’s steps, indicating multiple arrivals. But my muscles can’t hold out any longer. I lower my head to Jonathan’s shirt-clad chest, forehead resting above his still heart.

That’s how Sabre finds me.

Bloodied and limp.

“I’m sure I’ll meet you in hell someday, Uncle Jonathan,” I whisper into his chest as my strength wanes. “Hold the gates open for me.”

CHAPTER 28

LENNOX

S P E Y S I D E – BON IVER

The inscribedmilitary dog tags weigh heavy in my hands, tossed from palm to palm. Back and forth. Over and over. The nervous tic mirrors my rapid heartbeat. I need something to focus on while we wait.

Sitting opposite me in a shitty hospital chair, Raine fiddles with the Velcro brace that encases his wrist. He’s lucky to have escaped the wreck with minor injuries, mostly cuts and deep-purple bruises.

We were partially shielded in the back, leaving the front seats to take the worst of the impact. By the time I roused after being knocked unconscious, Xander was unresponsive. Warner screaming in pain. Raine yelling for help.

And Ripley… was gone.

All I felt was pure fucking terror.

The same terror that sunk into me and set up shop the day I found my sister’s corpse. Blue and lifeless. I was too late to save her. Trapped in the back of that SUV, I couldn’t save my family from this either.

The terror didn’t abate even when we were cut from the twisted, smoking wreckage and blue-lighted to the nearesthospital. Nor did it ease when a still-unconscious Xander was rushed away to receive a CT scan.

“I hate this,” Raine grouses, snapping the Velcro strap back into place. “We should be in there.”

“We’re not family, Raine.”

“Bullshit! We are!”

As much as I agree with him, my last conversation with the medical team resulted in them offering to call the police to have me thrown out on the street. Apparently, violent threats aren’t acceptable in hospitals.

Who knew?

We both fidget and stew until the sour-faced ward manager, Doctor Kilton, eventually makes a reappearance. He’s a miserable fucker, far too old to still be working the midnight shift in a chaotic place like this.

My bones protest as I tap Raine’s shoulder then rush to stand, tucking the dog tags into my pocket. Countless scratches, sore scrapes and bruises make my movements stiff. Raine stretches out the cheap blue stick the hospital lent him.

“Well?” I demand.

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