Page 35 of Saint of the Shadows

Tobias bent over her. She placed her hands like a mask over his face, parting her fingers so his eyes peered through them. “Your eyes. They have brown flecks in them.”

He nuzzled into her palm. “Yeah. I told you. It’s my sectoral heterochromia. My eyes are blue and brown in spots.”

Tobias was never the Patron Saint.

And not only had she been a fool, but she had also dragged his feelings into it. She traced her thumb over the edge of his square jaw, tainted with graying stubble, and dropped her hands from his face.

Both sat with their heads bowed. The heart monitor beeped over and over again.

Any second now, one of them would talk.

Tobias sighed. “I’m going to grab some more coffee.” He headed out of the room but looked back from the doorway. “I’m your personal bodyguard.”

She closed her eyes and nodded. Tears clawed down her face. A part of her always knew Tobias wasn’t him. It’s why she sought the hero and not the man. She ached, a dull throb of betrayal. Her Patron Saint fought for her, saved her—except for this one time. The one time when she needed him most. She felt for her necklace, only finding her bare skin.

Footsteps thumped into the room. She opened her eyes to see an officer standing at the foot of her bed. He appeared half the size of Tobias. A bandagecovered one of his round cheeks. His wading-pool size eyes were bloodshot. She flinched as she recognized him. It was Chewed-face, John-Boy rather, from the night before.

“Came to finish the job, bitch.”

Marisol searched for a hole to escape in. Nothing. She had one resource left. “Tobias!”

As if she conjured him herself, Tobias appeared in the doorway. “Can I help you, officer?”

John-Boy stared at her, smiling and baring his crooked yellow teeth.

Tobias adjusted his untucked dress shirt, revealing the gun in his holster. “Officer? I’m talking to you!” His fingers twitched at his hip.

The giant, the second one from last night, crept up behind Tobias.

She screamed, “Look out!”

The giant wrapped a wire around Tobias’s neck and dragged him into the hallway.

As John-Boy lurched, she grabbed the vase of flowers and threw it at him. He reeled, howling and holding his face. The vase welted his unblemished cheek. She scrambled to unhook her cast out of the sling.

Through gritted teeth, he said, “I was told to make it look like an accident. Now? I’m really going to make it hurt.”

Marisol fell out of her bed; a blinding pain shot from her broken leg. She writhed among the mess of flowers and water. The tangle of tubes pulled ather hand. She ripped them away and smoothed her thumb over the medical tape. The flatlining monitor wailed while Marisol crawled to the corner.

Crash! Bits of glass scattered on the floor. The Patron Saint flew into the room through the window, swinging by a cable.

John-Boy froze. “What the—”

The Patron Saint landed on his feet and stood between Marisol and John-Boy. He swung bolas above his head, cast them, and wrapped them around John-Boy’s ankles. As he struggled against his bindings, John-Boy fell to the ground with an oof. As he wriggled on the floor, the Patron Saint attached his cable to John-Boy and shoved him out the window. The cable pulled taut as he dangled outside, screaming.

Gunfire echoed down the hallway. The monsters were still coming for her. The Patron Saint picked Marisol off the floor. She gripped her arms around his neck as thundering footsteps pounded closer to the door. Please be Tobias. Please…

A wheezing mass stumbled and held itself up in the doorframe. Tobias Quinlan. Thank God.

The Patron Saint carried her to the doorway. “I must get her out of here.”

“Move fast... backup will... be here at... any moment. Can’t trust… my own,” Tobias ordered.

“You two know each other?” she strained her eye muscles, looking from Tobias to the Patron Saint.

Tobias rubbed his throat. “Acquaintances.”

A howl came from the direction outside. The Patron Saint turned his head, eyes glowing. “You’ll have to fish the little fake policeman out the window.”

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