Page 54 of Unholy

He knew that voice. It was a paladin captain.They knew, and they weren’t going to bother banishing him.

Shock overrode even the blinding pain. He never expected this. Somehow, whenever he imagined what might happen to him if he and Malachi were discovered, he never imagined this. Banishment, condemnation, disgust, yes. Death? No. Killing a human was a mortal sin. It was unthinkable.

And yet…

His eyes found Malachi’s stricken face. He didn’t want that to be the last image he saw. He wanted to remember the smiling and happy Malachi from just a few moments ago.

Pain lanced through him again as the sword was wrenched free. His knees buckled, and he barely managed to catch himself with his hands so he didn’t concuss himself on the concrete floor.

Malachi screamed.

God, Malachi, Luke thought dizzily. They would kill him. He tried to open his eyes, but he couldn’t. Or maybe they were already open, and he just couldn’t focus. Was Malachi okay? Were they hurting him? He heard grunts and shouts, cries of pain.Please, God, don’t let him get hurt. He’s not evil. Please…

It couldn’t end like this. Not when they were so close to forever.

Chapter 19

Malachi

Malachi’s worldwent black the moment Luke fell. Some kind of sound tore from his throat, and then he was moving. Bone snapped under his hands, and he heard a scream that didn’t belong to him or Luke. Fear and panic and rage roared through his veins. A blade hit the ground at his feet with aclangagainst the concrete. He picked the human up by the throat and threw him, and he collided with another. A handful of paladins were crowding the door in the alley.

Oh, he wasn’t alone. Good. Malachi wasn’t done with them.

He picked up the sword and swung.

Blood splattered around the alley. Normally, he couldn’t have imagined taking on five paladins by himself, but all he could think about was Luke lying in a puddle of his own blood in the stairwell behind him. He had to end the threat, had to stop them before they hurt him again. He couldn’t afford to fall, or Luke would die.

So he fought. And they bled.

It probably only took moments, but it seemed like hoursbefore he was finally turning away from the viscera and dropping the sword to fall to his knees beside Luke, his hands slick with the enemy’s blood and trembling as he reached for the only thing in the world that mattered to him.

“Luke, baby, hold on,” he whimpered, pulling his phone out and calling the one number he thought might be able to help.

“What?” Talon asked waspishly.

“Please, please, bring Hawk here—to my apartment. Luke’s been attacked. I don’t know how to help him.” He leaned over Luke, cradling his head and shaking slightly, trying to get him to open his eyes. His eyelids fluttered, his whiskey-brown eyes rolling. “Luke. Luke, focus on me. Look at me.”

“Oh my God,” Alex said. “Attacked how? If he’s bleeding, put pressure on the wound to stifle it. We’re coming. Get up, getup, Tal.”

“He is, he’s bleeding bad. They stabbed him.” He pressed his palm to the wound, and Luke hissed, his eyes opening as his brow furrowed. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Talon and Alex appeared by his side. Alex dropped to his knees on Luke’s other side immediately, while Talon surveyed the area.

“Goddamn, Malachi, did you do this yourself? Impressive work,” Talon said, studying the bodies in the alley.

“They hurt him,” Malachi said absently. The bodies were the least of his concern. “How do I help him?” he asked Alex.

“Uh, I… I don’t know. It went all the way through, didn’t it?” Alex shifted Luke, slipping a hand under him to feel for the wound on his back.

“Yeah, it did. They stabbed him in the back,” Malachi growled.

“Give him your blood,” Talon said, like it should be obvious.

Malachi blinked up at him, uncomprehending. “What?”

“Your blood,” he repeated slowly.

He shook his head. “How would that help?”

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