Page 127 of Xerxes Ascendant
It was a question that never needed to be asked. For it was Robby whom Kyle dived at, tugging her startled and still half-blinded form down to the floor and protecting it with his own to shield her from any stray bullets.
Stars protect them both. Akira was already in the doorway to the kitchen, bringing the loaded gun to bear and unsurprised to find himself looking down the barrel of Theta’s weapon in turn.
His ex-Master wasn’t stupid enough to blindly flee. Akira would have caught up to him and put a bullet in the back of his head for what he’d done.
No, the man was backing away slowly, keeping his gun trained on Akira as he retreated across the kitchen. Both of their chests heaved with adrenaline, but their arms – and aims – were steady.
“Are you going to kill me, Akira?” Theta asked in a soft voice, silver strands of hair falling to frame his elegant face.
He answered truthfully. “Yes.”
At this range it would be mutually assured destruction. Akira would die, but at least with his final breath he would take the traitorous prick with him. Kyle and his family would be safe, and safe was all that mattered.
Even if his heart yearned for more.
“Then I suppose this is goodbye, darling,” said Theta.
A figure loomed behind the older Master, teeth gritted in pain as she fought to stay silent through the agony of forcing atrophied muscles to bear her weight. Ever the formidable angel who watched over Akira, Sarah swung a meat tenderiser at the back of Theta’s head.
“Don’t fucking touch my family,” she rasped before her body folded in two and she collapsed to the floor like a puppet whose strings had been severed. The solid metal tenderiser clattered loudly down upon the tiles beside her.
Theta staggered forward, his hand coming up to clutch at his head. He looked more irritated than hurt – Sarah may have given it everything she had but she did not have much strength left to her – yet the distraction had been all Akira needed. He fired.
He was close enough to have easily put a bullet in his ex-Master’s knee or arm instead. Something to wound and disarm him, allowing the man to live and be dragged off to prison to face the consequences of his actions, but Akira didn’t hesitate.
He shot him in the fucking head.
Theta’s corpse hit the floor with a heavy thud amid lingering echoes of the gunshot. Sarah grimaced at it through mostly closed eyes from where she lay a few feet away.
“Kira,” she whispered. “Robby?”
Anxious footsteps hit the kitchen tiles.
“Oh my stars,” his daughter gasped, horrified.
Akira spun, reactively stepping between Robby and the dead body and reaching out to cover her eyes.
She tugged his hand back down, staring not at Theta but up at him. “Dad?”
“I’m here,” he promised, and folded his little girl into a tight hug. Relief made him tremble and begin to cry, because stars fucking take him, that had been too close. She’d almostdied. “Robby, I’m so very sorry.”
Gently drifting his hand along the length of Akira’s arm in a silent, unobtrusive gesture of comfort, Kyle moved past and swept Sarah up into his arms. She whimpered softly, burying her head into his neck to hide her pain, and the sight of them...of Kyle sharing the burden of caring for Akira’s family? Of standing shoulder to shoulder with him, protecting them as partners?
It was perfect.
Save for all the fucking blood. He was covered in it, Akira realised, the enclosed space and the closeness with which he’d executed Theta drowning him and Sarah in what was left of the man. He extricated himself from his daughter, inwardly cursing how he’d transformed that horrific crimson mess to her arms and face.
“Dad?” she asked again, wide brown eyes blinking owlishly up at him.
“Akira,” Kyle echoed. Not a question, only a reassurance that he was here and whole andalive.
The four of them exchanged the inevitable words that arose after such an ordeal. Theare you alright?s tossed between them every which way, and too manyI’m fines to be believed, although Akira planned to look over each of his precious people later to verify it for himself. Then the more curious questions arose from Robby:whyandI don’t understand, and Akira couldn’t answer. Not yet. Not while he still felt so...raw.
“Come,” Kyle murmured to the two women. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” He turned without waiting for a response, carefully carrying Sarah to her room and leading Robby after them.
Akira’s heart sang with gratitude. Kyle always knew what he needed without him asking or sometimes even knowing himself, and right now it was not making his wife and daughter watch as he got on with cleaning up his own mess.
He dropped to his knees. Rolled up his shirtsleeves and began retrieving lumps of grey and red brain matter from the corners and crevices in which they’d been splattered, trusting his mind to automatically cut off the emotion so that he could apply himself to the gruesome task in a professional, detached manner.
