Page 86 of Phoenix's Last Heist
In that split second, everything inside me snaps. Rage, disgust, sheer, unfettered loathing that this creature threatens mymate.
I will bleed you dry.
I twist, using the momentum of his shift, and flip him over my back. The gun fires wild, scorching the ceiling, and we crash to the floor.
My fists find the bony ridges of his face again and again. Wisps of memories swirl in my mind—being in this state before, during the grief of my parents’ death. Too rough, too brutal with the smugglers I caught, who I felt were dishonoring their memory. This dark rage is familiar—it sings to me in time with the pounding mating instinct.
Kraxis claws at me, but I pin his arms. I see Lyra grab the plasma rifle and aim, but I shake my head.
He snarls something about her not being worth the trouble she causes. Truthfully, I barely hear him through the ringing in my ears. I let the words fill me with cold, righteous fury.
Then I break his nose. Crack a rib. He gasps, still reaching. His tail flies out from behind him, curling toward Lyra, who’s standing to the side with the pistol aimed at his head.
With a final surge of possessive, protective instincts, I grab his jaw and snap his neck clean to the side.
Silence. Heavy, echoing silence. When the red at the edges of my vision clears, nausea roils through my insides, making me want to retch.
For a moment, all I hear is our breathing—hers ragged, mine slow and thick with adrenaline. Lyra lowers the weapon. She looks at me, eyes wide and glassy.
“He’s dead. I can’t believe he’s dead. He’s dead and you killed him,” she says, shock beginning to creep into her voice. “I can’t believe you killed him. After everything he put me through—after everything he did.”
“I’m so sorry, Lyra,” I say, sick with the reality of the violence but satisfied that I helped remove a threat from her life. “For everything he put you through.”
She’s staring down at his body, but then lifts her gaze to mine, as if she’s seeing me in a new light.
“Did…did you want to do it?” I ask, suddenly uncertain. With everything that’s happened, maybe she wanted to be the one to kill him.
“No,” she murmurs. “I didn’t. I just…I can’t believe he’s dead.”
I wipe the blood off my face with the back of my hand and step toward her. "You softened him up. I just finished the job. I was tired of that bastard sticking his damned plasma pistol in my face.”
She opens her mouth, probably to say something smart, but I grab her and pull her into me.
“Besides, he threatened you,” I finish, trying to shake her out of her stunned state. We don’t have much time as it is, and killing Kraxis is most definitely going to move our timetable up.
Lyra sucks in a breath, blinking down at the unmoving body of another one of her tormenters.
“We should move,” I say. “We’ve got to meet Vega at the extraction point and get the hell off this stars-damned planet. Do you know how to get upstairs without being seen?”
She nods, stumbling a little. She seems like she’s about to go into shock, and I need to do something to get her to focus.
“Close your eyes,” I murmur. She doesn’t argue, just does as I ask—a sure sign she’s not in her right mind. I lug Kraxis’s body over to our previously vacated closet, shoving him in and covering him with a tarp. I mutter a small Xylothian prayer for the dead, hoping that when he meets the Death Goddess, he’ll be judged for every hurt he inflicted on Lyra.
When I return to Lyra, she blinks blearily at me.
“Thank you,” she says softly.
I arch my brow. “It’s time for us to get out of here. Are you okay to keep moving, or do I need to carry you? I’m happy to throw you over my shoulder, but I can’t promise I won’t cop a feel. Might even try to sink my teeth into that nice ass of yours.”
The lascivious threat has the intended effect, unfreezing her and eliciting a soft, pink blush that spreads up her neck.
“Promises, promises,” she says. “Just try to keep up, Ranger.”
We dip into a nearby hover-vator that ascends quickly, and we get off just beneath the main floor. Above the maintenance floors, the halls gleam in a warm, yellow polished stone and tiled floors with intricate mosaics speak of a cold elegance. We’re able to duck most of the guests and guards since the chaos we’vesewn has been localized to the deepest parts of the compound. Still, the blackout continues to roll through these areas, as well.
Soft overhead lights flicker in their housings, casting strange shadows along the corridor walls. The recycled air has a dry, electronic taint to it and it makes me miss the lush forests of my home world with a powerful ache. I follow close behind Lyra, who’s moving with more confidence now—her steps still shaky, but sure. I know the moment the adrenaline wears off, she’ll crash. But for now, she’s back in control, and I trust her instincts more than my own.
We wind up at the bottom of a polished staircase, and from the look in Lyra’s eyes, I immediately get the sense that Brill’s rooms are at the top. She hesitates—apparently unsure if she’s ready to climb these steps and end it all now, or if getting to Vega and getting out of here is her priority. I nod when her gaze cuts to me, trying to assure her wordlessly that whatever she decides, I’m with her all the way.
