Vivian
Pain seeped through every breath, crushing Vivian’s ribs. Heat crept over her. Her eyes refused to open. A voice in her head tempted her to let go. Give up the fight. Her betrayal left a black, gaping hole, swallowing light and time and the final piece of her soul that had once been good. This wasn’t how her life was supposed to end. She wasn’t supposed to die before achieving redemption.
The need to do the right thing was a storm in her belly, drawing her toward light and goodness, away from the evil she’d done to the people who’d trusted her with their lives. All three women were in this house because of her. All three were in jeopardy because of her.
Only in sacrifice could she make amends.
That was her prayer now, her reason to push past the self-pity that wanted to overwhelm her sense of right and wrong. It’s not over. Not while she still had breath in her lungs. You can still make things right.
She flinched at the wail of pain screaming through her head. No, not her pain. The cry came from another. Camille. Vivian cracked open an eye, slammed it shut, pulling away from the yellow rectangle of light. She tried again, surveying the scene. Von Bauer was hurting the young woman.
He would not win this fight.
Gritting her teeth, she rolled to her stomach, climbed to her hands and knees, set one foot on the cement, then the other. A tear dripped onto her hand. Not just one, but many. They seemed to spring from her eyes on their own, a sign of her rage. Vivian only ever cried when she was very, very angry.
Her head pounded. Her insides shook. On the outside, she was calm as death itself. She stood, faced the tunnel, and what was this? Rachel was there, looking glorious, an avenging angel ready to face a legion of demons.
Von Bauer’s lips lifted in an ugly grin. His eyes were as black as a raven’s wing as he lowered the gun from Camille’s head and pointed the weapon at Rachel.
No!
“Der Rab!” Vivian’s voice bounced off the wall, harsh and bitter, and the pistol veered in her direction. The tip angling straight for her heart. “You’re a coward,” she ground out. “Like all bullies.”
His eyes went wild with indignation, shock. “You’re supposed to be dead. I hit you hard enough to kill you.”
“And yet I stand before you now.”
He pounced. No hesitation. No warning. She was ready. With a hard swipe of her hand, she knocked the pistol to the ground. A bullet discharged on its way down, hitting the cement feet away from Vivian. Muttering curses in German, sprinkled with French, he reached for the weapon. At the same moment, she kicked him in the groin. The blow drove him to his knees.
She slid a frantic glance toward Camille. Go, she shouted in her head. Now. “Run!”
Vivian didn’t wait to see if the girl obeyed. Her eyes were locked on von Bauer. His face was twisted in pain. Breathing hard, he scrambled to his feet. She let him. They would finish this eye to eye.
“You made a gross error in judgment, der Rab.” Her voice was calm, baiting, the Ice Queen dripping in every syllable. “You threw parties for your Nazi friends and crowed about your work. You told tales about the thousands of Jews you sent to their death. All while you had two of them living right under your feet.”
He grabbed her, yanked her close, so close their noses pressed together. Her stomach churned in disgust. But her fear was gone, vanished with her dignity. She didn’t see a man leaning into her. She saw only the hard edges of a face gone mad with rage, his purpose clear. He would kill her. He would use his fists, or the pistol at his feet, or whatever weapon he could find.
He started with his fists. The blows came hard, painful, unrelenting.
Vivian fought back, but she was no match for his superior strength.
Even in her strange and suspended state, she felt the air leave her lungs, felt the breathy half sob crawl up her throat. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Camille and the other two finish their climb up the stairs. Only once they disappeared did Vivian breathe a sigh of relief.
Her momentary distraction foiled her. Von Bauer struck a hard blow to her chin. Her eyes rolled back in her head. Then: the sharp bite of the cement floor met her broken body. She kicked out and brought von Bauer down with her. The crack of his skull filled the air.
Relief refused to come. Monsters like him weren’t so easily defeated.
Vivian could smell the scent of whiskey and cigars wafting off him. Then he came to life, crawling over her, cloaking her with his hate. His hands snaked around her neck.
“You will take your last breath with me watching your life drip away.”
“You will join me in death,” she vowed. Her voice came out muffled, barely clear enough to hear, but von Bauer’s eyes narrowed. He’d understood her. Blood ran alongside his face, and the skin around his mouth had gone gray. The color of death.
She clawed at his wrists, moved her hands to his face, felt the satisfaction of connection, then the moment of freedom when his grip loosened and slipped away completely. His hand snaked out, reaching for the gun. Her hand was moving, too, of its own volition. Her fingers closed over the barrel. So did his.
They grappled for control. A shot rang out. A screech of agony lodged in her own belly. Pain lanced through her, slithered up to her chest, merging with her ragged breaths until she couldn’t tell where the agony began and where it ended. Her lungs constricted. The air was leaving her body. No air. No air. She couldn’t breathe. The pressure was too great.
She could feel her will to fight draining from her. Not yet. Not. Yet.
Von Bauer’s grip slipped, just enough, and Vivian had the pistol. She squeezed off another bullet. A third one.
He collapsed on top of her. She shoved him, hard, and he rolled onto his back. Eyes wide and unblinking, face blank.
It was done.
Blackness edged her vision. She shut her eyes, expecting to find Rupert waiting for her there. She saw nothing but the poisonous condition of her soul. Vivian dissolved to the ground and prayed she’d done enough to gain absolution.