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"Not happening." Fear grabbed Rick by the throat with more force than Vikas had.
“If you do not, we will both die, somewhat more permanently.” Dante’s voice was soft, nearly muffled by his face buried in his arm. He didn’t look up, but he sounded perfectly calm, perfectly resigned, as if he’d asked Rick to drive home because he was tired or something. “You can’t face Vikas on your own, and I am worthless this way.”
“Don’t you think I understand that?” Rick realized he was shouting and forced his words through tightly clenched teeth. “I can’t kill someone in cold blood, much less my own partner. There has to be another way.” He looked at the slowly growing dark patch on Dante’s back, not growing nearly fast enough to cause him to bleed out on his own.
Dante finally raised his head and looked at him with pain and fear. “I am open to suggestions, but we are running out of time before Vikas comes back.”
Rick stared down at the knife still in his hands, trying to think of any other solution that would not require him to murder his own partner, but now that the suggestion was made, all he could think about was the different ways he could use it to end Dante’s life most effectively. He dropped the knife with a clatter between them.
“If it makes you feel any better, Vikas left the knife knowing full well what you could do with it. He doesn’t want to do this, but his hands are tied. If we’re still here when he returns, he will have to complete the orders given to him.”
“It does not make me feel better, thank you very much.” Rick scowled at his partner. “Can’t you do it yourself? Surely the Church won’t hold it against you if you resurrect anyway.”
“No, it won't, and as much as I loathe it, I have done so in the past.” Dante nodded to his broken arm with a grimace of pain. “But I doubt I can do so efficiently with only a dagger and one hand. I cannot even roll over to free that one hand without your aid.”
“Do you realize what a terrible thing you’re asking me to do?” Tears began to burn in Rick's eyes.
“I do. You know that I do.” Dante shuddered under Rick’s hand. “I was in your position not too long ago. And I hope that at the resurrection, Wes can forgive me. But I will resurrect much sooner and you do not have to die today. I beg you, please, do not hesitate any longer.”
Rick knew Dante was right, and he hated him for it. Unreasoning anger welled up in the place of the fear. Anger at his partner for placing this responsibility on him, himself for what he was about to do, and – God forgive him – anger at God himself for leaving them no other option. God, why does it have to be this way?
Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. A familiar verse prodded his heart.
I don’t understand, Lord, and I certainly don’t like it. Rick gritted his teeth and screwed his eyes shut against the tears that burned his eyes. But I choose to trust You anyway.
“What do I need to do?” Rick couldn’t keep the anger and disgust from his voice, and he didn’t care. Nature itself rebelled against every detail of this plan.
“Help me roll over.” Dante’s apologetic voice took a hard edge of determination. The immortal knew what this was doing to him, but persisted anyway. Trusting God’s plan in this meant trusting his infuriating partner as well.
Rolling Dante over gently without coming in contact with his deadly bare hand was impossible, and Rick winced when Dante cried out in pain as his broken arm was jostled.
Rick sat back on his heels and listened with growing horror as Dante gave him clinically detailed instructions about the fastest and most reliable technique to slit his throat. He tucked his hands under his legs to hide how much they shook and clenched his teeth against the nausea roiling in his stomach.
Dante gave him a sympathetic frown. “You may find it easier if you cover my face.”
Ahh, nope. Rick glanced at the exit, knowing full well there was no way to get through the thick, locked wood door without Dante’s fire. Dante’s suggestion that he cover his partner’s face to give him distance from what he was doing made him nearly panicked enough to try anyway. He was trapped in his worst nightmare.
A noise in the hall snapped him back to reality. They were out of time and there was only one escape.
“If we both survive this, I’m calling in that steak dinner.” Rick made a grim attempt at a joke as he reached a shaking hand for the knife he’d dropped.
“If we both survive this, I’ll buy you the biggest steak dinner you have ever eaten.” Dante chuckled softly. “Godspeed.” He closed his eyes and relaxed, tilting his head up and away to expose his throat.
Rick almost threw up then, at the sight of his friend baring his neck to him in total trust. What kind of world required friends to kill each other? He swallowed hard, took the bloodied shirt he’d used as a bandage, unfolded it, and laid it across Dante’s face. He laid on hand on Dante’s shoulder and braced himself.
Dear God, forgive me. He pressed the blade exactly where Dante had instructed, squeezed his eyes closed, and followed through.
It was harder than it looked on TV, and Dante’s blood burned on his hands and bare chest – whether from guilt or the fire that brought him back to life Rick didn’t know. And he didn’t care. He leaned over and vomited until he couldn’t vomit any more, then crawled out of the resurrection radius, curled into a ball, and wept.
# # # # #
“DO YOU REALIZE WHAT a terrible thing you’re asking me to do?”
“I do. You know that I do.” Dante shuddered at the memory of having to take Wes’s life. Holy God, why have you not spared him this grief? “I was in your position not too long ago.And I hope that at the resurrection, Wes can forgive me. But I will resurrect much sooner and you do not have to die today. I beg you, please, do not hesitate any longer.”
Dante tried to think of a way he could take the burden from his partner, and if Rick still refused, he might have to. He was done arguing, surely Vikas couldn’t delay his return much longer. By all that was holy, he’d lean on the blade himself if it spared him the loss of Rick. He’d have done so already if he’d had any confidence in his success.
“What do I need to do?” The anger and disgust in Rick’s voice worried him a little, but if it meant they lived, Dante supposed he could accept his partner’s abhorrence. It would be a steep price, but one he could stomach if they walked away.
“Help me roll over.” Dante cried out in pain as his broken arm was jostled, but he didn’t dare brace it with his other while his hand was still bare. His own fire couldn’t kill him, but setting his suit on fire would make Rick’s task much more difficult.
Rick’s face went from pale to ash gray edged with green as Dante gave him explicit instructions about the fastest and most reliable technique. “You may find it easier if you cover my face.”
His partner almost backed out then, he saw it in the panicked way Rick flinched away from him. God, give him strength.
A noise in the hall snapped Rick back to reality with a start. The panic faded from his face and a muscle tightened in his jaw.
“If we both survive this, I’m calling in that steak dinner.” Rick reached a shaking hand for the knife he’d dropped.
“If we both survive this, I’ll buy you the biggest steak dinner you have ever eaten.” Dante chuckled softly. “Godspeed.” He squeezed his eyes closed, forced himself to relax, tilted his head up and away to expose his throat. Even though this had to be done, it was still going to be unpleasant. Even as an immortal who had died more times than he could count, his God-given conscience rebelled over just lying there and allowing someone to take his life. God be merciful to us both.
He felt the soft, blood dampened cloth cover his face, and clenched his free hand against the revulsion that shuddered through him. Rick needed him to remain calm, to not show his own fear and disgust. Rick’s trembling hand gripped his shoulder, and Dante calmed his ragged breathing to keep from projecting his own dread to his partner.
He caught his breath as the sharp edge of the blade pressed to his throat. A nagging voice of panic told him to fight, that he needed to live. The pain in his arm and lack of all feeling below that demanded otherwise. Their lives demanded otherwise.
Rick leaned against him and the blade bit deeper. Dante tensed against the searing pain, then relaxed as his lifeblood drained, and quickly passed out.
Dante woke again with a gasp. He looked around the conference room in confusion, struggling to remember how he died here, desperate to eliminate any threat to him and his partner.
Rick. His memory of his last few moments started to clarify and he scanned the room for his friend. There, curled in a corner by the wall sat Rick with his back to him.
“Rick?” Dante bent to pick up his gloves and pull them on. When his friend didn’t answer, fear tripped his heart. Surely he hadn’t been harmed in the resurrection blast. Vikas would soon claim his whole attention, but he needed to make sure Rick was all right first.
He crossed to his partner’s side, and crouched to lay a gloved hand on Rick’s bare back, which was blistered from burns and rose and fell in ragged breaths. “Rick, I–”
“If you say one word to me about what just happened, I swear the next two words out of my mouth will be ‘I quit,’” Rick snapped without turning around.
Unhurt then, at least physically. Dante sat back on his heels and nodded. He hesitated a moment and blew a slow breath through his nose. “I need to deal with Vikas. You get out of here and take the back up team to stop Finnegan and get Vikas’s ball.” He hated the idea of sending Rick into danger, but more lives were at stake than just his partner’s or his own. He’s proven himself a more than capable agent.
“Ha. Not a chance.” Rick barked a sharp laugh. “You’re the most helpless immortal I’ve ever met. You need me. What if you die again?”
“Well, I cannot destroy any more clothes. Not like this.” Dante gestured to his embarrassingly bare chest.
Rick snorted as he pushed up to standing. “It wasn’t good enough to burn up your own clothes, you had to go and burn my shirt too?” He grimaced as he dabbed the blood from his face and hands with a nearby curtain. “How bad is it?” Blistered burns covered his face, hands, and chest wherever Dante’s blood had touched at his resurrection.
Dante winced. “It will heal. I am sorry.”
“Don’t.” Rick raised a hand to stop him as the door opened to admit Vikas. “Just get us out of here and we’ll call it even.”
“I will get you out of here and occupy Vikas. Once you have his spirit ball, everyone will be out of danger, including me.” Dante lay a gentle hand on his partner’s shoulder. “I’m trusting you not to get yourself killed, please do not make me regret this.”
“Give me an opening.” Rick sighed his resignation. He slid over to the wall beside the door, waiting for Vikas to open it. “Just try not to let me find you floating in the fishtank when I get back.”
Dante nodded grimly, clenching his teeth to hold back the reminder that him floating in the aquarium was very far from the worst case scenario here. “God be with you, mon ami.”
The door swung open to reveal Vikas, fire in his own hand.
“Vikas!” Dante pulled free both his gloves and dropped them to the floor without taking his eyes off the kitsune. He needed to draw the fox shifter inside before he realized Rick was standing by the door. He lit a flame in his left hand while he gestured to their opponent. “I do not want to kill you, just as I know you do not truly want to kill us.”
“What I want is irrelevant, Dante. It’s only what I’ve been ordered that matters.” Vikas matched his pose. His gaze flicked to Rick and indecision crossed his face.
Mince. He needed Rick out of this room before fireballs started flying. “Were you ordered not to return Agent McCoy’s gun to him?”
The corner of Vikas’s mouth twitched. “I was not.” He pulled the pistol from his waistband, and handed it to him. “But I was ordered not to let him leave, so it will do him no good.”
“So we win by finding loopholes?” Rick whispered as he snatched his gun from the kitsune, darted out of his reach, and checked the magazine.
“It is the only way you win against a mythic. I thought everyone knew that.” Dante chuckled. So far Vikas hadn’t made an aggressive move toward his partner, but the moment Rick tried to leave that would change. He needed to make an unignorable distraction, and an alternate route of escape for Rick. Humans could survive a leap from a second-story window. He’d seen many of his partners walk off from one. He moved quickly to the window to his left and laid his hand on the frame, melting out the glass. “Your orders were to not let us escape, but you’re going to have to make a choice, Vikas. When you face Finnegan again, which of us do you want to report is free, and which do you want to report is dead?”
Rick gave him an uneasy look, as if uncertain if Dante was sending him away so he could sacrifice himself.
Vikas in turn gave Rick an uneasy look, as if still uncertain if he could kill the human agent before facing the immortal one.
Dante didn’t give him a chance to decide, he dove toward the kitsune in a high tackle, grabbing him and knocking him out of the door into the hall as his shirt burst into flames. Vikas retaliated by punching Dante twice in the nose. Neither of them could be harmed by fire, so they grappled with fists, knees, elbows, and feet as weapons instead. Vikas was an inferior fighter, but Dante wasn’t trying to win. He was only trying to keep the Mythic leader busy until Rick could retrieve his spirit ball. In the meantime, this would be the longest stalemate in his life.
Holy God, speed him on his way.