Eight days after Trey's death, Griz walked into the clinic, his arm wrapped in a bloody bandage. When I looked up and saw his face, my stomach flipped with a brief nauseating mix of surprise, hope, desperation, and guilt. But his expression didn't change, staying blank and flat, and my emotions died as quickly as they'd come. Vulture didn't move to stop him, so Mac's crew must not have been forbidden from seeing me. They hadn't come on purpose.
I moved forward, the chain around my ankle clanking along behind me. I still sported a dark purple black eye, but the swelling had gone down enough for me to open it. More bruises ranging from purple to green in color were littered across my face and the rest of my body. I knew I looked rough since most people who walked in gasped out loud at the sight of me. I braced for Griz’s reaction, but he just walked straight up to me and held his bandaged arm out without a word. I focused on that to avoid meeting his gaze. I reached for the bandage so I could unwrap it and see the wound, but his good hand snaked out and caught my wrist.
“Wait,” he said, low.
I looked up at him, taken aback. His eyebrows creased and his eyes gleamed with pain, making worry burst in my head like a flare. I tried to reach for the bandage again, but his fingers tightened on my wrist, halting me for the second time.
“Bones, wait,” he growled.
I gave up and tried to pull my arm back, but he didn’t let go of my wrist. My gaze shot back to his face, a familiar fear tightening in my gut. Griz shifted sideways so that his bulky body blocked Vulture’s view.
“It’s ok, Bones,” he breathed as his thumb stroked my arm, “just hold on a sec.”
Gunshots erupted outside, and screams filled the air. I jumped with a gasp, but Griz just spun, shoving me behind him and putting three bullets in Vulture before I even realized he had a gun in his hand. He turned and trained his gun up at the loft.
“Anyone up there?” he asked. “Bones, is anyone up there?” he repeated sharply when I didn’t answer.
“No,” I finally managed to answer from where I stood frozen, staring at Vulture sliding to the floor and leaving a large bloody streak on the wall behind him.
He stared back at me, gasping wetly. “Angel, he got…I’m not…please…” he choked out, his face lined in panic and pain.
If I ran forward, I could heal him and save his life, but for the second time, I just stood there staring at him as he bled out. Griz locked the door and then shoved the exam chair in front of it, propping it to make it harder to enter. Vulture's choked pleas trailed off. His blue eyes locked on me, swirling with a multitude of emotions. Griz finished blockading the door and moved back to where I stood. He knocked the metal exam table onto its side and got behind it, looking up at me.
“Bones, c’mere,” he snapped.
Outside the screams and gunshots grew louder. I glanced at my mattress and strongly considered just lying down again. Griz swore and leapt up, grabbing my arm and yanking me down behind the table.
“I need you to focus. This is it. We’re gonna stop Madame for good.”
That should have made me feel something, but it didn’t. “Are you actually hurt?” I rasped out, still eying the bandage.
“Nope,” he said, eyes scanning my injured face. A muscle in his jaw flexed several times. “Just needed an excuse to get in here. Are you ok?”
I just stared at him, unable to muster the energy to tell him that was a stupid fucking question. Pain flashed across his face, but before he could say anything else, someone started trying to break the door down.
Griz shoved me down and I tried to make myself as small as possible as he got up on his knees to aim over the table, waiting. Pieces of the door went flying over the table as they slammed into it. Griz fired off a shot and someone let out a strangled scream. Then bullets slammed into the table and the wall over our heads. The next few moments passed by in a blur of Griz popping up to fire shots and ducking down as bullets whistled around us. Judging by how often screams followed his shots, Griz was a pretty damn good marksman. Finally there seemed to be a pause and Griz dropped back down, breathing heavily, and flipped up his jacket. Underneath he had an insane amount of ammo strapped to his chest. I must have made some sort of noise because he peered at me as he reloaded.
“You didn’t get hit, did you?” he asked.
I shook my head. He started to say something else, but then bullets peppered the wall behind us again. As soon as they stopped, Griz leapt up and returned fire. Outside I could hear gunshots and screams from what sounded like every direction now. This wasn't just a "little rebellion" as Madame had called it. This was an all-out war.
“Gods, they better hurry the fuck up before the clinic falls apart,” Griz said the next time he dropped down to reload.
I eyed the wall behind us, noting the many holes and splintered wood. A tiny part of me flickered painfully to life at the sight of the clinic being torn apart, but then it died.
“Don’t worry,” Griz said with forced lightness, “we’ll fix it.”
The floor creaked and Griz twisted to peer over the table. I jumped as he leapt to his feet and fired off a round of shots at the two men who had crept through the broken door. His body jerked, blood spraying, as bullets went through the right side of his abdomen and upper thigh, but he only took a single step backward, continuing to fire. I heard bodies thud to the floor, and Griz dropped back down, pressing a hand to his bloody side with a grimace.
“Don’t suppose—” he gasped out.
I was already scrambling over to him in a panic, pressing my shaking hands to his side, and trying to heal him as quickly as possible. Trey’s bloody face and empty eyes kept flashing through my head. Griz covered my hands with one of his large ones and squeezed.
“It’s alright, Bones,” he said, his voice so gentle it made my eyes burn. “You got this. I’m gonna be fine.”
Someone yelled outside, and then bullets slammed into the other side of the clinic. I flinched, trying to focus on healing. Griz kept his hand over mine the entire time, and finally, the wound in his side and the wound in his leg both closed. Outside someone started screaming a horrible devastated scream, but then a gunshot echoed and the sound cut off. I swallowed, wrapping my trembling hands around my body again as my panic over Griz's injuries faded away to that empty nothingness again.
Somewhere in the distance some sort of automatic weapon started firing and the windows in the loft rattled.
“That’d be the machine gun in the watchtower,” Griz said grimly. “Let’s hope the rebels got to it first.”
Gods, how many people were dead? Or injured? And here I was with the power to save them, just hiding in the clinic like a fucking coward. I was a fucking coward. I’d always been too afraid to act, too afraid to risk my own survival, and I couldn’t live with that anymore.
I stood and Griz grabbed my arm, yanking me back down.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he growled.
“There’s probably hurt people out there,” I said. “I’m not just gonna sit in here and hide.”
He glared at me. “You serious?”
“You don’t have to come.”
“For fucks sake, Bones,” he gave me an incredulous look. “There’s no way in fuck I’d let you go out there alone.”
I stood again, feeling so strangely detached and calm. “Then let’s go.”
“You still have a fucking manacle—”
I crossed the clinic quickly, the chain clanking behind me, to where Vulture’s dead body slumped against the wall. I tried not to notice how many dead bodies littered the floor. To my relief, Vulture’s eyes had closed, and I didn’t hesitate before crouching and fishing through his shirt pocket where I knew he kept the key. Griz arrived at my side a second later, gun held ready and swearing under his breath. My fingers closed around the cold metal and I pulled the key out, bending to unlock the manacle on my ankle.
“You need any tools?” Griz asked.
“No,” I answered, shoving my boots on and standing. I wasn’t gonna deal with tourniquets and stitches and shit right now. I’d just use my powers. I was at least good for one thing—healing people—and that’s what I would do.
“Don’t burn out,” Griz warned, but I pretended not to hear him.
We stepped out into a grim scene. Bloody bodies lay collapsed in the snow, limbs contorted grotesquely. I didn’t have to go far to find one still alive. A young teenage boy I didn’t recognize had dragged his body halfway behind a barrel. He had his bloody hands pressed against the gunshot wound in his chest. His eyes widened in terror when he noticed us, but he didn’t say a word. I crouched beside him, but Griz grabbed my shoulder.
“He’s one of Madame’s,” he said in a low voice.
I stared at the boy, and he stared back at me, his nostrils flaring as he struggled to breathe. I could feel death creeping closer, like an icy breath on the back of my neck.
“Take his weapons then,” I said to Griz as I leaned forward and pried his hands away from the wound, replacing them with my own.
The boy started crying as my healing powers flowed into him, mending his body back together. Griz didn’t try to stop me, he just disarmed the boy of his gun and several knives.
“It’s ok,” I hoped I sounded comforting. “You’re gonna be ok.”
“I’m sorry,” he sobbed, thin shoulders shaking.
“It’s ok,” I murmured, watching the wound close. “Go home, alright?”
He nodded. As soon as the wound healed, I helped him up, grabbing him as he swayed. He glanced between me and Griz and swallowed hard, his throat bobbing.
“I was just followin’ orders,” he whispered.
As he stumbled away, Griz murmured, “I shot him. He was trying to get into the clinic.”
Gods, what was wrong with me? I felt nothing.
I didn't respond, turning and picking a direction at random. We'd only made it about half a dozen steps when a gunshot sounded from behind us and a bullet whizzed past my ear, so close the heat of it brushed my skin. Griz tackled me to the ground, shielding me with his body as more bullets flew around us. He twisted as we fell and returned fire. A strangled cry rang out, then silence. Griz leapt off me and darted over to a fallen body, checking for a pulse. I dragged myself to my feet and followed him, staring down at the dead eyes of the boy I’d just healed.
“Bones!” Griz snapped, standing back up and scanning me. “Are you ok?”
“He missed,” I mumbled.
“He must’ve grabbed another gun from one of the bodies.” Griz’s eyes flashed with anger.
I turned and started moving again. I knew I should feel angry or betrayed that the boy I’d just risked to save had still tried to kill me, but all I felt was tired. Griz walked behind me, almost on top of me he hovered so close.
“I’m sorry, Bones.”
I picked up my pace a little, hoping he’d get the point that I didn’t want to talk, but he kept up with me.
“You’re a good person for givin’ him a second chance.”
You’d think I would’ve learned by now that good people just ended up dead.
“It’s what Trey would’ve done.”
A sharp pain cut through the numbness, and I whirled on him. “Don’t.”
He stared down at me, his face grave. “He wouldn’t want—”
Thank the gods we both heard the sound of pained sobs at the same time. I took off, following the sound and trying to convince myself I wasn't running away from whatever Griz had been about to say. I slipped between buildings and spotted a man lying on the ground, clutching his leg. It looked like someone had shot his kneecap out. He twisted to look as we approached, and I stopped in my tracks when I recognized Lem. Behind me, Griz halted as well.
“Bones,” Lem said, his voice shaky, “help me. Please.”
I stared at him, and the bruises he’d put on my face seemed to pulse with pain.
“Bones, please,” he pleaded.
He’d smiled the entire time he beat me. I knew his type well, men who enjoyed hurting anyone smaller or weaker than them. I didn’t know the details of what he’d done to Sky, but it had left her terrified of most men. Despite all that, I still felt nothing. After a moment, I just turned around and walked back the way I’d come.
“Bones!” Lem shouted. “Please! I’m sorry!”
“You want me to take care of him?” Griz asked in a low voice as I passed him.
“I don’t care.”
“Bones!” Lem screamed. “I’m sorry! Please! No, don’t—”
I flinched at the gunshot, but I didn’t stop.
I kept going and all the faces blurred together. I healed everyone I found unless I recognized one of Madame's guards who delighted in afflicting hurt. Most of the fighting seemed to be around the watchtower now. The sound of the machine gun rattled inside my rib cage. I didn't know who the rebels were, so I couldn't tell which side had the most dead bodies littering the ground.
I wasn't aiming for the watchtower, but as I followed the bodies, we got closer and closer. I froze when bullets peppered the ground around me. One grazed my arm before Griz grabbed me and dragged me between the buildings. As he peered around the edge, returning fire, I inspected the shallow wound. I used my teeth to tear a strip off my shirt, wrapping it around the wound and called that good. As the gunfire continued, I leaned against the side of the building and closed my eyes. Exhaustion swept through me, but I wasn't at burnout. Not yet.
“Bones?”
I opened my eyes to see Griz moving toward me. He took my arm, examining my sloppy bandage job. He looked worried.
“Your arm ok?”
“It’s fine. Shallow.”
He frowned. “You at burnout?”
I shook my head, pushing myself off the wall and ignoring the sharp look he gave me. I thought he might argue, but all he said was, “You stay behind me.”
We crept through the hold, heading toward the market. None of these bodies still breathed. I tried not to notice their faces, but I recognized people, people I’d healed, people whose names I knew. As we entered the market, a slight sound from one of the booths caught our attention. I moved forward, but Griz grabbed my arm and pulled me back behind him. I followed as he approached the booth, gun raised. He stepped inside, and a strangled cry rang out. Griz lowered his gun, eyes widening.
“Jax!” He dropped down out of my sight, and I darted into the booth after him.
Griz knelt beside Jax who sat propped up on the side of the booth. His shoulder oozed blood and based on the amount covering his shirt and the floor, it’d been bleeding for a while.
“Don’t scare me like that,” Jax mumbled. “Almost shot you.”
I glanced at his hand lying in the dirt and gripping a pistol.
“Sorry, kid,” Griz said, peeling his torn shirt back to get a look at the wound. “Looks like the bullet’s still in there.”
I crouched, nudging Griz out of the way.
“Bones?” Jax’s eyes widened as he scanned me. “Your face—”
“It’s fine,” I interrupted, placing my hands over the wound on his shoulder and trying to ignore how much he looked like Dune.
“Where’s Mac?” Griz asked.
“Watchtower,” Jax rasped. “Madame’s holed up in her office.”
Thank the gods the bullet hadn't come out. It probably saved his life, preventing him from bleeding out. My healing power warmed my cold hands as I watched the bullet push its way out of Jax's skin until it dropped into the dirt. A couple of seconds later only a pink scar remained.
“That’s so fuckin’ weird,” Griz breathed, and I glanced at him to see awe on his face. He’d seen me heal a lot of wounds, but seeing a bullet come out by itself was something else to behold.
I sat back on my heels, tucking my icy shaking hands between my thighs. Jax touched the new scar on his shoulder with just the tips of his fingers, his eyes even wider.
“You ok to walk?” Griz asked him.
“I think so,” he said, giving me a hesitant smile. “Thanks, Bones.”
The machine gun started going off again, making all of us jump.
“That’s Raven,” Jax said, grunting as Griz helped him to his feet.
I wearily pulled myself up too, trying to ignore how everything spun.
"You getting close to burnout?" Griz asked, and I glanced at him to see his sharp eyes studying me.
“I’m fine,” I said.
Griz frowned, looking hurt. “We really goin’ back to that shit again?”
I didn’t have time for this. “Let’s go,” I muttered, moving to push past him, but he caught my arm in a tight grip.
He studied my battered face. His brown eyes were so different from Trey’s eyes. While Trey’s eyes had been so full of warmth and sunshine, Griz’s eyes were cool like pebbles in a mountain stream. I didn't know what he was looking for, so I waited, staring back at him. After a few seconds, he sighed and pulled me back so he could walk first.
“Stay behind me.”
I nodded and he released my arm, stepping out of the booth to lead the way. Jax followed behind him, leaving me to bring up the rear. As we left the market, the number of dead bodies increased. These looked like they'd been ripped apart, littered with bullet holes from the machine gun. The carnage and the smell of blood made me want to gag, despite all my experience.
One of the bodies let out a wet-sounding noise, and I quickly followed the sound to find an older woman gasping her last breaths. She had a huge fucking hole in her abdomen. I crouched beside her, then hesitated and glanced up at Griz.
“I don’t know,” he answered my unspoken question of which side she fought for.
I looked back down at her. She had precious seconds left. I wasn’t even sure if she could see me. Her eyes stared at the sky, unfocused and taking on that glossy sheen of death as she wheezed.
It’s what Trey would’ve done.
I laid my hands on the gaping wound and let my power flow as quickly as I dared. It took a long time to close the wound, draining me of energy and power as I very narrowly saved her life. When I finished, I pulled my trembling hands back, swiping my bleeding nose with my filthy sleeve.
“Bones?”
I met the woman’s eyes, now clear and focused.
“You healed me.”
“Yes.”
“Don’t waste it,” Griz growled at her, bending to take my elbow and help me up.
The woman swallowed hard, her eyes glimmering with tears. “Thank you.”
I tried to take a step away and swayed. Griz’s hand tightened on my elbow.
“Jax, cover us,” he said, jerking his head toward the woman.
Jax raised his pistol, keeping the woman in his sights as we moved up to the watchtower. Griz didn’t let go of my arm, and I didn’t argue. My legs wobbled like a newborn calf.
“How many more?” Griz asked once we managed to get up alongside the watchtower.
“What?” I asked, trying to catch my breath.
“How many more can you heal? And don’t give me that ‘I’m fine’ bullshit.”
I leaned against the cool stone wall. “One. Maybe two.”
He nodded. “That’s what I guessed. Kid, can you—”
Bullets slammed into the tower around us. Before I could react, Griz darted in front of me, taking the bullet meant for me. I tried to hold him up as he began to fall, but a sharp pain in my leg made me stumble, bringing both of us down. On the other side of Griz, Jax let out a horrible gurgling cry.
The machine gun roared to life in the tower, deafening me as bullets sprayed into the alley where the shots came from, tearing through everything in their path. I clapped my hands to my ears as I frantically scanned Griz. He clutched his abdomen, blood oozing, his nostrils flaring in pain. On the other side of him, Jax held his neck, choking as blood spurted between his fingers. Panic seized control of my lungs. Both wounds would kill them in a matter of minutes.
I moved without thinking, grabbing Jax and yanking him down beside Griz.
“Jax first,” Griz groaned, but I ignored him.
I put one hand on Jax's neck and the other on Griz's stomach. I'd never tried to heal two people at the same time before, but I didn't have time to second-guess myself. My healing power flowed differently, thinner, as I directed it into both of them. It hurt—a dull ache that grew sharper as I continued. Blood started trickling over my lips from my nose again.
“Bones!” Griz tried to pull away.
“Griz, don’t move!” I snapped at him, then out of desperation added, “Please!”
Thank the gods he listened. The bullet wound in his stomach began to close, but slowly. The wound in Jax’s neck did the same, but as I looked at his blue lips, I had another surge of panic. It wasn’t fast enough. He would run out of air before I could finish healing him, but I couldn’t stop healing Griz to focus on Jax because Griz would die in the time it took for me to heal Jax.
I clenched my jaw, determination flooding through me. I would not choose one to sacrifice. I could do this. I would do this. And if it killed me, so be it.
“You gotta start trying to save yourself too.”
I pushed Trey’s soft voice somewhere far, far away where I couldn’t hear it anymore, but it did nothing to stop the tears welling up in my eyes.
I closed my eyes, focusing on the healing power inside of me, and instead of just letting it flow, I pulled. It fucking hurt, but I just yanked up handful after handful of that power, forcing it to flow faster. I heard Griz gasp a curse and I opened my eyes to see nothing but blinding golden light like the sun had fallen to earth in front of us. I couldn’t see Griz or Jax, but I could still feel them under my hands. I could still sense their injuries healing, their bodies knitting themselves back together faster. Tears of pain rolled down my face, but I didn’t stop until I reached for more and grasped nothing but wisps of smoke.
It had to be enough because I couldn’t live in a world where I failed to save another person I loved.
I stopped pulling, and the pain vanished, but an icy cold rushed in to take its place. My body seized.
I remembered Trey saying my healing power felt like sunshine. I remembered the warm honey of his eyes in the light of my golden skin. I remembered him touching me gently, murmuring that I was beautiful. I heard shouting, but as the golden light began to fade, darkness roared up and swallowed me whole.