Crimson Lace

Chapter 27

WARNING: This chapter contains subjects that may be triggering for some individuals. Such subjects include but are not limited to: violence and gore.

ELLE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

I never thought of the world as pure evil. That is, not until now.

Nothing could hurt more than this. There is not a single thing that could compare to watching that bullet leave the barrel of Cane's gun. This man that has hurt me before. I'm now watching him hurt me again. Only this time, I will not recover from the wounds that are left behind.

I feel my lips form the word "No," but the sound is inaudible over the blast of gunfire. My body tenses and stills. It quickens and yet somehow slows down. I hold out my hands to stop the bullet from reaching Alec who lays across the ground.

It will pierce right through my palms. The weight of my fear and rage builds inside of me as I brace for the moment it breaks through my hand. A steady thrum is expelling itself from my fingers, a thrum of pure terror.

There is no sound of the bullet meeting flesh. I feel no pain in my hands and see no more blood from Alec other than the wound on his shoulder. Everyone just stares, eyes wide as they study me. I focus my eyes to find the bullet, suspended in the air, not inches from my hand.

It's frozen mid-motion.

A pressure is moving my blood to part of myself I didn't know existed, fueling an energy I didn't know I possessed. I shake my hands to rid myself of the shivering power and I eye Cane's face. The lines that crinkle his eyes into a confused glare, the downturn of his lips, the furry caterpillars of his eyebrows raised halfway up his forehead as he watches me, stunned.

The power inside of me thrums like a monster banging on glass. My hands thrust forward and so does the bullet. It changes its course, now in motion again as if it was never stopped. But now it travels backward, piercing into Cane's heart before he even has the chance to scream.

He drops dead.

The world pauses. I cough and cough again. I can't tell if I am screaming or laughing as I watch blood drain from his body. He's dead. I killed him. I killed a man. A horrible man. But that still doesn't give me the right to take his life.

My coughing grows more ferocious and consistent. My throat clenches as I try to take a breath. I killed someone. My stomach jumps and twists, threatening to empty itself. He's dead dead dead. I'm free. I'm a killer.

I look to a stunned Josephine as shouting echoes around. More guards flood to the scene. I'm surprised that there are any left after Alec's storm, but he seemed to have restrained himself.

Alec.

My attention shoots to him. He lays on the ground, looking almost as dead as Cane. His eyes are glassed over, his skin dripping with a cold, pale sweat. He's shaking uncontrollably, clutching helplessly at his wound as the blood spills out of it.

Josephine hauls herself to her feet, dusting off her dress. Her face is saddened, confused, and covered in tears as she spares a glance at her dead, feathered friends. She rushes over to Alec, hoisting him up.

My mind is full and my ears ring from the sound of the gunshots, but I see her lips move and can read the inaudible word. "Run!"

She doesn't have to tell me twice as a herd of soldiers appears behind us. The gunfire rings out. I expect blistering pain, being torn in half by the metal, but nothing happens. I dare a look over my shoulder and find the bullets again suspended in mid-air. I'm doing that.