The gun he wanted to use in a perfect display of irony to bring Ashwood to his knees.

“Make me proud,” Ashwood said, placing a hand on Zekia’s shoulder.

She nodded.

The bullet, Wesley tried again. Kid—

“I’m sorry I didn’t do this sooner,” Zekia said.

She squeezed the trigger and in an instant, Wesley’s world broke into a million pieces.

The gunshot was like an explosion and in the time it took for Wesley to blink, for his heart to pound furiously in his chest—just once, like a dying scream—Tavia stumbled back.

Her hand went to her chest.

There was blood. So much blood. On her hands and dripping from her mouth.

In the distance, he thought he heard Saxony cry out.

Karam screamed in grief.

“Wesley,” Tavia said in a gasp.

This isn’t happening, he thought. This can’t be happening.

Wesley blinked and for the first time he saw the world truly ending.

If she died, then there was no going back. If he lost Tavia, then nothing mattered. Not magic and not time and not winning this war.

Tavia hit the ground, hard enough that it sounded like another gunshot.

She reached out a shaking hand toward him. One last attempt at a lifeline.

Wesley didn’t move.

Couldn’t move.

Couldn’t breathe or think straight.

It’s not real. It’s not real. Please don’t let it be real.

And then her arm fell and her eyes closed and Tavia’s breath stuttered to a final stop.

37

SAXONY

Saxony saw her fall.

The bullet hit Tavia and the time it took for her to tumble to the ground stretched between the seconds.

The Kingpin’s glee broke her concentration, releasing Saxony from the spell that pinned her in place. Yet she still couldn’t move.

In a moment, in a single gunshot, the truest friend she had was gone.

And her sister had been the one to do it.

Tavia was sprawled across the ground behind Ashwood and Zekia, covered in too much blood for Saxony to bear looking at.

She was still and pale and Saxony’s gut wrenched.

It was like being kicked in the stomach over and over, until she could barely pant out a breath.

Tavia was gone.

Wesley knelt beside her, unblinking, almost frozen.

There was no fury in him, just despair.

“No,” Saxony said in a whisper. “She’s not…”

She swallowed, like she was swallowing words too terrible to speak, and buried her head in Karam’s shoulder.

“I am so sorry,” Karam said. “I thought I could stop it.”

“What are you talking about?”

Karam pulled away and steadied Saxony’s shoulders with her hands.

“I am sorry,” she said again. “But we still have to finish this. We have to fight for her and all of the others.”