He boosted me up next, dumping me in an uncoordinated sprawl on the other side. Then he jumped over behind me. He shoved me toward the stairs to the upper level, but the sounds of the struggle were too much for me. I didn’t want to leave Jim. He and Juri were locked in bone-crunching combat: Jim’s acrobatic yet devastating kicks and punches against Malachi’s clipped and efficient style. Each of them had a knife clutched in one hand. Their movements were almost a blur.

Juri faked to the left and then whirled before Jim could recover, slashing his blade along Jim’s ribs and soaking his white tux shirt with blood.

Tegan screamed.

Jim flinched as his gaze darted over to us. “Get out of here!” he shouted, his voice cracking in desperation. “Henry, get them out of here!”

Henry stepped up behind Tegan and wrapped his arm around her waist. But her shriek had shaken Jim, pulled him from his zone. With a quick, brutal punch, Juri had him doubled over and staggering. He pressed his advantage by kneeing Jim in the face, sending his head snapping back. The look of evil delight on Juri’s face tore at my heart.

Henry and I stepped forward at the same time, determined to help Jim, but that was the moment Juri grabbed Jim’s hair and wrenched him to his knees. He yanked Jim’s head up, letting us see his wide blue eyes, full of pleading.

“Run,” he whispered.

And then Juri plunged the knife into his neck.

Henry whirled around as Tegan shrieked and dove toward the window. It took the two of us to drag her back while Juri finished off Jim, allowing his limp, twitching body to fall to the dirty floor. Juri lifted his head and met my eyes.

“Soon,” he mouthed.

Henry grabbed my arm, and we ran.

THIRTY-SIX

THIRTY-SIX

HENRY DROVE US STRAIGHT to the Guard house. It had taken all of my rapidly fading strength to hold Tegan down on the way. She was completely hysterical, screaming for Jim, and the sounds that ripped from her throat harmonized perfectly with the shrieks for Malachi in my own head.

We pulled into the driveway of the Guard house just after three in the morning. Raphael was waiting on the steps, grim-faced. Henry got out of the car as I struggled with Tegan.

Raphael walked slowly down the steps, his eyes resting on Tegan, who was alternating between hitting me and hugging me. Deep, wrenching sobs rolled from her tiny frame. He opened the passenger door, focused entirely on her.

“Look at me, Tegan,” he said. His voice flowed over me, golden and warm.

Tegan stopped struggling and obeyed him.

He squatted in front of her and looked into her eyes. His expression was so compassionate, so intimate. I scrambled out of the car to get away from it.