“Japha,” Kilon firmly states.
Japha turns, but his path is quickly obstructed when Arek, Mak, Geo, and Beckah appear on the other side of him with readied weapons.
Kilon’s eyes bulge, and the crease between his eyebrows deepens until the anger contorts his face. I think of what he has been through at the hand of the man holding me so tightly that my arm is turning numb. Kilon keeps one eye closed as his gun directs its assault straight at Japha’s head.
“Kilon,” Arek directs, “not yet.” Arek’s hand is steady as he steps toward us. “Japha . . .”
“Arek there is nothing for you to say,” Japha suggests with a chilling scoff. “Navin and I have put into motion events that you will never be able to control. And for what? For your good? No . . . for the good of everyone in this room. Yet none of it can be stopped. It will happen whether I die today or not.”
Kilon shakes his head and squeezes his hands until I think I can hear his skin rub the metal. “He has no intention of letting her go Arek.”
“My intentions? You know them so well,” Japha growls.
This only enrages Kilon more. Sweat curls down the creases of his face and his lip tightens. The tension in the room builds until the walls seem to bend and Arek directs Kilon again. “Kilon . . . hold back.”
“Remy was yours to protect, Kilon? You never were worth anything—you or your family, or your wife,” Japha spews. Kilon charges forward, but Japha jams the gun behind my ear, forcing Kilon’s feet to screech across the tile floor and stop. “Do you think she can come back to life again? Is she that lucky?” Japha asks. This man rivals the greatest Velieri who have ever lived—the most powerful and the most learned. It is possible that each of us feel him Tracing, his desperation only igniting his power. “I made sure she died once . . .” Japha starts to press the weapon harder against my head. The click of the gun makes me jump and cry out. Yet nothing happens. I groan, my heart trying to tear a hole in my chest. His gun clicks again and again, but it does nothing. Japha swiftly grabs his knife.
Kilon and Arek shoot Japha in the body from both sides. Instantly, Japha’s body turns to stone, and his fingers finally release my skin.
Arek grabs me before I fall with the old man.
While Japha sputters and groans, Kilon stands over him. “Enjoy hell,” he growls. Kilon’s pulsing veins show as he reaches out, confidently places the gun behind Japha’s ear, and takes one shot at a time, calling out his dead family. “For my mom,” he shoots, “for my dad,” again, “for my sister,” and again. He remains bent at the waist, his wavering breath telling us of hundreds of years of suppressed rage, as Sassi comes to his side and touches his face. She pulls him by the chin until he grabs her in an embrace.
“You okay?” Arek whispers to me, as the others immediately load up more weapons.
I nod.
Suddenly Kilon releases Sassi and doesn’t wait before he runs to the door. “Where’s Navin?”
In a flash, we are on the hunt and climb the blood-marred and winding stairs. My wounds have already healed, so I’m able to keep up. We reach the room where I last saw Ian. By the time I walk through the door, Kilon is kneeling over his quiet body. I run to his side, dropping to my knees.
Kilon puts a hand on my arm. “I’m sorry.”
Navin is nowhere to be found, so the others have quietly gathered. “He saved me,” I whisper.
“We’ll get him back home.”
Arek puts a hand on my shoulder. “Come on. Let them take him.”
I stand up to take the space within Arek’s arms. Together, he and I walk away, leaving Ian behind for the others to tend to. After a few moments, we step outside of the house. For the first time in days, the sun warms my skin.
Colorful rooftops jut out in the distance, looking like Santorini, Greece. Yet, where we are is a sprawling two-story villa with two miles of beach between it and all other inhabitants.
Black tactical SUVs line the circle drive. Kilon, Geo, Peter, and others eventually exit with Ian, his face covered in a blanket. I watch, guilty that it was because of me that he died.
“I’m sorry, Willow,” Arek whispers in my ear.
“He was my last connection to who I was.”
Arek looks at me carefully, “But he died for who you are now.”
Diem and the entire army of vigilantes begin to emerge from the villa, showing the battle that has just taken place by their torn skin, bruising, and fatigue. Yet they smile at one another with a job well done.
One by one, from the front door and side doors of the villa, come twelve men and women with their hands on their heads, as officers follow with drawn weapons. Navin is nowhere amid his rebels.
“What about Navin?” I ask Arek.
Arek places his hand on my neck. “I’ll find him. I promise.”
“So, he gets away?”
“No. I will find him,” he promises.
Just then, Briston’s voice grows loud as several Protectors hold him back from attacking Leigh under the shade of palm trees nearby. Arek races to his side as Leigh pushes his way through with determination.
“What are you doing?” There is no hiding Arek’s distrust of his own father and his love for mine.
“I’m doing what I’ve been told to do,” Leigh states, without so much as a glimmer of remorse.
Peter is the first to step in front of Leigh, then Sassi behind him; Beckah and Geo finish blocking the thin man’s path to me. Mak and Kenichi are close and observe with care.
“I will arrest every single one of you. Do you understand? You make this choice. Peter . . . get out of the way, son.”
“No,” is all that the sixteen-year-old will say to his father.
Leigh raises his hand in the air and instantly his Protectors jump to his side, drawing the front line. When one of the Protectors reaches out and grabs Peter’s shoulder, everyone attacks. Yet I foresee how this will be with Leigh and all his power.
“Stop,” I yell. At first no one hears me. So I yell louder, “Stop!” The commotion dies down. Leigh’s surprised eyes connect with mine. “Take me, Leigh.”
