“Squeamish, hmm?” Novak pushed Raine's chin up with the gun barrel, forcing her to look up. “You and I are going to play such exciting games,” he crooned. “Get used to this position.”
She barely managed to shake her head. “Not,” she hissed.
“Enough.” Victor's voice rang out sharply. “This is vulgar and unnecessary. Let us discuss terms.”
Novak pulled her onto her feet with a smug smile. “How unlike you to get right to the point, Victor. Usually you talk in circles for hours. You must be nervous. Ill at ease. Was it something that I said?”
“Enough,” Victor repeated, in a stony voice. “What do you want?”
Novak leaned towards Raine and sucked her earlobe between his teeth, biting hard enough to make her yelp. “Everything, my friend,” he said. “The gun. The videotapes—all of them. Your niece. Your pride, your peace of mind, your sleep at night. I want it all.”
Victor made an impatient sound. “Don't be melodramatic. We've done business amicably for years. Why this sudden hostility?”
Novak assumed a hurt expression. “But you betrayed my friendship, Victor. You played with my most tender sentiments. And now, I am going to play with yours.”
Victor did not break eye contact with him. “Katya, I am very sorry,” he said, very softly. “You do not deserve this.”
Raine wiggled, trying to evade Novak as he thrust his tongue in her ear. She froze suddenly into place when he stroked the underside of her jaw with the gun. “That's for damn sure,” she said fervently.
“Your niece is even more exiting than Belinda Corazon,” Novak crooned. “Wilder, more challenging. I will be curious to study this videotape, Victor. To see what feelings are aroused, so I can compare.”
Their conversation in the vault suddenly flashed back, word for word, and with it, sudden comprehension.
Victor had been bluffing this monster with a dream. He had no videotape to bargain with. She met his bleak gaze, and read the terrible truth in his eyes. There was no need for words. There was no way out of this chamber of horrors.
“Is this what you meant when you told me that the Lazar dreaming could be useful?” she asked.
'This is a fine time to criticize me,” Victor said curtly. “I made this deal before you came back into the picture “
“Shut up!” Novak shrieked.
Raine flinched as spittle sprayed across her face. Novak swung the gun around and pointed it at Victor. “Listen carefully, Victor. These are the terms. I have a secret room all ready for your lovely niece. For every hour that you make me wait for those videotapes, I intend to—”
A high, arched library window burst and shattered inwards. One of Novak's men flew through the air and slammed onto the dusty floor, clutching his chest. Then the whole world seemed to explode.
Novak was screaming, Victor was yelling. Novak flung her away and whirled to face the new threat, which seemed to come from all sides. She spun through the air and hit the wall, hard. Karl shot wildly towards the library door. A single blast responded, and Karl pinwheeled his arms and fell to the ground, clutching the red, viscous mess that had once been his throat.
Another blast, and Novak grunted, knocked to the floor. Time warped into silent, syrupy slow motion as he struggled up onto his elbows and glared at Victor, his face twisted into a gargoyle's mask.
Novak lifted his pistol and aimed it at her. Victor leaped in front of her. The force of the shot slammed him back against her, pinning her against the wall. She felt a hot sunburst of pain in her back. Victor sagged, sliding down against her body. She caught him beneath the armpits. Novak lifted the gun and pointed it at her again, his lips stretched out in a gruesome death's-head grin.
Another deafening explosion, and the gun flew out of his hand. A horrible spray of red fountained out Novak bent over the ragged mess of his hand, mouth open in a soundless scream.
Another blast. He jerked, clutching his thigh and thudded facedown to the floor.
No air. Her lungs were a vacuum. Her heart a burning coal. And the earth was dragging Victor down with a force she could not resist.
Too late. He'd failed, he'd missed. Raine was sliding down the wall behind Lazar and the world had ended, here and now. He skidded to a stop and dropped to his knees in the spreading pool of blood. “Are you shot?” he demanded.
She stared up at him, uncomprehending. He tried to pull Lazar's body away from her so he could see how badly she was hurt.
“No!” Her arms tightened around the wounded man.
“I need to see if you're hurt, damn it!”
She shook her head. “He took the bullet for me,” she whispered.
Seth stared down into Lazar's face. His lips were blue. His eyes glittered, still sharp, still conscious. Lazar's lips twitched, but Seth couldn’t hear him. He leaned closer. “What?” he snarled.
“You were supposed to protect her,” Victor exhaled.
A harsh laugh burst out of him. “I tried. She's hard to protect.”
“Try harder,” Victor said “Idiot.” He coughed. Blood bubbled from his lips.
“Don't, please, Victor.” Raine's voice was shaking. “Try not to move. “Well get help, and—”
“Shhh, Katya. Mackey ...” Victor's eyes beckoned him.
He didn't understand why he should bother listening to the dying words of one of Jesse's murderers. But the man had taken a bullet for Raine. He leaned forward again.
“Strength is worthless if you have nothing to protect with it.” Victor's voice was a wispy thread of sound.
Seth stared into the dying man's eyes and saw in them all the bleak, empty cold that was waiting for him. He recoiled, enraged at the sheer, flicking nerve of the man.
“Pearls of wisdom from a murderer. Thanks, Lazar. I'll have that printed up on my letterhead. Better yet, I'll have it inscribed on your tombstone. You know what? This is a better death than you deserve.”
He just managed to catch the faint, amused smile on Lazar's lips before Raine shoved him away. “Get away from him,” she hissed.
He watched her bend over the dying man, murmuring something. Long, tangled locks of her pale hair straggled through his blood. She cried without making a sound, tears streaking through the blood and grime smeared on her face.
Lazar's eyes grew glassy and fixed.
Novak lay facedown, twisted and sprawled across the floor like a pile of discarded, bloodstained clothing.
Seth felt neither triumph, nor satisfaction, nor peace.
He felt nothing at all. Raine stared into Victor's face, using the old eye spell. If she didn't blink, he couldn't slip away from her. She'd only just found him.
But she was crying too hard. She couldn't help but blink. He was slipping away anyway, and no child's spell could hold him. She touched his face, a timid caress that left a smear of his own blood across his high, sharp cheekbone. “I guessed your password,” she whispered. “That was how I found you.”
“Clever girl.” She could barely hear him. “You didn't guess the password. You are the password.”
“I'm sorry I couldn't give you what you want.”
She saw the barest twitch of the corners of his mouth. “Yes, you did. Peter can forgive me now. If you can.” His eyes bored into hers.
She gazed back, and nodded. “I can,” she said simply.
There were no more secrets or lies between them, just the stately finality of dying, tike a boat drifting out into a vast emptiness.
It was like her dreams, and yet different This time, when the boat drifted away, she didn't panic or blubber or beg to be taken along.
She just held Victor's limp body in her arms, let the tears flow, and quietly watched it go.