THE UNDYING | TWILIGHT

18. Backfire

After the shot, Dahlia's tiny ears were ringing with a high-pitched screech that almost sounded like a woman's shrill scream, rendering all other noises practically inaudible. Although she couldn't hear her heartbeat, she could feel it throbbing in her chest like a jackhammer. With narrow, focused eyes, she stared past the smoking hot muzzle of her gun and was absolutely horrified to find her enemy still standing. She'd hit him — she knew she'd hit him, for the bullet had torn clean through his black shirt — and yet he seemed completely unhurt.

Demetri had heard the gunshots, something that caught even him off guard, but all he felt on his flesh was a little pinch, like a bug's bite. When he glanced down at his chest, however, he saw a hole in his shirt, and the pale skin underneath was dirtied with a layer of copper dust which he brushed away.

His jaw dropped in disbelief. "She shot me," he said to his colleague. "She actually shot me."

"A bold move," Felix had to admit. "Stupid, but bold. How did it feel? I've always wondered myself."

"Annoying," Demetri replied. "This was a brand new shirt. Who the hell gave her a gun?"

"Why don't you ask her?"

"She can't hear us. She can't hear anything, the fool. That's why she's just standing there with that dumb look on her face." 

Demetri and Felix turned their attention to Dahlia then and watched her lift the gun once more to shoot. 

Demetri rolled his eyes and let out a tired sigh. "Again with this? Can one girl really be this stupid? Felix, you take the bullet this time. My shirt won't withstand another hit."

Fearlessly, Felix stepped forward, forcing the gun to go off a second time. The recoil knocked Dahlia back, and her shot veered sharply to the left. Lifting his hand, Felix caught the bullet like it was a harmless rubber ball and crushed it into powder with his powerful fist.

"To think," he mused with a smirk, "this can actually go through a man's body and kill him. A little pebble like this can do so much damage. Fascinating."

Eyes widening, Dahlia's voice shook as she struggled to form words. "What the hell are you people?"

Again, she took aim and prepared to fire.

"She'll go deaf if she keeps this up," Demetri said. "And Aro is probably wondering why we haven't silenced her yet."

Felix nodded. "Right. No more games."

Quick as a lightning strike, he appeared in front of Dahlia and pulled the gun out of her hands. "Little girls shouldn't be playing with guns," he told her. "They're very dangerous."

Shrieking, Dahlia made another run for it, and much to her surprise, they allowed her to leave. Stumbling around on a broken heel, she ran past them both and fled down the dimly lit passageway. Less than ten steps out, however, she again crashed to the floor, smacking the side of her head against the stone.

With her blurring vision, Dahlia caught sight of a pair of shoes — black leather shoes with a little spot of blood on the left toe. They came toward her, these shoes, and stopped right in front of her; then she heard Santiago's soft, disarming voice in her ringing ears.

"Can you stand?" he asked, and then he offered his hand to her.

Never before would she have hesitated to take his hand. For weeks, Santiago been the sole glimmer of light in her darkest days. Not once had she seen malice in his eyes, only warmth and kindness. But on this day, when she saw Santiago's outstretched hand, Dahlia recoiled and stared fearfully into his bright red eyes, eyes he shared with both Felix and Demetri.