Potere | Book II ✓

xiv | stop the divinity

Diavolo looks like he's about to obey.  He was about to obey.  And in any other moment I would cry tears of joy at the sound of Liam's cellphone vibrating against the roof of the car.  It's tucked underneath his forearm, but the shattered screen still manages to light up the interior of the dark space.  I can't even see who's calling, but at this point it doesn't matter.  It's drawn Diavolo's attention on the only person in this car who can't protect them-self.

I retract my previous statement.  There is time to be scared.  What we don't have time for is a well thought out, calculated plan.

I'm not sure what terrifies me more.  The fact that Liam hasn't even budged, despite the phone vibrating against the sleeve of his shirt, or the fact that Diavolo is inching closer to him with every passing second.

Like I said, there's no time to devise a plan.

Liam can't fight back.  I can.

That's the plan.

My heart pounds against my chest and I can feel sweat coating my palms as I tug against my seatbelt, willing it to let me free.  I'm not scared for myself, I'm not scared for my life, but I'm scared for Liam's.  I'm terrified for Liam's.

I guess if I'm scared for his life, then I'm scared for my own.

His life is mine as well.

Diavolo is directly under me – above me – whatever, now.  I pause just long enough to witness him wrap a gloved hand around Liam's ankle.  Most of his body is inside the crashed vehicle.  I hear the distant sound of Russian's arguing, addressing Diavolo in the only way they know how.  With commands.  But I don't focus on them, I can't, not with the sound of my heartbeat hammering in my ears.

When he starts to pull Liam towards him is when I feel it.  Anger.  Anger that Diavolo is hurting the man I love.  The same man who can't even fight back.  The same man who has hundreds of soldiers willing to drop anything for him at the sound of his voice or the snap of his finger.  Their king.  And watching him being dragged in the assassin's direction like many of his fallen prey is enough.  It's the disrespect that angers me the most.

I stab my fingers repeatedly against the ejector button.  It's the fifth time that does it.  It sets me free.

I land on the planes of Diavolo's back awkwardly; right where the base of my neck and my shoulders meet.  I can feel the muscles in his back ripple as he lets go of Liam and recoils in surprise.  I roll off his shoulders and land right on top of Liam's abdomen.

I sprawl across his body and prop myself up, making it impossible for Diavolo to reach Liam unless he goes through me.

"Diavolo!" I can see the two Russian men behind the demon's shoulders, crouched by the window of the car.  Powerful weapons are strapped to their backs as they shout at him, trying to discourage him from going against Valentin's orders.  But the way he cranes his neck, eyeing me down behind his concealing outfit, I know he doesn't give a shit about orders.  He's coming for blood.

I take my eyes off him for a split second, just long enough to glance down at Liam's phone.  It's starting to ring again.  The only comforting thing I can take from that is the fact that the family knows something's wrong.  They have too.

When I look up, Diavolo is inches from my face.  His thin, face-concealing material brushes against my cheek, like a whisper in the wind.  I search for any identifying features, anything that could reveal his identity.  But that's when I realize I'm searching for something that isn't there.  A person.  And my body temperature drops at my epiphany.