Forty-five feet ahead, past the bushes and trees and the broken gate, is the building where Santino Mussolini resides. My blood clogs in my veins at the thought of it. He's there, mere feet away, unbeknownst that today'll be the last day of his life. I didn't expect to feel a thrill out of this, or even happiness, so I'm not surprised to be without those feelings in this moment. But what I feel is not numbness. Just...
Calm. Ready. I can do this in my sleep. Without the power of his army, he is nothing. I am the power of an army.
Just like Devina said, there are four men on the outside. Of the two I see, both don't hold their guns in a readied position. Rookies, like Devina implied. "Carlos come with me to the front. Hans and Leo to the back. We go on three. Ready?"
Both men nodded and I start to give the signal to move forward, but then I feel the hairs on my arms raise and with them I lift my gaze to a window on the second floor. I hold my breath as I watch a figure move around in the dim light. It's him. I know it in my bones that it's him. He's holding a mug, awake at this hour for some reason. Perhaps unable to sleep, the paranoia can keep even the most vile things up at night.
He moves around, the mug securely in his hand. It must be some sort of kitchen, I note, as he places what looks like knives and cutting boards away. My eyes don't tears away for the time he takes setting everything away. He crosses, seemingly about to leave, but stops with the mug halfway to his lips. A fist is lodged in my throat and for a moment I'm convinced he knows I'm here. He'll turn and he'll spot me and shit will hit the fan, ruining the entire plan. If he knows I'm here, he'll run. I know it.
But then he gives a slight shake of his head and finishes raising the mug to his mouth. Santino's figure disappears behind the brick wall, not a moment later, the light going with him. He's gone. I blow out my breath, feeling a slight ache at the strain on my lungs. It's time.
I give the signal. Crouched, Carlos and I walked forward into their line of sight while Hans and Leo move through the objects that provided cover towards the back. The two hadn't seen us, so Carlos and I waited, guns held up and ready to shoot. I made sure we attached silencers at the end, giving me more of an advantage in the surprise attack.
"At the back," Hans confirms. I look over to Carlos and he nods. We're ready.
I take a deep breath and risk a quick glance above. The sky isn't as dark as an hour ago. Black is replaced by teal and barely-there hints of yellow. The stars that only hours ago shone like diamonds now barely visible. I bite my lip, looking back ahead. Dawn is coming and fast. If we let it catch up, this will get a hell of a lot harder.
"One," I start and we start moving closer, risking being seen with every step. "Two," the two men at the front see us, scrambling to get their guns in a ready position. "Three," I order and the soft pop of bullets circles the building as they go down. The two men in front of Carlos and I go down at the same time. I touch my ear to piece, opening my mouth to speak when a loud pop startles me. Carlos' gun raises and I go rigid everywhere. Not more than five seconds after the muted sound of a bullet through the silencer goes off.
"Hans?" I ask through the earpiece. "Leo?"
No answer. Carlos' eyes meet mine and I know we both think the same. I jerk my head to the side, signaling for us to move toward the back. I keep my gun raised, calling Hans' and Leo's name over and over but still receiving no answer. Shit.
Shit. Shit.
With our guards raised as high as they go, we make our way to their spot. Both of us break into a sprint at the body laid on the floor with another person kneeling next to it. I stop next to Leo, who's putting pressure on Hans' neck that bleeds and bleeds. Leo, too, is bleeding from his side and it's stained through his shirt and dripping down his leather jacket. I put my hand on his shoulder, pulling him back and off Hans. He's dead.
Fuck.
"Get him out of here," I say, staring down at my dead man. When Carlos doesn't make a move to act, I tear my eyes off the body and toward him. "Now."
He snaps to attention, rushing to Leo and lifting him by his underarms. Leo limply rises, leaning his entire weight on Carlos, eyes not tearing from Hans. Shock, betrayal and grief go through his face as he stares at him.
Finally, he looks up at me. "He saved me. Pushed me out of the way. I-I didn't see the other one coming and he-he-he...fuck."
I take his chin in my hand, forcing him out of the stupor he was trapped in. "You're getting out of here. Getting to the nearest hospital and saying you got mugged. Leave your guns here and go. Take the car and don't die."
Leo nods, shifting his feet to get moving, but they don't. Carlos stares back at me, eyes wide and face full of horror. "We're not leaving without you."
"Yes, you are."
"Wait then, and I'll come back after I leave him and we'll finish this."
I glance back at the sky. The blue is sharper, brighter. Sunrise will be at any moment. I can't lose this opportunity. "No," I say. "Now go."
"I won't leave you to deal with seven people alone. Those are suicidal odds!"
I snarl at him. "Keep your fucking voice down! Get the hell out of here or so help me God I'll save myself the trouble and just shoot you both."
"Again?" Carlos bites back and the word is so packed with power that I reel back.
Again?
I don't get the chance to ask before he explains, letting go of Leo and coming closer. Leo stumbles for a moment before gaining balance. Carlos stops a foot from my face, jaw tense and brows etched together. "Three years ago you shot me. In the chest. Your father tried to keep you locked in and you escaped and I tried to stop you. You shot me. You have perfect aim. I've seen it with my own eyes. I should have been dead. And I'm not.
"I feared you for a long time after. Didn't trust you, but never dared to not do my job and always protect you. I've watched you for years get kicked down and pick yourself up over and over. I've sworn to fight by your side because you didn't choose this. I didn't choose this life either. And that fear is something I understood. So, I won't leave you. Not now, not ever until the day I'm gone.
"You have more than Elijah in regards to guards that want to protect you. You've been a compassionate leader. A leader that feels. We weren't weapons for you, we were soldiers. You cared about our deaths and our pains. I care about yours. So if you fight in there, it'll be a fight you win, not a fight you give up in."
I step back, vague memories of the moment he says coming back to me. Care for me? They care for me? After I murdered them in vast amounts? After I put them in harms way to end this entity that has been ruining my life since I was first thrust into it years ago? Care for me? They care for me? Would he wager his own life on that? If the ones that are dead because of my orders could answer that, would he be as sure as he is now?
Again, I step back, but this time I swing my arm too. Carlos barely has time to see it coming before my fist comes flying at his nose. His head snaps back and blood spurts from his nose. One hand comes up to it, immediately drenched in his own blood. I rip the gun from his other hand, tossing it behind me.
"There," I whisper, my heart beating erratically. "Now the mugging scenario looks more believable. Get the fuck out of here."
Leo is the one that moves first, fisting a bunch of Carlos' clothes and yanking him back. He moves with him, not protesting anymore, shock still on his face. Still, however, he looks back a few times and I clench my hand around the grip of my gun as I watch them disappear.
For fuck's sake.
I turn, refocusing my mind on the situation at hand. Seven men, six of which I have to take down first. I can try and take them one by one, but I'm sure somewhere after the third, they'll probably catch on and I'll be dealing with more than one at once. Still, I can take that. They're no match for me.
With that at the forefront of my mind, I slip through the back door of the building, breaking the cheap lock and changing tactics. The walls inside are old and coming apart. White sheets hang from above, creating some sort of cover I'll need. Rubble litters the floor and large trashcans are scattered. The first floor is vast and empty. Only four walls and some stone pillars holding up the ceiling. The echo inside here will either save or ruin me. I hear with acute precision every step I take, followed by the echo of it six times more as it bounces around. I also hear their steps inside. Somewhere in here.
Music adds to the difficulty in pinpointing locations, as some sort of choir song softly glides though the large room. Fucking basket cases. I try to ignore it for a moment, focusing on the steps and hiding my own, until the voice singing registers.
The last call of mercy now lingers for thee;
O sinner, receive it; to Jesus now flee!
I freeze, Angelo Mussolini's voice making my eardrums pound with the beat of my heart. For a second I'm taken back to the room with him and Michael before I yank myself out and move ahead.
And then I spot the first one. Their black boots, anyway. I grip my gun, edging closer and closer, making as little noise as possible. As they get closer, their silhouette on the white sheet in front of me becomes more prominent. I wait, white-knuckling my gun, until it becomes dark as a shadow.
He often has called thee, but thou hast refused;
His offered salvation and love are abused.
Ignoring the voice of a nightmare from the past, I come around the sheet, moving too fast to get a reaction and shoot my arm forward, snaking it around the mouth with my bicep. Immediately she bites and I grit my teeth, not budging. Her gun comes up and I use my other arm to twist hers back, sliding one of my legs between hers and wrapping it around the one she's leaning on. Flipping us over, the loud thud of the bodies sounds like a church bell.
Shit. Maybe it'll be less than three before I'm multitasking.
I twist my body just as her elbow comes down on my chest. My legs wrap around her neck as I start heaving. Again, little bitch starts biting my thigh, and I resist the urge to scream as I squeeze with all my strength. The echo of footsteps bounces around everywhere, close, far, fuck if I know. I feel the nerves coming and squeeze harder. Her teeth have torn through the fabric of my suit and pierced my skin, but they're less intense now. I keep my legs in position, gun in my hand, aiming at every sound that comes.
O slight not the warning now offered at last,
Till summer is ended and harvest is past;
Her body struggles once more before her body goes limp. So do I, slumping into the floor of a second as the lyrics to the choir song ring in my head. Angelo's words try to slither their way into my mind, but I push the away, getting on all fours to scope out the next pair of feet closest.
Fuck. I freeze, pocketing biter's gun and leaning on my calves, raising my gun. Someone's coming straight my way. "Isa, ci sei?" I look back at Isa and push to my feet. Guess they'll find me. (Isa, are you there?)
I focus on those nearing steps, gouging the distance until they reach me. But fuck, that echo and music are really kicking my ass. Enough so that I'm alerted of his presence only when his fist comes to my face. And he's strong, sending my body back several steps. He stalks ahead, readying for another punch. I feel the soreness of my cheek already, blood leaking inside my mouth from my teeth ripping through my cheek.
My hand catches his incoming fist on instinct, bringing me back to focus. He tries to pull, and I allow him to, bringing my own fist as he pulls us to him. The uppercut snaps his entire torso back. I let go of his fist, bringing my foot to kick him down. His body lands loudly and I know my cover is blown. I take out my gun and shoot a bullet through his head, stepping out of the cover of the white sheets. They'll become a liability.
Till mercy, long slighted, has left thy heart's door,
And pardon, sweet pardon is offered no more.
The music engulfs me, Angelo's voice forever taunting the worst parts of me. Except now I don't feel like it debilitates. Just hits at my walls, unable to get to me. Huh, I laugh to myself. How's that, you piece of shit?
Two men come barreling toward me. We still have some cover behind a pillar and a large trashcan. Their guns raise to shoot at the same time I throw my upper body down, pushing my legs into the air and wrapping them around the neck of one. I come up, drawing my gun and firing a bullet at the second guy. It goes through his forehead, and his body falls while the one I'm on tries to claw at my face.
Swinging my body back, I send both our bodies down. His slams into the floor face first, a crack echoing. I land on my knees, stunting myself momentarily with a sharp pain. He doesn't move but, for good measure, I grab him by the hair and slam his head back down again onto the stone. Another crack echoes as blood begins to pool around his head.
The noises catch the attention of the final two. I stand, wobbling for a moment on my knees. They take that slight weakness as an opportunity and come charging my way. I don't recover fast enough to dodge as the woman tackles me. My back slams into the ground and I start coughing like a stage four cancer patient. One boot comes down onto my stomach and the coughing worsens, but I manage to grab onto the foot. I bring my legs around the man's leg, pushing him to the ground with my feet. With a bit of struggle, he falls, but I have no time to finish him off as the woman kicks me back.
While Jesus is calling, O turn not away;
Motherfucker! I let myself cough some more before I get to my feet and head for them. The woman comes my way while the man is still trying to get up. She throws a punch that I dodge and I use that leverage of her body going through the empty air to swing my fist into her ribs and then bring my elbow into her back. She stumbles, momentarily stunted by the pain of an elbow to the spine. I take advantage and slam my calf into he neck then spin around and ram my own boot into her face. Her whole body twirls as she falls on her back, out like a light.
I blow out my breath, exhaustion beginning to weigh on my bones. When I turn to finish the other one, I get my air knocked out of me with a punch to my throat. Momentarily, I choke, a cough trying to wedge its way past. And I'm defenseless as the man yanks my arm and swings me around, slamming my body into a pillar. I manage to bring my hand to lessen the blow, but not before my cheek scrapes again the rough stone.
For swiftly approaches the dread Judgment day:
I hit him with my elbow, but he blocks my attack, wrapping both his arms around mine, shoving me against the pillar. I pant, exhaustion, exertion and pain blindsiding me all at once. My cheek stinging with the roughness of the stone against the cuts. I gasp, feeling him go for something and the thought of being brought down by some lowlife son of a bitch fuels me.
The Spirit invites you, O why will you roam?
I brace my forehead against the stone, gritting my teeth as I push against the stone. With little impulse, I slam my ass back, hitting his groin. He cries out in anger, but doesn't let go. He does, however, stumble. I take the small space, pushing my foot into the stone as he tries to slam me back into the pillar. It's enough force to allow me to climb up, and I do. Quick enough that by the time he catches on, my feet are above both our heads and I'm launching us into the air. He lets me go and I land on the ground, hands braced on the floor while he lands on his stomach. I waste no time and take his gun, shooting right through his head.
Come now to life's waters, ye thirsty ones, come.
The hairs on my arms stand as with the ones on my neck. I freeze, my blood swirling in my body. I throw one hand in my waistband and spin, bringing both guns up to face the men watching me.
Santino Mussolini and one other goon. So there were seven.
My guns remain in the air, pointing at each of them. I can end it. Right now. Two bullets and it's all over. Everything. I become acutely aware of the sting in my cheek, arm, leg and wrist, as well as the blood coming out of all three. My body aches everywhere. Santino stares at me, just as the song ends. The rooms drowns in silence until I hear a click.
I squeeze the trigger but it's not my bullet that is fired. Santino's goon falls to the ground, the bullet lodged in the back of his head, fired by his own master. The entire time, Santino's eyes remain on me. Even when he throws the gun off to the side.
"Funny," he says and begins to walk, forming an open circle around me. "I was getting ready to come to you. Let's talk."
I keep my guns up, following his movements, fingers squeezing around the grip as my mind begins to reel.
"I want this to end, Anastasia. I'm sick of this fight. It was my father's fight. My sister joined to please him. I did it for revenge. I don't care anymore."
I do. I care.
"You killed the people I love and I returned the favor." I seethe at the mention of them, but my mouth remains shut. His doesn't. "I would have wanted to get back at your father, but I guess I've moved on. I just want to stop this exhausting back and forth. This bloodbath."
His eyes stay trained solely on my face even as I threw both the guns off to the side. I join in on his circular walk. "So am I," I say. "But I wasn't the one to start this."
He nods. "Your father did. The Alfonsi's, too. We're just the ones who got stuck dealing with it."
"You act like my father wronged any of you," I scoff. "What business do you think we're in? There are no morals here. Your father kidnapped children and tortured them into submission. Your father was a piece of shit human. He was evil for the sake of it. So was your sister and so are you."
Something in my words makes him laugh. "You believe you're the good person here? The hero?"
"No. I'm no hero. Neither are you, despite whatever biblical charade you conjured up. It's just another round of psychological fucking that your family loves."
"And why not?" He cocks his head. "Why are you not the hero?"
"Same reason you are. I use people to get what I want. I enjoy killing and I don't mind killing to get my way."
"Right. You mean like you sent all those people last night to die in my remaining locations? It was a definite massacre. You knew that. And you managed to convince them to die for you. You've done that for months. Since before I began picking off your little team. Only when I started, you stopped trying to mask it. Just started letting people die for your own twisted plan. You've reduced an entity that has had a chokehold on the world for generations to nothing. You think that makes you better than me because I did the same shit just to kill you?"
For a moment I still, not breathing or moving or doing anything but staring right at him. A definite massacre. You knew that. One moment I've turned into a statute and the next I'm charging for him, shouting as I do. "You took everything from me. I don't give a fuck what you think of me."
He watches me as I close in, not moving a single muscle. Until the very last second, where I'm close enough, and he moves in a flash. His hand flies up at the same time he puts one foot back. I stop, his gun mere inches from my chest. I look down at the piece of metal, then back at him, and I close the space, pressing the gun to my body.
"Do it," I warn. "Before I think better of it and slice your throat."
His finger goes over the safety, removing it while his other finger slides over to the trigger. "My father wanted your power, my sister admired your character, and I am simply disgusted by your loyalty. Where is your father now?"
I clench my fist, my heart beating at the speed of a racehorse. "Somewhere you'll never get the chance to know."
He laughs, opening his mouth once more. For a second, I want to listen to what he says. To hear his answer. But the urge goes as fast as it comes, overpowered by the need to put an end to this nightmare. To the last of the demons that have been chasing me. As he stands there, the world moves in slow motion. His laugh bounces in my head like a grenade and as he opens his mouth, the last of my patience implodes.
My hand flies out, the switchblade I had attached to my wrist coming loose. I catch it just as my knuckle grazes his throat, fixing my grip and slicing right through the tender flesh. I keep it there, lodged at the other side of his throat, feeling as his warm blood slides like liquid silk through my fingers and palm. Not a sound comes through my ears except for the smooth running of blood and I'm trapped in that scene, mesmerized by the view. My rings disappear under the stream of red and the sight is what has me ripping the blade out, cutting through the flesh.
Time, once slow enough to dance through the seconds, catches up to my little moment. Santino chokes and I stumble back, the time I lost while stuck in it collapsing in on itself. He falls to the ground, his gun sliding through the ground. A thin stream of white smoke comes out of the muzzle and little stains of red decorate the outside of it. Santino holds his throat one second more before his hands fall limp and all movement ceases.
I wait until I'm sure he's dead. Gone, finally. I wait until I'm sure of that fact to allow myself to fall, the stone hitting my knees and one hand, covered in Santino's blood, braces against the ground to hold me up. The other clutches my chest, stained red with my own blood. I look down at where my heart hides under fabric, flesh and bone, to the small hole that broke through them all. My heart, struggling to continue it's beating, thumps in my whole body, letting all of me know the limited time I'm allotted.
"Shit," I whisper. Nothing stronger than that manages to come out. My hand on the ground gives out and I collapse to the ground. I turn on my back, applying pressure on my heart with both hands, but nothing stops the steady flow of blood.
I want to laugh at the absurdity of this. Finishing it all. The Underworld, the Mussolini's and myself. My own victory and I won't be able to revel in it. I want to say it's what I want, but fear takes hold of me, mixing with the memories of everyone back in Palermo. My parents, Emilio, my siblings, Ash, Elijah. Their faces flash before my eyes, smiling down at me. And I find myself begging.
"I don't deserve it," I say into the empty space, tears squeezing out through my shut eyes, to every God, the universe, anyone listening, "but help me. I don't deserve mercy, but grant it to me. Please. I'm scared. I'm so scared."
The beat of my heart slows. My strength slowly goes, I feel it in the exhaustion that blankets me until it suffocates. All I can do is cry and beg to be let down easy. Alone, next to an enemy is how my end comes. How fitting.
I deserve this. I brought myself to this. A victim of my own invention, but I'm terrified. The silence becomes more deafening and my blood is slowing down through my veins. I taste it in my mouth, sliding down the corners of my mouth and out of my chest. All the times I've thought of my heart wanting to burst through my chest and it's finally come to that. I can't stop crying.
"Please," I mumble again, though tears, spit and blood. "Please. Please. Please."
I tense, bringing pain to my body, as a whisper of a touch glides through my cheek. My flutter open, blinking languidly at the tears piled on top. A bright, white light blinds me. I blink again, clearing the last of my hazy vision with the last drops of strength left in me. The light fades into the background as a clear picture comes to view. Eyes, I make out. Brown, beautiful eyes and a smile that warms my body. I blink again and his face appears.
"Hey, Sia."
I can't help the sob of bliss that tears through me. His hand takes better hold of my face. One hand leaves my chest, holding onto his arm with everything I have. "Nick," I cry. "Nick. Nick."
He smiles, "it's okay, nena. It's okay. You'll be okay. We'll all be okay."
Right then, the rest of the picture clears and I cry again as more faces come to view. Eyes as blue as the sky smile at me. Gabriel stands above me, his arm wrapped around Mateo's shoulders as he holds Veronica's hand. I sob, watching their welcome, smiling faces gazing back at me. "I never thought I'd see you guys again," I tell them. "I missed you guys so much. So, so much."
"So did we," a deep voices from behind the light comes. I blink and there is Armando. His dark hair clean and his body clad in that black jacket he always wore. No scars or blood mar his face, just smooth skin all around. My slowing heart clenches when a smile curves his lips. "You've done good. I'm proud of you."
I'm proud of you. More tears slide down my face, but they're wiped off by another hand. I look at my other side and before I can speak, he does. "Miss me, Bella?"
Jacob takes my other hand, clutching it in his as he wipes the incoming tears. "Because I've surely missed you."
"So have I," I promise. "Every day."
Nicolas runs his hand through my hair, curling a strand around his finger. My eyes close, every part of me basking in his touch that I've dreamt of so much. Every hour spent on the cold floor, I used to imagine his arms around me. And now he's here, doing everything I've fantasized about since he was ripped from me. I don't want to ever live without this again. I turn to him, gripping his arm harder. "You said," I gasp for any air, "that even in the...even in the afterlife I'd be yours. Did you mean it?"
He sighs, hand going back to my cheek. "Baby, the hold up is yours. I'm here waiting."
I clutch his hand over my face, sobbing into his palm at the words. Like always, with anything he says, I'm whole again. Nicolas leans in, his forehead touching mine and his breath caressing my lips as he says, "cross my heart."
Holding his face to mine, bliss courses through my body with the feel of him. In that moment, I don't feel a thing. Fear, anxiety, worry, it all fades away as his skin touches mine. Nothing matters more than this. More than him.
"And beg to die," I finish.
A hand comes over my back and I open my eyes to realize I'm standing. Nicolas holds my hand, leaning in to tickle my cheek with a soft kiss. On my other side, Veronica stands, hand on my back and an encouraging smile on her face. They all surround me, giving me the strength I don't have.
Still, the urge to look back gets me to do it. I gasp, seeing myself on the floor, tears on my face and both hands clutching desperately at my chest. All alone, depressed, dying. I'm suffering, like I have for so long. Long enough to forget what this is. This feeling of belonging and peace. Like everything will be okay. I'll finally be okay. That in mind, I look back ahead to the faces that have pushed me forward when I couldn't do it myself. I hold onto Nicolas' hand, reach for Veronica's, and with everyone by our side, I step forward.
Toward the light.