Page 9 of Saint’s Revenge

Then quieter. Fewer guns. Fewer voices. The sounds of hand-to-hand combat now—grunts, bodies hitting concrete, bones breaking.

A door slams open somewhere below. I hear someone shouting about the second floor. Footsteps pounding up stairs. Not the ones I'm lying at the top of, but different stairs somewhere else in the building.

Then different footsteps. Closer. Coming toward the stairs I'm on. I force my eyes open just enough to see through the haze of pain.

A man appears at the bottom of the stairs, gun raised. I recognize him immediately. Kyle. One of the Vipers. Young, cruel, always looking for an opportunity to prove himself to Daniel.

He sees me. Starts climbing the stairs slowly. Gun pointed right at me.

"Well, look at that," he says. "Demon was right. You're still here."

I can't speak. Can barely keep my eyes open.

"He said if the Phoenix came, I should make sure you don't leave." He's at the top of the stairs now, standing over me. "Said I could do whatever I want with you after."

He raises the gun. Points it at my head.

I close my eyes. Wait for it.

The gunshot comes.

But I don't feel anything. I force my eyes open. Kyle is falling backward down the stairs, blood spreading from the center of his chest. Dead before he hits the bottom.

And Lucas is standing there at the base of the stairs, gun still raised, absolutely still. His eyes find me immediately and widen with something that looks like horror.

"Riley!"

He takes the stairs three at a time, drops to his knees beside me. The gun clatters to the concrete. His hands hover over me, shaking, like he's afraid to touch me and make it worse.

"Jesus Christ. Riley, what—" His voice breaks. "What did he do to you?"

I try to answer. Can't get the words out. Everything hurts too much.

"Don't talk. Don't… Fuck." He looks around wildly, then back at me. His face is pale beneath the blood splatter. "I need to get you out of here. I need to—"

He slides one arm under my shoulders, the other under my knees. Lifts me as carefully as he can. The pain is immediate and overwhelming. Agony radiating from my ribs, my back, my head. I can't stop the scream that tears out of my throat.

"I know. I know it hurts. I'm sorry." His voice is ragged. "Stay with me, Riley. Stay with me."

He carries me down the stairs, moving as fast as he dares. Away from the second floor, away from the sounds of fighting that are already starting to die down. Toward one of the doors that leads outside.

We emerge into cold night air. He carries me around the side of the building, away from the main entrance, and sets me down against the outer wall. His hands frame my face, gentle despite the violence still happening inside.

"Look at me," he says. "Riley, look at me."

I force my eyes open. Focus on his face. On those brown eyes that look so much like Daniel's used to, before everything went wrong.

"I'm right here," Lucas says. His thumb brushes my cheek, comes away bloody. "I'm not leaving you. You understand? I'm not fucking leaving you again."

I want to tell him it's okay. That I understand why he left the first time. That I never blamed him for saving himself.

Instead I just whisper, "Lucas."

Something dangerous flashes in his eyes. "I'm going to kill him. For this. For what he did to you."

"Don't—" I cough. Taste blood. My hand finds his, grips it weakly. "Don't."

"Riley—"