Page 175 of Kill Feed

I try to shout at him to stop, but Mason’s weight keeps the words trapped in my throat as he presses down harder.

Does he know they’re up there? FUCK.

My eyes flick toward the podium where darkness has swallowed Selene and her silhouette as they stand completely shadowed.

Fuck. What if they—

SWOOSH.

A sound slips through the arena like a crack splitting the world in two, drowning out the rain, the machinery, even the frantic rhythm of my own breathing.

An arrow pierces through Dante’s side, and he drops to his knees. Blood forces through his fingers, streaking down his clothes before dripping onto the platform.

My body shuts down completely.

I can’t breathe. I can’t fucking think.

No. NO. This isn’t fucking happening. He can’t die. He can’t fucking die.

“Well, isn’t that fucking nice,” Mason drawls, turning his attention toward Dante as he watches him crumple. “You can’t even protect him.”

His words are barely cold when the panic that swelled in my chest stops as abruptly as it began.

My eyes lock onto Mason, and in the split second that his attention remains fixed on Dante, I move.

I seize his leg with both hands and throw my weight sideways, twisting hard enough to take us both over the edge of the platform.

Instinct takes over, and just before the cold water crashes over my face, I fill my lungs as deeply as I can, the same way I always do before diving into a pool, when the world above the surface becomes too loud, and the water is the only place quiet enough to think.

As we submerge, I claw my arms around Mason’s waist and lock myself against him, holding on with whatever strength my battered body has left. He thrashes violently, kicking and twisting in an attempt to tear himself free, but I don’t let go.

I force everything else from my mind as we sink deeper.

The rain disappears beneath the surface, the neon lights dissolve into warped colors above us, and for a few precious seconds, there is nothing but the pressure of the water and Mason’s desperate struggle against me.

My lungs begin to burn almost immediately, compounded by the exhaustion already weighing down every muscle in my body, but I know what I can endure.

90 seconds. That’s all I need.

Bubbles spiral upward around us in huge, trembling circles as Mason fights beneath the surface, his body bucking against my grip. We finally reach the bottom, and I anchor myself there, locking my legs around him as tightly as humanly possible.

Everything burns, begging for oxygen, but I pour whatever strength remains into one thought: this ends here.

Mason’s movements become less frantic, and the violent struggle that has rattled through the water slowly gives way to something quieter, until his body barely moves at all, but I don’t dare release him just yet. I need to know. I need to be certain, because I don’t have enough left in me to do this twice.

Eventually, his body slackens completely, the last involuntary twitches rippling through him before even those cease, leaving him utterly still.

I release him, planting both feet against the bottom and push upward with everything I have left, breaking through the surface with a violent gasp as air tears into my lungs.

I grab the edge of the platform and cling to it, coughing as I drag myself upward. My arms nearly give out twice before I manage to haul my body over the edge.

I collapse onto the platform, stray raindrops striking my face as I lay there gasping. I drag in enough air to make my lungs stop feeling like they’re collapsing, then force myself upright. My legs barely cooperate. Every muscle in my body trembles as I stagger toward Dante, but I make it only a few steps before my knees buckle and I catch myself against the floor.

I crawl the rest of the way.

He’s still alive, but barely fucking so.

His breaths come shallow and uneven, each one catching somewhere in his chest as I drop beside him and wrap my fingers around the arrow.