Fear Her Wrath

Chapter 43

"And so, with her back against the wall, the hero realized that the person she thought was her worst enemy was the only one who could save her."

Psychosis was grinning behind his mask as he swaggered his way down the hallway. The knife he used to murder Boss Lynam was twirling between his fingers, and I felt my teeth clench.

"Why are you here?"

Psychosis titled his head to one side.

"Weren't you listening? I'm here to save you. Don't pretend like you don't need it—I mean, a girl with some smoke bombs and a stick against fifteen mafiosi with machine guns and gas masks isn't exactly..."

I held up a finger to shush him.

"Ellie, how many of them are there?" I whispered.

"He's right, Maggs," came Ellie's voice, which was strangely subdued. "I count fifteen. Mostly soldiers from the Vaccari regime. And Gerard Rosinski's crew."

"And the gas masks?"

"Yeah, they're like... they're pretty prepared."

I cursed under my breath. Psychosis was carving a "Nightwrath + Psychosis" heart into the wall with his bloodied knife. I was thinking longingly of how bad things looked a minute ago, before my archenemy showed up and made them even worse.

"You're running out of time, Maggie," said Psychosis, who didn't seem the least bit concerned. "I mean, if you'd rather us just kill each other in a final desperate struggle before Dalton Reaves has a chance to gun you down, that's fine, but I confess it'd be a little... anticlimactic for your fans. That little girl in apartment 307 would be so disappointed."

I looked back at the door to the McFarren's apartment. Psychosis, annoyingly enough, was right. I had unfinished business with the Imperium, and that was as good an excuse as any for self-preservation. The Fen needed me. And besides, getting shot by Dalton wasn't exactly my preferred way of going down swinging.

Still, I wasn't about to play along with his game.

"And why should I—?"

"Trust me?" he said. "Because, dearest Nightwrath, if you don't get out of here alive, I certainly won't."

That was almost a good point. Almost. This still had to be a trick.

"I thought you were working with them," I pointed out.

"Yes, well, it turns out Don Lucy was, shall we say, disappointed with my failure to repay the loan he gave me for our date at the church," said Psychosis, as if wearied by Lucian Montagnese's stubborn irrationality. "I'm not sure where he got the idea he would get any of it back, I mean—."

I turned up the voltage on my staff as he got a little too close.

"So what, you're just going to help me get out of here out of the goodness of your heart?"

He gave an exaggerated, snorting laugh.

"Of course not, darling. I'm going to help you because until you're on your knees, begging for my love, this isn't over."

I heard the front door burst open and the shuffle of booted feet two floors below. We were out of time.

"Fine," I said. "Guess I don't have a choice."

"You're correct," he said gleefully. "Now, let's find out what kind of team we make."

I tried not to gag at the thought. With a sigh, I finally lowered my staff. I was working with Psychosis to save my own skin.

Not exactly my most heroic moment.

"So," I prompted. "What's your plan for getting us out of this?"

I could tell he was smiling again.