Cress

Chapter 55

  Crack.
   Cress glanced up just as Iko slid off Wolf's back, landing   broken  and  
    mangled on  the  hard  ground.  A  shudder  tore  through  her. Even   from
   this   distance   she could see the torn flesh and sparking wires.
        "What was that?"
            She  returned  her  attention  to  Thorne. She  was  still  kneeling  beside
   him,  trying to steady him as best she could. He'd  taken  a  hard  punch  to
      his   stomach  that had knocked the wind from him, but at least he was
     breathing and talking again.
     "I think we just lost Iko," she said. "Can you stand?"
         Thorne  groaned,  still clasping  one  hand   to  his stomach. "Yeah,"   he  
    said, sounding none too convinced.
       Something  shuffled. Glancing   up,  Cress  squeaked  and   dug   her   fingers
   into Thorne's  arm. The  guards,  having  been  paralyzed  and empty  faced  for
the  past few moments, were twitching. One of them groaned.
    Beside her,   Thorne  pulled himself  to  his   feet.  "There.  Better,"  he 
  said,  though he was still grimacing. "Do you see my cane anywhere?  Or my
   knife?"
She spotted  the  cane  behind  one  of  the   guards, whose   furious  gaze 
      was  no longer empty or harmless.
      "Cress?"

     "Guards are up again," she said.
      Thorne flinched. "All six of them?"
              She glanced over her shoulder. "And  Cinder's on the  ground—she 
     might  be  unconscious.  And  Wolf's  still  under  Sybil's  control  and  I ... I
    think  he's  going  to..." She  squeezed  Thorne's  arm, horrified at  the  sight
    of  Wolf  pinning  Cinder  to the ground. She wanted to look away, but
        couldn't, like being stuck in a bad dream.
      "That all sounds very dire," said Thorne.
          Shivering,  she  pressed   her  back  against him,  wondering  how   her 
    death  was Iko's?
                 "I guess it's time."
              While Cress's   thoughts   continued to  churn through   the  horrible
           things   that could  happen  to her, she  felt herself being  suddenly  spun
           around   and   dipped backward, a   supportive arm  scooping  beneath  her
   back. She  yelped  and  caught herself on Thorne's shoulder.
         Then he was kissing her.
  The   battle   became   hurricane,  with   them  caught   in  the   eye—his   arms
         cradling   her  against    the  wind,  her skirt  billowing around his   legs,   his
  lips  gentle but coaxing as if they had all the time in the world.
    Warmth overtook her and Cress closed her eyes. She  thought  her   arms
  wanted to wrap  around  his  neck, but  her  whole body  was vibrating   and
  dizzy  and  she could barely keep her fingers clutched around the  fabric of
  his shirt.
  She had just finished melting when she   was   suddenly   righted again.
         The  world   flipped. Thorne  spun,  embracing  her  against his chest   with 
    one arm  while   the   other   reached   for   his   waist. Cress  heard the   gunshot
     and screamed,   pressing   herself   against   him,   before   she  realized that 
     Thorne was  the one who had fired.
   A guard grunted.
  Another  guard grabbed  Thorne  by  the  collar   and   he   turned,  elbowing
the guard in the jaw.
      "Cress, do me a favor." He twirled her around so that   her    back   was
against  him—she was beginning to feel   like  a  satellite   being   constantly
spun out  of  orbit,  but she had no  time to think as Thorne settled his  arm 
      on  her  shoulder. "Make  sure  I don't shoot anyone we like."
     He  fired  again  and  the  bullet  clipped  a  guard's  bicep. The  guard  barely
   flinched, and lunged toward them.
     Gasping, Cress wrapped her  hands around Thorne's  and aimed.  He
    fired  again, this time hitting the guard in the   chest.  He stumbled backward
     and tell.
           Cress swiveled, pulling Thorne's hand  toward the  next  guard. Another
     shot  to the  chest.  A  third shot hit  the guard's   shoulder. She   aimed
      for   the   fourth—
     Click. Click.
     Thorne cursed. "Well, that was fun while it lasted."
   The   guard   laughed.  He   was   tall   and   made   of   muscle, orange-red  
    hair that swept nearly straight up, and  he was the only guard that Cress
   recognized.  She'd seen him on the surveillance   footage before, usually 
   along  with  the  rest  of the queen's  entourage, which  meant  he  was  probably
  the   highest-ranking  guard among them.
  "If it's all right with you," he said, "I'll be killing you know."
        "Aren't  you  a  gentleman?" Thorne  said,  pulling  Cress  behind him  and
raising his fists.
A scream split through the wind.
      Not  just  a  scream,  but   a   scream  made  up  of  pain  and delirium, torture 
and agony.
      Cress and Thorne  both ducked and covered their   ears, and  at first 
   Cress  was terrified that   it was   Cinder.  But when  she ooked,  Mistress
   Sybil   had   fallen  on the  ground and  was  twitching  and  digging  her  nails
   into    her  scalp. The   scream went  on  and  on  as  she twisted   and   flailed,
  craning  her  head   so  fast  it   smelled again the asphalt,  then curling up 
   on   herself   like  a   fetus, searching   for   relief that wasn't coming.
Cinder still appeared  unconscious,  with Wolf hovering over her. But 
  then  he whipped his head like a  bedraggled dog and  sprang away  from
Cinder  with  wild, remorseful eyes.
          Cinder stayed corpse-like on the ground.