Rich Kids Don't Die | Featured

Chapter Thirty One

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THE CRUDE COMBINATION of those five syllables reverberated in the small enclosure, amongst vitality and winding moss and dying blue irises. Asher's breath caught in his lungs, and his eyes shut to a close as he tried to contain his self-inflicted fury.

A stream of hazy images flickered back in Maddie's mind once more, of raven black hair and hard glares and a natural proficiency with magic that no one had expected. Fragments of time in which they had fought, and occasionally agreed. Finally, of cold, callous hands wrapped around her neck, and the jolting sensation of horror that had struck Maddie when suddenly she was gone.

Distracted, Maddie barely managed to follow Alex's gaze towards the entryway, where a tall, dark shadow flashed across the arched, crumbling beige walls that held them all here. A small flicker of disbelief erupted in her mind. Trails of self-doubt quickly followed.

As Maddie tried to calm herself, a pin drop, fleeting silence ensued. Other Golden Sniper agents paused briefly, analyzing the perimeter, as if expecting someone. A small stillness hung in the air. Another figure, hardly distinguishable in his swaying black cloak, moved across the broken stones on the floor and past the other men towards where Katya was stood.

Inches away, he stopped, his fingers reaching up to lower his hood. It fell swiftly down to his shoulders. His shadowed features became illuminated by rays of sunlight, only to reveal red curls surrounding a set of narrowed, emotionless amber eyes and thin lips pressed into a hard line.

Kazimir.

A decade's worth of fury seeped into Katya's bones. Her fingers twitched, ardent for the sensation of cool metal and power in her hands. His sharp gaze swept over the wall she was stood against before he turned away disinterestedly.

For as long as Katya could remember, her brother had always been this way; hungry and prowling for violence with such intensity he bordered on insane. Every movement of his embodied this hunger – the emphatic harmony of strength in his back, the metallic tension in his arms.

He was the solicitor of death, blessed with the forsaken power to destroy everything he touched. With every breath of his Katya pictured the crooked, blackened halo of a fallen angel on his head. A raven soaring amongst thunder.

Transfixed, Katya's gaze followed her brother as he barked orders to the men surrounding him, and almost unthinkingly her fingers reached down to her waist, curling around a sharp glint of metal buried in cloth.

A rush of cold ran up her spine, like ice dripping off of her bones. She felt a sharp tug at her shoulder, the bones in her arm working automatically as her fingers inevitably loosened. Suddenly the feeling of freeing tension encompassed her body, and she watched as the small, spinning knife hurdled straight towards her brother's head.

Then Kazimir turned his head, and the whistling of the silver bird sailing through the air subdued as it skimmed the skin of his forehead with a sharp trill. The knife fell to the floor with a soft thud. Scarlet drops of blood freckled the fabric of his cloak; for once, it was his own.

Katya's triumph was short-lived. Her gaze quickly fell upon Alex, and he met her fiery eyes with storms in his own, forest green blazing with disbelief. The five soldiers medaled with the status of her friendship now shrunk back in dread against the wall, anticipating war.

Kazimir's features twisted into a sneer. The glittering sunlight cast on his red locks resembled the flames in his eyes, flickering with magic and danger.

The cracked earth underneath his feet gave way as he strode towards where Katya was stood. A bizarre abundance of bravery swept over her, and she straightened as he approached.