Luc staggered into me, and my arms went around him, trying to catch him, but it was no use. He was too large and heavy. I was hit with a wicked sense of déjà vu as Luc went down onto one knee, his grunt of pain sending a jolt of pure terror through me as his weight dragged me down to the space between the closet and the bed.
Red, nickel-sized holes appeared in the front of Luc’s shirt, and those holes quickly started to leak, running down the front of his stomach.
“No!” I shouted as I gripped his shoulder. This wasn’t possible. This was Luc. He couldn’t be shot. “No.”
That word didn’t change reality. Luc—oh God—Luc had been shot. Three times. Horror gripped me with icy talons.
I can’t do this without him.
The voice that entered my thoughts sounded like mine but wasn’t and carried a heaviness that felt like years in the making.
Panic exploded as Luc rolled onto his back, eyes screwed tightly shut and lips thinned. The glow of the Source flickered around his arm and then went out as the veins under his eyes filled with brilliant white light, becoming visible under the skin. Those holes—those wounds—seemed to be spreading. I placed my hands over them, trying to staunch the flow of … reddish-blue blood.
“Luc,” I whispered. He was powerful. He was a freaking superhuman, but he had been shot in the chest three times, and he had a heart in that wrecked chest. I’d felt it beating, and one of the holes—oh God—
I cut those thoughts off.
Luc was going to be okay. He had to, because I could not lose him. Not like this. Not ever again—
The woman rolled off the bed onto the other side. My wide gaze swung around the room, spotting the gun lying a few feet in front of me.
Scrambling forward on my knees, I snatched the gun up as the woman rose, swaying unsteadily. The metal pressed into my palm as I leaped to my feet and I got my first real good look at her. She was older, with dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. I’d never seen April’s mom. This woman didn’t look like her, except for the ghoulish red lips, but who else could it be? One hand was pressed into her shoulder. Blood poured down her arm.
She screamed, rushing me, and I …
Instinct roared to the surface, taking over. My brain clicked off as I leveled the gun and pulled the trigger. I didn’t hear the crack of the gun firing, but the bullet struck true. The woman jerked backward, arms going limp as she fell onto the bed, sliding about an inch or so before stopping. Her chest didn’t move. Her eyes were open, wide and unseeing. Her forehead …
A haze of familiarity crept along the edges of my thoughts, just out of reach of me grasping it and making sense of it. There was this sense of being here before—having done this before? That couldn’t be right, though. I’d never even held a gun before.
I sure as hell had never shot anyone before, but a voice whispered at the edge of my subconscious. You pick up a gun, you aim to kill. Not to wound. To kill. That voice … it was familiar …
Slowly, I lowered the gun.
“Evie,” Luc groaned, and I jerked as his pained voice snapped me into action.
“Luc!” Whipping around, I dropped to the floor beside him, placing the gun on the floor next to me. I reached for him, pulling up his shirt. A slice of panic cut through me as I saw the three wounds. One on the left side of his chest, entirely too close to where his heart was. One on the right. Another just below. Blood trailed down his stomach, glimmering blue in the light.
His eyes were open, those pupils a brilliant white as he lifted his head off the floor. “This was … my favorite shirt.”
“What?” I laughed, but it came out as a strangled sob. I touched his forehead, brushing his hair back and leaving a smudge of blood behind—his blood. “It’s just a stupid shirt, Luc. You’re bleeding badly. You’ve been—”
“Poked full of holes. I know.”
“Tell me what I need to do,” I begged, because I knew it wasn’t like I could call 911. “Because this can’t be good.”
“Get my phone out of my pocket. The right one. It’ll be unlocked. And call Grayson. It’s not that bad, so he can fix this.”
“Not that bad? You have three bullet holes in your chest!” I shouted at him as I reached into his right pocket, pulling out his phone and quickly finding Grayson’s number.
The Luxen answered on the first ring. “Yo.”
“Luc’s been shot,” I said.
“So? Wouldn’t be the first time.”
Wouldn’t be the first time? What? My gaze swung to Luc’s pale face. “He’s been shot multiple times in the chest, you asshole!”