Fuck. Of all the things that could have happened, Elliot Slater guessing my real identity had not been at the top of my list. Neither was the way the truth energized him.
Slater let out a loud roar and threw himself at me. This time I couldn't avoid him. The giant slammed me to the carpet and started punching me over and over and over again, just the way that I'd feared he would. He peppered my face and chest with blows, never slowing his cadence or losing his rhythm. Punch-punch-punch. Every sharp blow threatened to break through my hardened skin. My head already rang from his previous punches, and it took every thing I had to focus on my Stone power to keep myself from being beaten to death. I had no doubt that the giant could keep his promise to Finn. He could hit me for hours without tiring.
In desperation, I threw my hand to one side and reached for my Ice magic. A jagged knife formed in my palm, and I snapped my hand up, determined to drive the weapon into Slater's eye or neck or whatever the hell I could reach. But the giant saw the motion out of the corner of his eye. Once again, his quickness saved him. He grabbed my hand, stopping the forward motion, and glanced at the crude weapon that I had clenched between my fingers.
"An Ice knife. Cute," he said.
Then the bastard snapped my wrist.
It felt like someone had taken a hammer to my bones. I screamed with pain and fury. My control was slipping, and now it was only a matter of time before the giant killed me. But mainly, I screamed because Finn would die along with me. Because I'd brought my foster brother along for backup, and I'd failed miserably to protect him.
Elliot Slater drew back and smiled down at me. "Time to die, bitch-"
BOOM!
Something slammed into Slater's chest and stomach, rocking him back. Blood sprayed onto my chest and face, and the acrid smell of gunpowder filled the air.
BOOM!
Another sharp retort spat out, knocking Slater back and off me. Cradling my broken wrist, I immediately scooted away from the giant, who pulled himself up onto a silver-colored sofa. My head snapped around, looking for my mysterious benefactor.
Roslyn Phillips stood in the middle of the living room, a large shotgun cradled in her hands. The vamp popped two more red shells into the gun and raised it up. I didn't know where the hell she'd gotten the weapon or why she'd come back here when I'd told her to leave, but I was glad she had. Because the vamp had just saved my life.
Elliot Slater just looked at her in disbelief.
"What the f**k are you doing?" he snarled. "You're supposed to be upstairs, bitch."
"Sorry," Roslyn replied. "Gin was nice enough to arrange a change of scenery for me."
While Slater was distracted, I got to my feet and picked up one of Owen's swords. The pain from my many injuries threatened to overwhelm me, but I ground my teeth together and pushed the hot, searing sensations down into the pit of my stomach. I'd deal with the agony later. Right now, I had Roslyn to think about.
I moved to stand beside the other woman. The vamp gave me a curt nod, but she never took her eyes off Elliot Slater.
The giant's gaze flicked from Roslyn to me. His chest looked like hamburger meat-raw, uneven, bloody. A steady torrent of blood gushed from his wounds, not enough to kill him, but more than enough to weaken him. Roslyn was a better shot than I'd realized. Then again, it was hard to miss with a shotgun. Still, I wasn't going to complain. Because I would have been dead by now if not for the vampire.
Slater knew the score just as well as I did, so he changed tactics. "Come on, baby," Slater crooned to Roslyn. "Why are you doing this? I was just trying to teach you a lesson earlier. You know how much I care about you."
"Yeah," Roslyn spat out. "I know exactly how much you care about me, Elliot. The same way you cared about those other women you told me about tonight-all the other ones that you brought up here and raped and killed when you got tired of them."
Slater's chalky face tightened, and his hazel eyes narrowed with rage. "And you're just another notch on my belt, bitch. You really think you're going to get away with this? Mab Monroe will hunt you down and burn you to a crisp. You'll all die for this. Put down the gun, Roslyn, and I'll spare you. I'll tell Mab that you were just trying to help me. She'll believe me. She trusts me. If you don't, you know what will happen. Mab will come after you, and then after that sweet little niece and sister you love so much. Xavier too. You'll all be dead and burned and gone. Charred to f**king ashes by Mab."
Roslyn just stared at the giant, an unreadable expression on her face. I stood beside her, but I didn't say anything. This was the vamp's fight now. She had to stand up to Elliot Slater now, or what had happened these last few days would haunt her the rest of her life. More so, anyway, than it already would. Roslyn swayed side to side, and the shotgun shook in her trembling hands. For a moment, I thought that she was lost. That Slater had won this final round of cruel torture.
But then, Roslyn's face hardened underneath the blood and bruises, and a cold, terrible light filled her dark eyes. Her back straightened, her fingers tightened on the shotgun, and once again, I saw a glimmer of the hard-assed vampire that I remembered. The one who'd bared her fangs at me when I'd once dared to threaten her niece.
"Maybe I won't get away with it," Roslyn snarled. "But at least I'll have the satisfaction of knowing that you're dead. Go to hell, Elliot."
Roslyn stepped forward and fired the gun.
BOOM! BOOM!
Elliot Slater's head exploded in a mass of blood and brains and bone. The giant twitched once, fell to the floor, and was still.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Roslyn just stood there, staring down at what had been Elliot Slater's melon-size head. I put my hand on the smoking gun and slowly lowered it.
"It's over, Roslyn," I said in a soft voice. "He's dead now. You killed the bastard. You did it. You took care of him-forever. He's never going to bother you again. Never. Do you understand me?"
After a moment, Roslyn pulled her gaze away from the dead giant and looked up at me. Tears filled her eyes, and her hands started shaking once more. I pulled the gun out of her hands, let it fall to the floor, and gingerly, slowly, carefully, put my arms around her, not sure if I should hold her, touch her. Not sure how I could help her through this, but determined to try nonetheless. The vamp sobbed and screamed and pounded her fists against my back. I let her, just let her get it all out. All the pain and fear and misery. All the rage and helplessness and terror. All the relief and horror and sorrow.
I don't know how long we stood there, Roslyn screaming and crying, me just holding her. But eventually, her sobs quieted, and the vamp drew away from me.