Unmade (Unborn #4) - Amber Lynn Natusch Page 0,47
not PC.”
“She has healed someone outside of the PC before,” Trey said, drawing my attention. My quiet, compliant brother had apparently decided to take a stand against his leader in his own way; or perhaps he just wanted to point out the lie in Sean’s words. Either way, I planned to use that lie in my favor.
“Heal him,” I said, grabbing the Healer’s arm to drag her over. Sean’s hand clamped down on mine to stop me.
“I love you, Khara, and I know you’re hurting right now, but I cannot allow this. She cannot save him…”
I wrenched my hand from his grip and turned back to Oz, who had gone deathly pale while I had fought with my twin. With a gentle touch, I brushed his damp hair from his forehead.
“You cannot leave just yet.”
“Not my choice…”
“Do I no longer entertain you?” I asked, voice soft and breaking.
“No,” he said with a laugh that pained him greatly. “You’re entertaining as fuck. But your brother is a dick, and he can’t seem to let go of the past, so it looks like you’re on your own now, new girl.”
I could see through his bravado to the pain hidden in the depths of his eyes.
“I am afraid I cannot allow that,” I said, pressing my forehead to his, “because you and I—we have an understanding, you see. You are the thorn in my side I cannot pull free, and I am the one who gives you purpose—reminds you of who you once were so you do not fall freely into the darkness. Splitting us apart is just not in the cards, as Kierson says…”
Oz grunted in pain as his hand drifted up to cup my cheek.
“My purpose has been fulfilled. Yours, however, has not.” His grip went weak against me, and it startled me into action. If Sean would not allow the Healer to help Oz, then I would force his hand.
I stood to face my brother, a plan brewing in my mind. “You will not help him because he is not PC?” I asked, my voice low and menacing and a weapon all its own. “Because you have disdain for who and what he is?” My wings stretched wide and I reached behind me to snatch an obsidian feather from the bottom edge. It sliced through my palm as I pulled it free, and I held it tight as it tore through tendon and bone. I wrapped my free hand around the one holding the blade to support it. “Then let us see how you handle this.”
Sean steadied himself for a strike I never intended to land. Instead, I turned that blade toward my gut and buried it so deep that my hands dipped inside my stomach, the soft, warm feeling strange against my skin. The cries of Sean, Trey, and the Healer echoed around us as I jerked the obsidian up through my abdomen until it met bone, slicing several ribs until it hit its intended destination.
My heart.
18
A swirling darkness overtook me and I fell to my knees, the vision of Oz’s hand reaching for me blurring, then fading. I could barely make out Sean’s silhouette through that darkness, hovering over me with someone small at his side. Then I felt a fire similar to the Dragon’s tear through me as tiny hands pressed against my belly and someone ripped the weapon from my heart.
The fire soon turned to soothing warmth, and the world grew brighter around me. Clearer. Within seconds, my wound stopped pouring blood, and the skin knit itself together again. The Healer sat back on her heels and stared at me as Sean loomed over her, scowling.
“How could you be so—”
“Reckless?” I asked, cutting him off. “I think you of all people should understand the answer to that question. It is the one emotion that trumps all.”
Without another word, I crawled to Oz’s side. His eyes had closed, and his breathing was weak and shallow. His hand was outstretched on the ground as if to reach for me—to stop me from doing what had already been done and undone.
“Hold on just a little longer,” I said, pressing my hands to his chest. “I learned a new trick just now—I think you might like to see it.” A strange magic unlike any I had ever possessed coursed through me, mixing with Oz’s own to create a wave of healing I could not fathom. I watched as his bleeding slowed, and with a sharp yank, I freed the obsidian