Rogue Descendant (Nikki Glass) - By Jenna Black Page 0,88
of death. I tried to focus on the sensation of breath going in and out of my lungs, proving to myself that I wasn’t dead.
I didn’t really think about what I did next, just acted out of pure instinct. I knew Anderson was going to lunge at Emma, or at least at Emma’s last known position. Now that he’d condemned her, he wasn’t going to risk letting her get away.
I stepped into what I calculated would be Anderson’s path, and sure enough, he plowed into me. We both went down in a tangle of limbs. I hoped he would think my interference was nothing more than an accident. Having him mad at me in his current state would be a bad, bad thing.
Emma’s most immediate threat was no doubt Mark, who’d been between her and the door, but I thought her chances of escape would be slightly higher if I delayed Anderson some more. He tried to get up, and I “accidentally” swept his legs out from under him as I rolled to my feet.
“Sorry!” I said as he went down again, knowing I’d given Emma as much time as I could afford to. If I tripped Anderson up a third time, there was zero chance he would think it was an accident.
Emma gave a high-pitched shriek that practically shattered my eardrums. There was a thud, and then the light reappeared, blinding after the total darkness. I blinked a couple of times to clear my vision.
Emma had made it about two steps into the hall before Mark had caught her in a tackle. She was flailing wildly and screaming as Mark hauled her to her feet and dragged her back into the library.
A very sane and sensible side of my brain told me there was nothing I could do and that I should stay out of it. Emma was a danger, to me, to Anderson, to the rest of his Liberi, and even to my loved ones. Because of her madness, I couldn’t say I felt she deserved to die, but I could say her death would not be unjust. I could even say I wouldn’t be unhappy if she were dead. But I’d drawn my line in the sand when I’d refused to hunt Konstantin for Anderson. I could not condone killing someone for revenge, and that was all that this would be.
Knowing I would be fighting one hell of an uphill battle, I held my chin high and got between Anderson and Emma yet again.
TWENTY
“Can we talk about this a bit?” I asked. I hated how tentative I sounded, but Anderson was really freaking me out. I almost liked the emotionless machine he’d been last night better, though I supposed it was a good thing he’d let some of that out considering the destruction in the clearing.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” Anderson said, fixing me with his laserlike stare. “She broke the treaty. And she’s proven she can’t be trusted.”
“Anderson, please,” she begged, sobbing. “Please believe me! I didn’t do it!”
Anderson might as well have been struck deaf for all the attention he paid her.
“But I’m the injured party here,” I argued. “And I don’t think she needs to die.”
“Your opinion is duly noted.”
And ignored, obviously. I tried to think up some argument that Anderson might listen to, but Cyrus spoke up before I could.
“Actually, Nikki, you’re not the injured party here. I am. I gave her a direct order to leave you alone, and she disobeyed me. I can’t allow that.”
For the first time since I’d met him, there was cold steel in Cyrus’s voice. He’d dropped the friendly smile, and there was a predatory sharpness in his eyes. Usually, the only resemblance I saw between him and his father was in their coloring, but the look on his face now suggested they might be more alike than I’d guessed.
Emma seemed to realize there was no reaching Anderson, so she switched her focus to Cyrus.
“I didn’t disobey you! I swear to you, I’m being framed. That bitch probably set the whole thing up to try to get me out of the way.”
My jaw dropped open. Even now, when I was the only one in the room trying to save her life, Emma was trying to stick it to me. If I’d had any sense, I would have washed my hands of her right there and then. Surely there was a straw that broke the camel’s back somewhere in her ravings.