Suddenly, the assassin flew into the air, hovering. She threw the rock.
It hit the creature’s wing, hitting a small bone. She heard it snap. With a screech, it crashed over the side of the cliff.
“Yes! Sabin—” She spun and froze.
He was collapsed on the ground, not moving. The other assassin was nearby, ready and waiting.
Her chest locked. “Sabin? Sabin, get up!”
He didn’t move.
The assassin advanced.
Finley lifted her chin. Then with a cry, she charged. She was so damn tired of being afraid. She lowered her head and tackled the assassin, and they hit the dirt together.
“Why won’t you just leave us alone?” She smacked her elbow into its head. “I won’t be your damn prey anymore.”
It threw her off and rose into the air.
She hit the ground with an oof and rolled. She almost fell into a sunken pool nearby.
She turned, and saw the assassin looking at the spire.
It must be searching for the beacon. No, you don’t, asshole.
“Look over here, you ugly bug.”
Those multifaceted eyes turned her way.
“I’m going to find a way to kill you,” Finley said.
It let out a screech.
“But first, you get away from my man.”
The assassin flew at her. She ducked, and one of its claws tangled in her hair.
Ow. She pulled free, tearing hair loose as she did.
She had to get to Sabin.
“Sabin.” She slid to her knees beside him. “Sabin.”
He groaned. He was alive, thank God.
She gripped his shoulder. “We have a Kantos assassin to kill, and soldiers incoming.”
He pushed up onto his knees. He was so shaky, his face ghost white.
The assassin hovered nearby, watching them steadily.
“You get to the stairs,” Sabin ground out.
“No.”
He shook his head. “Despite your stubbornness, I’m falling in love with you, Finley.”
Oh, God. “Sabin…” Her chest was tight; she couldn’t breathe.
She helped him up and together they faced the assassin.
“I will keep you safe.” He squeezed her hand. “It’s my duty, my honor.” Jaw tight, Sabin rushed toward the assassin.
No. Finley sucked in a breath. He launched himself at the alien.
He launched up, grabbed the assassin’s scaly feet and yanked it to the ground. Then assassin and warrior attacked each other.
It was a vicious fight, both of them taking blows.
Finley bit her lip. She had to find a way to help him.
Then Sabin leaped onto the assassin. He gripped its flapping wings.
His gaze met hers. “Be safe, Finley. Be strong.”
With a hard shove, he knocked the assassin off its feet. Together, they fell over the cliff edge. Sabin dropped, taking the assassin with him. He kept its wings from flaring out.
No! Finley couldn’t breathe. She stared at the empty space where Sabin had been. The lizard turned in agitated circles on her shoulder. She raced to the edge and looked down.
The assassin and Sabin lay crumpled on the ground below.
So far down.
Tears welled in her eyes and her throat closed.
“Sabin.” She ran for the stairs.
Sabin couldn’t move.
With a groan, he lifted his head. His body was a massive throb of agony. He was lying on a flat, stone area ringed by fountains and narrow channels of water.
He was bleeding; he smelled it, felt it. The life was flowing out of him.
He rolled and bit back a groan. He panted through the pain as his vision swam. He sucked in air. His legs wouldn’t move.
Where was Finley? She had to be okay. The Rengard would come, and she’d be safe.
He heard a low noise and glanced over. The crumpled assassin lay nearby, its legs and wings broken from the fall.
Painfully, Sabin dragged himself closer. The assassin saw him, and tried to slash out with its claws.
Sabin grabbed the Kantos and wrestled it. He felt claws rake his side. He got the assassin in a chokehold and then pulled back with all his strength.
As the Kantos died, it thrashed, but Sabin held on.
Then the alien slumped.
Panting, Sabin rolled onto his back. His gaze was blurry, but he could make out the blue sky and the spire on the mountain above.
Then he heard running footsteps.
Finley’s face appeared in front of his.
“God. Sabin.” She cupped his face.
He saw the lizard, now a brilliant purple, dart across her shoulders.
Her face twisted. “Don’t move.”
He drew in a breath and heard it rattle. “Fin-ley.”
She bit her lip, tears running down her cheeks. “You’re going to be okay.”
They both knew that was a lie. He was dying. He could feel his body shutting down.
“Love…you.”
She closed her eyes and leaned over him, pressing her forehead to his. “I love you, too. I’m not going to let you leave me. You think I’m perfect. You love me. I need you, Sabin.”
The lizard leaped onto his chest and they ignored it.
“You’re…strong,” he said.
“Please, Sabin.”
There was noise nearby and her head jerked up.
The lizard squeaked and dived into Finley’s hair.
“Finley?” Sabin said.
The color drained from her face. “Bugs. A whole group of them.” She swallowed. “They’re smallish, cat-sized, with sharp teeth.”
Sabin howled inside. He couldn’t protect her. He tried to sit up.
“No.” She pressed a hand to his chest. She followed it with a light kiss. “I’m going to protect you, this time.”
He could see she was afraid, but she was trying to hide it.
“Smart,” he said. “Use…that brain of yours.”
Finley tried not to panic. Seeing Sabin so hurt was bad enough, but seeing those bugs coming was really bad.
“Think, Finley, think.”
Her lizard friend was agitated, and it leaped to the ground. He moved to the first channel of water, squeaked, and darted back toward her. It was very agitated. Next, it moved over to a fountain. It made frantic moves again and Finley shifted closer. She smelled something.
She knelt, one eye on the hovering bugs. The water had a shimmering gleam to it.
She frowned and touched it. It was sticky. She sniffed it.
It wasn’t water. It was some sort of oil. She looked at the connected fountains and channels. They were all filled with oil.
Her thoughts turned. The fountains and channels snaked all around. Sabin was lying in the center of a circular channel.
Bugs hated fire.
She spun. Damn, she had no way to light the oil. The bugs moved closer, and now, she heard a buzzing in the air. She glanced over and saw Kantos soldiers coming closer, as well.
Every muscle in her stomach tied into knots.
Sabin groaned. Dammit, she would protect the man she loved.
She saw some rocks that had clearly fallen from the cliff. She snatched up two of them. She’d fight for the people who’d died here, as well as for her and Sabin’s survival.
“You will not be forgotten,” she whispered furiously.
She grabbed the rocks and leaned over the oil. She struck them together.