Uneasy Alliances

The silence was absolute.

Lucius fell backward, a clean hole in the center of his forehead. He hit the floor with a sound that was too loud in the sudden quiet of the room.

His eyes were still open, frozen in a moment of surprised calculation.

The vial of antidote sat on the table.

I dropped the railgun. It clattered to the floor, useless now.

I grabbed the vial.

One dose.

I looked at Elena. Her breath was shallow, rasping. Her skin was the color of old paper.

I looked at Dante. He was slumped in the chair, the neural inhibitor still blinking its steady, rhythmic pulse. He was unconscious, his head lolling to the side.

"Aria," Elena whispered.

I turned to her. Her eyes were open, unfocused.

"Save him," she said.

"Elena, no."

"Save him," she repeated, her voice gaining a desperate strength. "He came for me. He tried to get me out."

"I can't let you die," I said, tears blurring my vision. "You're my sister."

"And he's your future," she said. She reached out, her hand trembling, and touched my cheek. "I'm already gone, Aria. I've been gone for three years. Don't let them take him too."

I looked at Dante.

I remembered the video Felix had shown me. The hooded figure planting the charges.

"He saved us," Felix had said. "He knew."

Dante had walked into the lion's den alone. He had let Lucius poison him, just for a chance to get me the key.

And Elena... Elena had been a prisoner. A ghost.

I uncorked the vial.

I walked over to Dante.

"I'm sorry," I whispered to my sister.

"Don't be," she said. She closed her eyes. A small, peaceful smile touched her lips.

I injected the antidote into Dante's arm.

His body seized. He gasped, his eyes flying open.

He looked at me, confusion and pain warring in his gaze.

Then he looked at the bed. At Elena.

"No," he rasped. "Aria, no."

"She made me choose," I said, my voice breaking.

Dante tried to stand, but his legs gave out. I caught him.

"We have to go," I said. "Lucius's guards will be here any second."

"We can't leave her," Dante said.

"She's gone, Dante."

I looked at the monitor. The heart rate line was flat.

Elena was dead. For real this time.

We stumbled out into the hallway. The hospital was waking up. Alarms were blaring.

"The roof," Dante said. "There's a chopper. Lucius's private transport."

We fought our way up the stairs. My railgun was empty, but Dante had taken a pistol from Lucius's body. We moved as a single unit, a two-headed beast of grief and rage.

We burst onto the roof. The helicopter was waiting, blades spinning. The pilot looked surprised to see us.

Dante didn't hesitate. He shot the pilot in the leg. The man fell out of the cockpit, screaming.

We climbed in. Dante took the controls.

"Can you fly this?" I asked.

"I can fly anything," he said, his hands flying over the instruments.

We lifted off, the city shrinking below us.

I looked down at San Lazaro. At the room where my sister lay.

"I'll come back for her," I whispered. "I promise."

Dante reached over and took my hand. His grip was tight, desperate.

"We'll come back for everything," he said.

We flew north, toward the mountains. Toward the safe house.

But as the adrenaline faded, a new feeling settled in my chest. A cold, heavy stone.

I had chosen. I had saved the man I loved.

But I had paid for his life with my sister's.

And somewhere in the darkness, the organization was regrouping. Lucius was dead, but the Council remained.

And they would want their key back.

I touched the drive in my pocket.

Let them come.

I wasn't running anymore.

I was hunting.