"Don't move a single inch, or I swear to god, I will blow your brains out."

I didn't move. I believed her.

My eyes roamed upwards, away from the dead senator in front of me. I stared at the girl. A girl with an iron will and wolf-brown eyes. Night-black hair, amber skin, and a face carved from stone.

If she hadn't been holding a gun to my head, I would've called her ethereal. Like a vengeful goddess come to dish out her own version of justice.

"Who are you?"

The question sat in the air, unanswered.

"I said, who the hell are you?" she repeated, somehow maintaining a semblance of calm. Her words held such conviction that I knew the consequences of not answering.

"Frey," I lied, thinking of the first name that popped into my head. It was a woman I'd met today at the market. The one working at the spice booth.

"Right," the girl replied, obviously not believing it. I guess the fact that I was completely unbothered by her gun made me seem like a liar.

I needed an out. I could try pulling my bow off my back and shooting her, but I had a feeling she'd get a shot off first. She was too close for me to dodge a bullet point blank. And I had no doubts she'd do it – she looked like someone who'd seen death and had walked away, chin up.

I couldn't help being a bit confused. She wasn't wearing the outfit of a guard...she wasn't wearing very expensive clothes at all. She wore simple leather pants and a beige blouse – not the clothes of someone with rooms full of wealth.

"Why are you here?" the girl spat at me. She looked like she was trying to contain barely restrained anger. Maybe she was related to Sardon? But no...Sardon would've at least bought her something nicer to wear.

I didn't answer. She wouldn't believe the lies I'd give anyway.

Which brought me to my next issue: she probably was going to kill me.

Why wouldn't she? She had no way of proving I was telling the truth therefore I was no use alive. I might as well be dead.

Pain lanced through my skull as her gun slammed into my head, knocking me to the ground.

I stared at the marble floor, not moving an inch. Not if it gave her an excuse to pull the trigger before I could figure a way out. I could feel blood welling up on the side of my head where she'd struck.

I could try taking out my knife...she likely wasn't aware I had one. But again, it'd be a risk. Again, she could shoot faster.

But if I was going to die anyway...

I carefully reached into my jacket, keeping my movements out of her view.

"Why are you here? What business do you have?" she shouted, allowing that anger to leach into her words.

My hand gripped around the handle of the dagger. Any second now she'd shoot. I had to act. And I had to trust in my own abilities.

Maybe I didn't have as much practice with the dagger, but I had enough. Surprise was my true weapon.

"You have three seconds before I give the hell up and shoot you. One..."

I sucked in another sharp breath.

"Two..."

My fingers tightened around the dagger. Now.

"Thr—"

I froze.

"Stop! June, stop," came a shout from the hallway. My muscles tensed up. What on Earth? Who else was here?

Things were weird enough as they were.

June, to my shock, had actually listened. She hadn't pulled the trigger. Hadn't done anything but continued to stare down at me with ferocious intensity.

"June. You know what Ara said."

The girl – June – kept staring as if she hadn't heard the person who now stepped into the living room. He was probably around the same age as June...the same age as me. Maybe slightly older. He wore dark cargo pants and a black leather jacket. He held no gun, no visible weapon. Wasn't he at least a bit concerned he came to a gunfight with...literally nothing?

But June didn't seem the tiniest bit concerned for him. "Erin, I don't understand why it's your concern."

Erin just sighed in defeat. "It's my concern because I'll be the one Ara yells at if we leave an extra body here."

June remained stubbornly with her gun to me. But the fact that she hadn't shot me yet...

"Ara would understand."

"No, she wouldn't. And you know it."

"She shot Sardon."

"And she could be useful."

June shook her head, scoffing at that. "We have enough useful people—"

"And we have plenty who are dead."

June froze up and shot a look towards Erin, her eyes filled with more fury, somehow, than what'd been directed at me.

That was all I needed.

I leaped into action, thrusting my dagger upwards towards June, aiming straight for the heart. I knew my aim was true. I knew it should've landed.

But it didn't.

Instead, my dagger was knocked to the marble floor before I could blink. My hand felt like it was on fire – she'd managed to whip her gun across my wrist just before I could reach her chest. I stared empty-handed, eyes wide, as she pulled the trigger.

And missed. Intentionally missed. Aimed right at the ground, right next to my knee. The noise so loud, my eardrums nearly popped. She didn't even flinch.

Which meant she wasn't going to kill me.

I jumped on her before she could shoot again. I tackled her to the marble ground and grabbed fistfuls of her hair, shoving her head hard enough into the ground that I heard a loud crack.

And then, I was being dragged off her, hands so powerful that no matter how much I bucked and thrashed, I couldn't shake the person. In my mind, I'd begun to panic. Whatever glass box of no emotion I'd locked myself in shattered to pieces as panic every bit of me.

Panic was my greatest enemy.

In my right mind, I should've been able to take Erin down, who I knew had come to June's rescue. But it was something about the situation. About killing five people and then staring down a gun that was a bit too much for my fragile mental state.

All I could manage was a roar that scraped from my throat, as I was dragged across the floor and a heavy weight fell on top of my mid-section.

And then I wasn't breathing. Erin's hands were wrapped about my throat as I thrashed and thrashed and...

Black spots danced in my vision. Was he going to kill me? Was this the end?

"Don't worry. You'll wake up...eventually," he murmured, as if answering my question.

But everything was getting too dark. My tongue was too heavy. And then...