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Coil of Worlds
Chapter 63: Finishing Business

Chapter 63: Finishing Business

Later that night, after the majority of the students were asleep in the residence hall, Lara and Skye hid behind a bush, waiting for the police officer to finish his sweep around the building. When the officer’s footsteps faded away to nothing, Lara scurried to the side door and swiped Becky’s card, unlocking it. When the lock quietly clicked, Skye pulled the door open. Though she didn’t see anyone through the glass door, she was glad the door swung open without a sound.

Skye suddenly lifted his hand, cautioning her from stepping forward. She waited, not breathing, straining her ears to hear any footsteps in the stairwell. The short wait gave her time to question their plan’s success. She could feel her blood coursing faster through her limbs, warming her fingers and toes to a fevered pitch. When Skye finally jerked his head toward the stairs, Lara almost jumped in reaction. She was primed for something—anything, good or bad.

As planned, she took the lead. Her sword slapped against her leg once before she reached down to press it against her. Lara frowned in concentration, fearing she was making too much noise. Skye had drilled into her that silence was imperative for their success tonight.

When they reached her floor, Skye cracked the door open and peered through the sliver of space. Lara’s mind raced with each move they needed to take. Standing in the hall for any period of time was suicide.

Uh oh.

Her fingers shook as she opened her purse. The keys jingled when she pulled them out, making Skye flick her a displeased glance. When she held up the keys in explanation, he gave a single nod of approval.

Holding her breath, they made it to their destination without any mishaps. She stuck the key into the lock and turned it. Earlier, Becky had assured her the police had finished their investigation yesterday morning. The university had paid for the cleaners to come in as soon as the police were finished. Until then, the entire floor had avoided this side of the dorm. Even if the rooms were clean, Lara didn’t blame Becky a bit for staying somewhere else.

Skye propelled her into the room with a firm hand and shut the door behind them, encasing them in darkness. She took a shaky breath. After her eyes adjusted, Lara saw a single thread of moonlight shining through the broken slat on the window. From habit, Lara reached for the switch, but stopped from flipping it in the nick of time. Skye had expressly forbidden any lights while they were here.

Lara hurried into her bedroom and crawled onto the bed, reaching for the coil. She lifted it off the bare nail and stuck it into her purse.

It struck her, then, that her bedroom had been straightened by someone. As she returned to stand in front of Skye, she wondered how long the university would wait before requesting her parents remove her belongings from the room. How long would her parents keep her things? They would have to deal with canceling her attendance at the university.

God, she was thinking like she was dead, too.

How morbid.

“Do you have the coil?” Skye asked in a low whisper that filled the still room. In the darkness, she fumbled with the bag and pulled out the fragile object. She held it aloft by slipping her fingers into the coil’s twists and turns, then rotated her hand around so Skye could see all of it. Without the light on, he wouldn’t catch the luminescent colors diffusing the entire coil. At his nod, she stored it away, safe in the confines of her bag. They had to get out of there.

As if Skye heard her, he opened the door, and they both heard the soft ding of the elevator. She put her ear to the door, trying to decipher the sounds from the other side. A girl’s giggle and a drunken male voice filled the hallway for a few minutes, then another door shut. The hallway fell quiet. Lara took her first full breath of air when they reentered the stairwell.

Amazingly, the first part of their plan was complete. The next was far more dangerous.

After a full minute of looking around the grounds through the glass door, they left the residence hall without a backward glance. It was almost too easy, making her wonder what the rest of the night held.

Lara led Skye toward the other side of the street, away from campus where the cheerfully lit buildings gave way to tall, dark, and imposing structures. The presence of cars and apartments dwindled, giving way to business properties. She followed Skye as he prowled deeper into the sleepy streets. Trash blew across the sidewalks. The few faceless people they met studiously ignored them, going about their own business.

Skye scanned the buildings with a practiced eye, looking for buildings that would draw the assassin. The longer they walked around, the more edgy Lara became. She kept her hand on the hilt of her sword, though the solid feel provided her cold comfort.

After thirty minutes of following Skye from one side of the street to the other, it dawned on her Skye distanced himself from the streetlights on purpose, merging with the surrounding shadows with ease. It was basic common sense.

The cops were out in force tonight. In the space of an hour, Lara counted five patrol cars. They escaped the notice of two of the cars by hiding with only seconds to spare. Thank God Skye’s vision was better than hers.

Getting back up from her hiding spot, she eyed Skye, taking in his wide shoulders and sure gait. Lara tried to suppress the chill that went up and down her arms and legs. Skye was in full predator mode—a hunter.

No, that wasn’t quite right. The hunter. He stalked the streets, confident in his ability to find the assassin. Even here on Earth, he believed he could find the man. Earlier, Skye had explained his thinking in simple terms. The assassin and Skye were from the same world. This planet made no sense to either of them, so Skye would look for places he himself would use.

In the wake of his confidence, Lara faltered, not sure how she could help him find the Malirran. With a jolt, Lara realized she was jealous of his confidence, his assuredness. Skye was convinced he’d find the Malirran. She wasn’t. The police couldn’t find him, and they had their forensics as well as the manpower.

Once the moon slowly crossed to the other side of the sky, Lara lost hope. The police were on their own after tonight. Now that they had the coil, they were traveling to Aradun without delay. She disliked the idea of leaving the Malirran behind, but she was confident the officers would eventually find and arrest him, though they were better off killing the man. It turned her stomach to know she was responsible for letting loose a cannibal in her hometown. The coil’s idiosyncrasies endangered everyone around her. Her thoughts swam in lazy circles as she trailed behind Skye’s hulking form.

In front of her, Skye became a living, breathing statue. Mirroring him, Lara stopped a yard behind him. She kept her eyes trained on her friend, ready to run and hide from the police at his command.

A muffled scream reached her ears, echoing off the bare walls around them. Although faint, the scream held a raw presence that forced one to tune in. Her instincts took over, and Lara had to fight not to flee in the opposite direction. Her heart hammered in her chest. Her hand fisted her sword. She kept her gaze trained on Skye, awaiting his signal.

When a second, muffled scream floated down to her, sounding distinctively like a woman, her eyes widened in horror.

Skye tilted his head back and stared up at the structures towering above them. Following his gaze, she counted the number of floors in each of the buildings around them. Every single one was at least several stories tall.

When a third scream rent the air, Skye took off, flowing across the street, unsheathing his sword in a smooth, practiced move. She ran after him, clumsily drawing her weapon with a soft clang of steel.

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They located the stairway behind the gutted building. The closer Lara came to the Malirran’s hideout, the louder the cries became. Two floors up, she could no longer block out the sounds of intense pain and suffering. Skye stopped climbing when they reached the fourth floor, and she saw for herself the latch was broken. Her entire body trembled, hearing the woman’s convulsive sobs through the door. They had to save her.

She moved to open the door at the same time Skye withdrew the knife from the back of his waistband. Lara waited with bated breath for his nod, realizing he delayed his entry for a particularly long, drawn-out wail. They had one chance.

Skye nodded when the woman’s piercing cry reached them. With dread she threw open the door and followed Skye into the building. Across the room, separated by several columns of support beams, the Malirran kneeled. He looked up with a fevered glare and clambered to his feet, bringing his sword with him. Stunned at the sight laid out in front of her, Lara left Skye to stalk toward the man alone as he maneuvered the Malirran away from the woman.

Even in the cover of shadows that filled the large, empty space, it was obvious. The woman’s scream had been her last. They were too late. The dead woman’s eyes stared blindly up in horror, her fear and pain a frozen mask for everyone to see. She had suffered greatly before dying.

Lara shook at the futility of it all. Why kill a woman? For what? Hate and vengeance helped Lara forget her fear. She rolled her shoulders to loosen them and pressed closer, slowly circling around the fighting pair, waiting for the perfect strike. She gripped her sword with both hands, sliding forward a few more inches.

It soon became apparent the Malirran wasn’t well. Gone were the smooth techniques and quick reflexes. Only years of practice kept him alive. Skye pushed him backward, step by agonizing step, until the Malirran was a few feet from the wall. Lara didn’t see the weapon being thrown, but her friend’s pained grunt drew her attention. A small, black knife jutted out of Skye’s right shoulder. Although it wasn’t a killing blow, she could see that Skye was having difficulty holding and swinging his sword. It gained the Malirran time to take a couple of gulping breaths of air. The man wove back and forth, and he shuffled his feet to maintain his balance.

When Skye next attacked, he was unyielding—not giving the assassin time to rest, steadily wearing him down by keeping him on the move. Though she glimpsed a few techniques she’d practiced, others were new and far more advanced. Lara realized Skye’s swordsmanship was far more skilled than even she’d given him credit. She knew his skill was phenomenal, like the weapon was an extension of his own body. But seeing him use those skills against his opponent intimidated and awed her at the same time.

Skye’s face split into a fierce, toothy grin. Many might have thought he was having too good of a time. Having seen the grin before, she knew different. The warrior was now more aware of every twitch the Malirran made. In a last, lengthy clash of steel, the assassin’s weapon flew across the room. It landed against one of the columns with a resonant crash.

The man’s eyes glittered with despair, his chest heaving from exertion. His shirt, though black, was crusted with what could only be blood. His hands and chest were bloody from his latest kill. His very odor was offensive, the smell so strong she couldn’t immediately place the reeking scent. Another tentative sniff, and she realized he smelled of rotten meat left too long in the sun. Oh, God. It was the dried blood. His flushed cheeks told the true story. The man’s wounds had festered.

Lara couldn’t find it within herself to feel sympathy. Not for a rapist. And definitely not for a cannibal.

The man didn’t try to fight again. As she drew closer, she heard him command Skye, pleading in a cracked voice that was a shadow of his normal one, “Kill me. I’ve failed the great Goddess Semnac. I do not deserve to live. Me thinks my time has come.”

“So be it.” Skye swung his sword across the man’s vulnerable neck.

Lara scrambled away from the scene. Skye hadn’t beheaded the man, but it was close enough. She turned her head, looking the other direction. Her gaze landed on the dead woman’s face.

She squeezed her eyes shut. It didn’t help. The gouges and lesions on the woman’s body refused to leave her. Both her hands clenched around her weapon in desperation. Despite it all, Lara wanted to kill the man all over again.

She felt Skye’s presence when he moved to stand next to her. His deep voice carried his satisfaction in the newly seeded graveyard. “It is finished.”

His words echoed in her head until she made sense of them. He was right in a way. Another woman had died, but no one else was at risk of meeting such a horrific death. The man was dead, and rightfully by Skye’s hand.

It was a fitting end.

Her mind settled at last, no longer competing with itself from the unholy mix of guilt, vengeance, horror, and hatred. Skye leaned over and uncurled each, separate finger from her weapon. When her hands relinquished the sword, he slid it home at her side. He lifted both of her chilled hands and forced her to stare into his eyes. Some indefinable element welded them together, binding them in their victory. They stared at each other, and time stood still.

Recalling his wound, Lara was the first to break eye contact and glanced at his shoulder. Skye had already removed the knife, leaving the wound to bleed down his arm.

Squeezing his hands in silent thanks, she said, “We need to stop the bleeding. Hand me one of your knives.”

He shrugged, giving his wound a cursory look. “It’s not a deep wound. I can wrap it once we reach the Tal’Ai school.”

Lara glared at him and held out her hand for his knife. She wiggled her fingers in silent demand. He snorted but handed the weapon over without another word. She cut a strip off the bottom of her shirt, folded the material into several layers, and then pressed it into the wound. Other than a small wince, he didn’t portray any other discomfort. After a few minutes of holding it in place, she removed the cloth to see if it still bled. Relieved, she shoved the bandage into her back pocket.

She sent him a crooked smile. “It still needs to be cleaned when we get back. Who knows what was on that man’s blades. In the meantime, let’s get out of here and find another building that is, um, less gory.”

“It is time to return,” he agreed with a nod.

She was surprised when Skye retrieved one of her hands and hooked it over his left forearm, leading her away from the bodies littering the middle of the bloody floor. Wanting to see the police when they swarmed the building, Lara perused the buildings in the vicinity.

The only other empty building was a block away. Judging the amount of time it’d take to reach it, she placed the call to the police, telling them she heard what sounded like a fight in a building downtown. She gave the cross streets, then powered down the cell phone. She lurched into a jog. She didn’t want to get caught with a sword at her hip and two dead bodies in the building nearby.

They made it to the second story window right before four police cars swarmed the structure. The noise from the sirens bounced off the walls, adding chaos to the show.

“They’ll take care of the girl,” Lara murmured. She thought for a second before adding, “I wonder what the autopsy will find on the Malirran.”

“What do you mean?”

“You and I may look the same, but there is no way in this world—or yours—that we could possibly have the same genetic makeup. So I wonder what the labs will make of him.” She grinned at her own humor. “After all, you are both aliens.”

Skye frowned at her, though he didn’t seem upset. With no small amount of resignation, he said, “I do not understand a word you say.”

She stifled a laugh with her hand, afraid it might somehow carry to the growing crowd surrounding the other building. “I know.”

For a while, neither of them said anything, and her thoughts turned to her parents. Without trying to hide her wistfulness, she admitted, “I wish I could talk to my parents before we leave. I’ve no idea how long I’ll be gone this time.”

Skye sat up and turned his big body until he faced hers. He cocked his head, a quizzical expression on his face. “Why can’t you speak to your parents as you speak to Becky?”

She scowled and huffed, “Don’t tempt me.”

He reached out and grabbed her left shoulder. She looked up at him in surprise. Genuine sadness descended across his face. Lara searched his features, somehow knowing this moment was important for them both. There was a reason why, for the first time, he willingly showed vulnerability. She waited until he could at last push the words past his stiff lips.

“I know what losing family does to your soul. Without Eiren, it would have destroyed me. Do not let your family suffer needlessly.”

She reached up and clasped the arm still holding her, squeezing it a couple times before letting go. Lara felt tears threaten to fall. She tugged the phone back out and turned it on. When it lit up, she punched in the numbers before she could change her mind, nibbling on her lips. The phone rang for the fifth time, and no one answered.

She almost burst into tears when the message came on and the long beep ended. “Hi, Mom, Dad. I wanted to let you know I am alive and safe. The serial killer didn’t kill me. I’m sorry you thought I died since no one knew where I was. I only found out today the police thought I was dead.” She stopped and swallowed, and her mouth trembled. “I can’t explain now, but I hope in time I can tell you everything that’s happened. I just hope you won’t think I’ve gone crazy when I do. Know that I love you. I love you.”

She stared down at the phone for a long time after she ended the call. Losing the connection devastated her. She didn’t cry. Her pain was too intense for that.

Skye dragged her toward him, pulling her down until she was lying against him. She curled into him, trying to draw some small consolation from a friend. No one should ever have to leave a message like that with anyone they loved. And one should never receive a message like that when they thought the person dead.

She swallowed the dread crawling up her throat. The problem was that the future was uncertain. There was no guarantee she’d return home.