I stared at Marina, numb and suddenly extremely tired. “Okay,” I responded simply.

She sneered, shaking her head at me. “You don’t care, do you? You really are a sociopath.”

I just shook my head at her. I had no words. It was like my voice had been stolen from me. I couldn’t cope with the fact that Viggo was fading, each beat of his heart pushing him closer to death.

Pain exploded on my face as she reached out and slapped me. “You killed my sister and my mother,” she snarled.

I felt her hands on my shirt, clutching it tightly and using it to lift me up off Viggo. I tilted my head to look at her, still unable to speak.

“Don’t you care?!” she screamed in my face, spittle hitting me on the cheek. “You’re a traitor and murderer, Violet Bates.”

“I’m a pawn,” I whispered, my voice finally returning to me. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

She lifted me higher, and I looked down. I should have been stunned or surprised to see my feet dangling almost a foot off the ground, but I just couldn’t seem to manifest any feeling. Not with Viggo’s blood staining my hands.

“You can’t even take responsibility for what you’ve done, can you?” she screamed, shaking me. “Well, I’m going to make sure you pay for this! And I’m going to make your death as painful as possible.”

The look she shot me was one of disgust, disdain, confusion, and rage. She screamed again, and then suddenly I was flying through the air.

I barely registered it, but my body drew from years of muscle memory, and braced for impact as I slammed into a cabinet. A line of pain across my back cut through the numbness that had enveloped my body.

As I lifted my head off the floor from where I had slid, I was aware of Marina’s footsteps growing closer. I started crawling away from the sound, my hands seeking a hold on the concrete floor.

I felt her hand grab my hair, yanking it hard enough to bring me to my knees, and force me backward. I grabbed at her hands, clawing at them in a desperate attempt to get her off.

Suddenly a flash of color darted past me, and I felt something impact Marina, causing her to let go of my hair. Looking over my shoulder, I saw Ms. Dale locking her good arm around Marina’s neck, hauling her back and away from me.

Shakily, I rose to my feet and turned toward the two. Marina had already peeled Ms. Dale’s arm away, and was twisting it around in her hand. Ms. Dale grunted in pain as Marina twisted her arm. She took a step into Marina’s hold, and then twisted her body and neatly flipped Marina over her back and onto the floor.

“You were never a good student, Marina,” Ms. Dale said as she placed her boot to Marina’s neck and pulled on the arm she was still holding.

I heard an audible pop, and Marina screamed as Ms. Dale neatly dislocated her shoulder. I took a step past them, spotting my gun on the floor next to Viggo’s prone form.

Then Marina grabbed Ms. Dale’s foot with her good hand and heaved, sending Ms. Dale crashing over a counter through some lab equipment and landing heavily on the other floor. I reacted, racing toward the gun on the floor.

Marina kicked out her leg, and tripped me. I caught myself as I fell, twisting to my side. I landed heavily, my back and hip protesting the impact.

I set it aside and began sliding myself toward the gun. It didn’t matter—Marina was on me in seconds. She straddled my body, and pushed me over on my back, holding me firm with a hand on my sternum.

I struggled, my legs kicking out to find leverage, my hands on her arm trying to push her off. I just needed her to move a fraction of an inch, and I could get her off me.

Except she was so strong. It was like a mouse trying to fight off a cat. She began pressing her hand deeper into my sternum, and I felt it in my lungs. She cut off their ability to expand, making it impossible for me to breathe.

I reached up, going for her eyes, but she swatted them away with her free hand, and began pressing harder. I felt the weight against the bone. I tried to suck in air, but the pressure was too tight.

I began gagging, dark spots dancing before my eyes. I reached over my head blindly, my hand seeking the cold metal of the gun. Marina’s eyes followed the line, and she smirked.

I kept trying to suck in air. The dark spots were growing, and I could feel the fight leave me as I struggled to breathe. My vision darkened, and I felt my limbs going limp.

Suddenly, Marina’s weight vanished, and I sucked in a cool breath of air, my vision clearing. There was a deep ache as my lungs expanded. I felt like I couldn’t breathe air fast enough. I was light-headed and dizzy, but I pushed past it as another burst of adrenaline hit my system.

Looking over, I saw Tim, his arms wrapped around Marina, hauling her back off me. She was screaming, struggling against him, but he held her fast.

I frowned, baffled at how he was holding his own against her. I watched Marina’s feet kicking out, scrambling for purchase, but Tim kept a firm grip on her. She planted an elbow into his ribs, and he grunted, but kept his hold.

Turning, I began crawling over to where the gun was laying at the edge of the pool of Viggo’s blood. I looked over at Viggo, his face even paler, his breathing shallow, and I felt a surge of energy propelling me.

Suddenly, Tim gave another grunt, and I whirled. Marina had her hand around his throat. His legs were dangling. I propelled myself to my feet and took a step toward them, intent on clawing her eyes out if I had to, when he planted a foot against her chest.

I gaped as he grabbed her forearm with his hands and pushed hard with his leg. Marina’s grip on his throat slipped, and she stumbled back. Tim landed lightly on his feet, his breathing heavy. The two sized each other up for a long second, taking careful steps in a semi-circle around each other.

Heart in my throat, I took a step forward intent on intervening, but Tim threw his hand up behind him, stopping me.

The tension between the two of them stretched out, like a rubber band being pulled too tightly, and then they snapped into motion, the two of them slugging it out with fists and knees.

Marina’s damaged arm dangled uselessly at her side while she fought my brother one handed. However, Tim was clearly not schooled in martial arts—his punches were poorly timed and aimed.

The sound of their fists on each other’s flesh filled the room. I stepped backward toward the gun, intent on having it ready to fire on Marina in case she got the upper hand.

Tim landed a punch on Marina’s face with a crack, and she staggered back, blood spilling from her mouth. She spat it out, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

“So, you’re one of Mr. Jenks’ little toys,” she smirked. She rotated her good shoulder as she stalked around Tim. He watched her warily, his face bruised. Marina paused in her march, sizing him up. “I’m one of the originals,” she announced, a sadistic glow lighting in her eyes.

With that, she launched herself at Tim, catching him by surprise and tackling him at the waist. My heart leapt in my throat as she landed on top of him, and began punching him in the face.

The gun was forgotten as a rush of rage consumed me. I leapt on her back with a shriek, wrapping my legs around her waist. I bound my arm around her neck, locking my other hand around my wrist, and began to squeeze.

She pushed up on her feet and began shifting me from side to side, like a dog shedding water from its fur, but I held on tight, applying more pressure to her windpipe. I felt a stab of satisfaction as she gasped in response to me cutting off her air.

She staggered back a few steps and I held on fast.

I hadn’t been paying attention to my surroundings, however, and she slammed me into a wall, hard enough that I lost my grip.

I reacted, but not fast enough, and the back of my head impacted the concrete. Blinding pain rushed in. I couldn’t catch my breath, and was instantly nauseas as wave after wave of pain surged through me.

When I could finally open my eyes, I looked around. Marina was standing over my brother, hauling him up on his knees. She grabbed his chin, studying his face.

He gave a groan, and I stretched out my hand toward them. “Don’t,” I gasped, as I tried to move toward them. Dizziness assaulted me, and I couldn’t seem to find the strength in my limbs to make them do what I wanted.

Marina looked over at me, and grinned sinisterly. “Is this your brother?” she asked, her voice laced with wonder and excitement.

I clenched my jaw. “Don’t hurt him. I killed your sister. Me. Not him. Leave him alone.”

She chuckled as she caressed the side of his face. He flinched away, but she grabbed him by the back of the neck, holding him tight. “Oh no, no, no,” she tsked. “This is just too perfect.”

I groaned, and managed to make it to my side. “Please,” I begged.

Her laughter rung out, bitter and filled with the promise of pain. “You took my sister,” she grated out. “It’s only fitting that I take your brother.”

I cried out in protest and watched in horror as she sauntered around Tim, until she was behind him. Lazily, she placed her hands on his head, one on the back of his neck, the other snaking around under his jaw, gripping the other side. I knew the hold—it was for breaking necks, and felt a scream building up in my throat.

“Say goodbye, Violet,” she taunted, her eyes burning deeply into mine.

I looked at Tim, who was staring at me, tears in his eyes. I reached for him, trying to find the power to move, to stop her, when a gunshot rang out.

Marina’s eyes widened, and she slumped onto her knees, blood trickling out from the still smoking bullet hole in her forehead.

Looking over toward Viggo, I gaped at Ms. Dale who was braced against the counter, the still smoking gun in her good hand. Blood was trickling from a gash on the side of her head, matting her brown hair to her forehead.

She relaxed her arm and tossed the gun on the counter, leaning heavily against it.

Tim crawled over to me, and curled up against me, his body trembling. I sat there, stroking his hair, too numb to even feel relieved.