Page 59 of Devil May Lie

“Bring her back,” he growled. What the hell did this person have to be angry about? She was here and then she wasn’t. A blink of time. A moment. The bursting of a bubble. The end of a chain reaction.

She was right here.

Maybe this time, he could have saved her.

Maybe this time, he could have.

If only this person hadn’t screwed it up.

Berga rose to his feet. He’d kill him. A life for a life.

A life for a life.

That was fair.

Fair.

Like a theme park ride.

He didn’t like knives. They were messy. But he was already covered in blood anyway, right? What did it matter. Knives were swift. Efficient.

A life for a life.

The thin one he kept tucked into his left boot came free with ease, and he brandished it with expert grace, darting forward even as the man before him cursed and shot back. He’d stab him in the eyes first. It was always easier to take down prey once blinded. Then he could take his time with the rest. Work on him slowly. Efficiency didn’t always have to equate to time spent quickly.

“Berga.”

The eyes first, then the tongue, then—

“Berga!”

“Enough of your screeching can’t you see I am busy!” He jabbed to the left at the insufferable sound, felt the tip of the blade sink past flesh and stick after only an inch or so. Movement in front of him caused him to turn forward again, and he frowned. The man who’d hit him was still there.

Unscathed.

Unscathed…

Berga glanced to the weapon in his hand, lodged into a shoulder covered in black leather. No, black with maroon detailing.

Oh. He’d hit the wrong person.

“Berga.” A palm settled over his, gently, the accompanying voice almost soothing. “It’s okay, baby. I’m still with you.”

“Still…” That was perplexing. No one was with him. Berga was alone. Berga was always alone. Even Flix had left him on some stupid vacation and— “Good Light.”

It came back to him all at once, with enough force it almost knocked him off his feet. He dropped the hilt of the knife and stumbled back a full three steps before a strong arm banded around his waist and pulled him in against a solid chest.

Shamelessly, Berga covered his ears and buried his face against whoever was holding him in a bid to block out the harsh lights as the abyss vanished and reality snapped back into place. Lights were everywhere. The stimulation was beating at him from all sides and it felt like his brain was going to explode out of his skull.

“Tranquilizer,” he somehow managed to mumble. “I need the tranquilizer.”

“That’s what he landed on,” the first voice from earlier.

Berga dared to pull back a little and see, frowning when he saw Nate standing there with a swollen cheek. “Who hit you?” He’d kill them.

“You did, asshole,” the man Berga had been aiming for growled and it finally connected that it was Kazimir.

Had he been about to murder Kazimir?