On the other side of the door, I hear Marco’s voice. “Montes, Serenity,” he shouts, dropping our titles, “stay inside.” Then his footfalls move away from us.

He expects us to hide in this room like sitting ducks, but I’ve had too much military training to ever act like a civilian again. Oddly enough, Montes seems to have the same idea. He tries to push me behind him as he approaches the door. Instead I brush past him.

The king catches my hand. “Serenity—”

I turn and look at him. “I know what I’m doing.”

He opens his mouth, then closes it. Montes tugs me to him and kisses me.

“I’ll follow your lead,” he says when he breaks away. “Just don’t get hurt—that’s an order.”

I pull away from him. “I won’t.” I just hope I’m right.

Chapter 21

Serenity

I crack the door open and peek out. Just as I do so, my guard, who has been stationed at the door, turns toward us.

“Get back inside,” he commands.

“You and I both know we’re outnumbered,” I say. That’s the only way a group would be ballsy enough to infiltrate the hospital. “We need to leave this place.”

The guard hesitates, and in that span of time, a series of shots punctuates the silence.

Now is the perfect time to kill the king or, at the very least, severely injure him. It’s an unpleasant realization that I don’t want him to meet his end here.

“Can you help me get the king out?” I ask.

I can feel Montes press in behind me.

The guard’s eyes flick from me to the king. “There’s a back way out of the hospital where a car should be waiting,” the guard says. “I can get him to it so long as the enemy isn’t waiting there to ambush us.”

Having been in communication with the Resistance for so long, I know how these groups work. They probably jumped on the unusual opportunity to attack the king while he was in a vulnerable position. It’s a toss up whether they know the layout of the place or not.

“I’ll go first,” I say to the guard. “You’ll have to navigate.”

“No.” Montes’s hand falls heavily on my shoulder, like he’s considering physically restraining me.

“My queen,” the guard says, “it’s my job to protect you too.”

The sound of gunfire is getting closer.

“If the king dies, the world will be leaderless when we need one the most.” I shouldn’t be worrying about the king’s death. He can’t be killed. But I’ve seen him bleed just as easily as I do and watched him take medications like any other person might. I am beginning to think the Undying King isn’t quite so resilient as he might have me believe.

“Serenity—” Montes begins.

I swivel to face him. “I’ll be fi—”

The king shoves a gun into my hand, and for a beat I stare dumbly at it. I hadn’t even realized the king was carrying.

“Don’t hesitate to use it,” he says.

My fingers curl around the weapon, and I nod. I open the door wider and pull Montes out with me.

To the king and the guard I’m sure I look resolute. That’s not how I feel. Inside I’m battling years of conditioning. Two months ago, I would’ve used this opportunity to assist those who are attacking us. Now I am protecting the very person I once hated.

“Where do we go?” I ask.

The guard points down the hall, and we begin to trot. We pass the nurses’ station, which is now abandoned.

The sound of gunfire is moving, but I can’t tell where it’s coming from.

At some point the guard yells, “Stop!”

I halt and turn to him and the king. The guard pulls out a key and inserts it into a door that blends into the wall.

My eyes move to Montes. He looks surprisingly calm, and I have to wonder how often he’s been in this situation. As for me, I’m breathing heavily, but I feel exhilarated.

The guard opens the door and beckons us through. I enter first and glance around. It’s a stairwell.

“The car is down two floors,” the guard says.

I begin moving, ignoring the chill that seeps into my bare feet. The gunfire has died down, which means that someone’s soldiers have been dealt with. I hope it’s theirs rather than ours, then cringe when I realize just how quickly I changed sides.

The silence that follows has my heart pounding. This isn’t a good situation, us being here in this stairwell with only a single guard to protect the king.

I descend the second flight of stairs. A narrow hallway branches off of it, leading to a door that exits to the back of the hospital. Through the narrow window a nondescript van stands out against the inky black night.

“Is that the getaway car?” I ask.

“It is,” Montes responds from behind me.

I turn to gaze at him. “I’m going out there first.”

“No, you’re not,” Montes responds.

I glance at the guard.

“I take my orders from the king,” he says.

I work my jaw but nod. I have to assume that everyone here can take care of themselves.

“Jose,” the king says to the guard, “you’ll go first, I’ll go second, the queen will go last.”

I open my mouth to protest, but Jose is already moving. I jog to keep up. Once Jose reaches the exit, my stomach clenches. If someone’s waiting for us, we’re either going to meet our maker or be in a whole lot of pain in the next few seconds.

Jose pushes open the door and sprints to the van. The king’s right behind him, and then I’m out the door moving, gun in hand, my skin prickling at the cold night air.

The shot takes us all by surprise. I see Jose and the king flinch in front of me at the same time my body jerks. I already know whose been hit before the pain sets in.

I stumble and fall forward, clutching my side. Dark liquid seeps under my hand, and then the fiery sting of the wound explodes across my skin. I grind my teeth together at the lacerating pain.

The king shouts, and Jose muscles him into the car. Above that I can hear the pound of footsteps coming closer.

“Go!” I scream at them. I want to say so much more, but I can’t seem to formulate my feelings into words. Not now when the pain is pushing every other thought to the wayside.

More shots blast my eardrums, and I jump at each one. Bullet holes dent the van frighteningly close to the wheels. Luckily the night makes the shooters’ aim less accurate.