"Besides," Grimes continued, thinking that I was wavering, "I'm starting to take a shine to you, Ms. Blanco.

You're strong, just like you said Sophia was. And I do so admire the strong."

He didn't admire strong people; he wanted to break them to make himself feel stronger. That's what he had tried to do to Sophia all those years ago: break her spirit, break her strength, break her will to live, to survive all the horrors that he had visited upon her. But he hadn't broken Sophia, and he wasn't going to break me either.

"come on, now," he said, his voice taking on a soft, cooing note. "If you come back with us quietly, I'll keep you for myself. None of my men will touch you. I promise you that."

Hazel's mouth gaped open for a moment before her whole face tightened with rage and jealousy. The Fire flickering in her hand coalesced into a ball of molten lava that oozed out between her fingers and splattered onto the rocks at her feet, causing the stone to shriek in agony.

But Grimes didn't notice. He only had eyes for me.

After a moment, he licked his lips, like his men had done back at camp, and his gaze flicked up and down my body.

No doubt the bastard was thinking about how I'd look in a pretty white dress with my hair in a sweet little braid.

Well, he was never, ever going to find out.

My only regrets were that I wouldn't get a chance to tell my friends and family how much I loved them and that I wouldn't be able to stop Grimes once and for all.

I thought of Owen and how he'd kissed me on top of the ridge. There had been a desperate promise in that kiss, one that said that there was still a chance that things could get better between us, one that had kept me going through all of this. Just when it seemed like we'd finally turned a corner, we were going to be torn apart again forever.

But Owen would understand. He'd seen the pit. He'd seen what Grimes and Hazel had done to Sophia. He'd understand why I had to do this. I just wished . . . I just wished that I could have seen him once more.

But wishes were for fools. People made their own decisions, their own lives, their own fates. That was what Fletcher had always said, and it was certainly true in this case.

I'm sorry, Owen. So sorry. I wish that I had been able to keep my promise to you.

I slowly held the rifle out to my side, laid it down on the ground, and kicked it away, sending it skittering across the stones. Then I straightened back up, holding both of my hands out to my sides. Grimes smiled with hungry, sadistic glee, thinking that I was finally surrendering, that I was finally weakening, that I was finally giving up.

His grin lasted until I started walking backward toward the edge of the cliff.

"Don't be stupid," Grimes warned. "You'll never survive a fall like that."

"Probably not," I agreed. "But I have no interest in being your little torture toy either. I'd rather take my chances with the river and the rocks. Simple as that."

Before he could react, and still thinking of Owen, I turned and threw myself off the cliff.

Chapter Twenty-three

It seemed as though I had a pair of cement blocks strapped to my boots. That's how quickly gravity yanked me down.

The cliff rushed by my face in a swirling mix of grays and greens, and the wind tore at my hair and screamed in my ears.Even as I plummeted toward the rocks, river, and rapids, I grabbed hold of what little Stone magic I had left and used it to harden my body as much as I could. I reached and strained and clawed for all those tiny bits of power, trying to weave the scraps into my usual solid shell, but I didn't know if it would be enough. If not, at least the end would be quick.

I hit the water a second later.

The impact knocked all of the air from my lungs and pulled me deep beneath the surface. For a moment, everything went cold and wet and black, and I thought that I was dead.

But then that pesky, determined, undeniable instinct to survive, to live, rose inside me, and I realized that the pressure in my lungs hurt too much for me to be dead.

It took me several sharp, hard kicks before I was able to break through to the surface. Even then, all I managed to do was swallow down a quick breath before the current dragged me under again.

I'd jumped into the Aneirin River twice before. Once from a balcony at the Ashland Opera House after a botched hit. Then again from the top of a moving train in order to escape Elektra LaFleur, an assassin with electrical elemental magic. But this was far more brutal an experience than either one of those previous adventures. In both of those cases, the water had only wanted to drag me down, down, down. But now it wanted to pull me every which way, dash me against the rocks, suck me down, push me up, and repeat the whole process over and over again until my mind was spinning around as much as my body was.

I quickly exhausted what was left of my Stone magic, and my skin reverted to its normal texture. That meant that I felt every single pull and grab and yank of the water, every slam of my body against a half-submerged rock or a gnarled fallen tree, every slash of a sharp stone across my skin. Good thing these weren't shark-infested waters, or I would have been their buffet, that's how much blood seemed to flow from the dozens of tiny nicks and cuts that crisscrossed my body. Still, I laughed at the thought.

At least, I tried to. All I really ended up doing was swallowing more water.

Just when I was about to give in and let the water sweep me under forever, the rapids surged forward, flowing even faster than before, as though they were building toward some grand finale. All that was missing was some wild, loud, bombastic music to go along with the steady surge. I blinked through the sheets of water stinging my eyes. Why was there so much blue? It almost seemed like the river was flowing into the sky -

I barely had time to suck in another breath before I plunged over the waterfall.

It wasn't a terribly steep drop, maybe thirty feet, but the force of the fall stunned me, and my mind went blank. Then my body slammed against the bottom of the pool below, snapping me out of my dangerous daze. Still, it took all the energy that I had left to kick my legs, claw my hands upward, and finally break free of the surface once more.

I blinked wearily and looked around, wondering what new challenge awaited me. But the waterfall must have been the end of the rapids, because the river formed a large, sedate pool before slowly flowing out of the other side of the wooded canyon that I was in.

The muddy bank was only about fifty feet away, but it took me much longer than it should have to flounder in that direction. At this point, I didn't even have the strength left to use my arms to pull myself through the water. All I could do was weakly kick, like a puppy that was in way over its head.

Eventually, though, I made it over to the bank. I tried to get to my feet, but they kept slipping and going out from under me. So I sank onto my knees and slopped forward through the mud, sending sprays of it in every direction. I got free of most of the water, although it still lapped at my ankles, bringing a bit of fresh misery with every slow, cold surge.

The sun beat down on my head, frying my scalp, but even that warmth seemed distant and far away. Finally, I couldn't go any farther. No matter how hard I tried, my arms and legs wouldn't cooperate, and I just lay there, panting for breath amid the mud, rocks, and dead limbs that formed a sort of driftwood fence on the bank.

I made sure that my face was out of the water as best I could. Then the blackness rose in my mind again, and this time, I didn't try to fight it as it blotted out everything else.

Sophia was in trouble.

That was the thought that hummed through my mind as I ran toward the storage room, grabbed a paring knife lying on a table there, and hurried back to the double doors that led into the front of the restaurant. I peered out through one of the windows, but the two giants had their heads down, counting the cash from the register. I opened one of the doors just wide enough for me to slip into the storefront, then tip-toed over to the end of the counter and hunkered down there, out of sight of our attackers.

I crept up to the corner of the counter and peered around it. The blond kid was still lying in front of the counter where Mason had dumped him, his thin arms and legs sprawled out at awkward angles. So was Sophia. I hadn't realized it before, but she'd cut her head when it had slammed against the counter, and blood had dripped down the side of her face and pooled on the floor. For a moment, I thought that she was dead, that I was too late to save her, that I'd failed her.But I made myself keep staring at her, and I saw that her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. Some of the tightness in my own chest eased. As long as she was still breathing, Jo-Jo could fix the rest. That was what Fletcher always said whenever he came home with a knife, a gunshot, or some other wound he'd gotten as the Tin Man.

The giants finished counting the cash, split the bills between them, and walked around the counter so that they were looming over Sophia and the boy again. I thought that they might pick up Sophia and carry her into the back of the restaurant. That's what they'd been talking about before -  taking her back there so they could kill her. The kid too.

But instead of trying to move her, the other giant, Zeke, got down on his knees on the floor. He leered at Sophia, even though she couldn't see him, then started unbuckling his belt.

"C'mon," the other man, Mason, growled. "Quit fooling around. There's no time for that. Besides, someone could always walk by and look in the windows at any second."

Not likely, given the late hour. Besides, the restaurant wasn't too far away from Southtown. Some nights, the vampire hookers and their pimps wandered over in this direction, so the street outside wasn't exactly a great place to linger after dark. Still, I held my breath, hoping that the possibility would be enough to get the giant to leave Sophia alone.

"Let 'em look." Zeke sneered. "I don't care."

"Well, I do," Mason snapped back. "So let's get them in the back out of sight before someone sees us. We got a nice little score from the cash register. Let's see if there's a safe in the back, then kill them and leave."

Zeke snorted. "No way. I say we have a little fun with this bitch before we off her."

"And I say that I don't plan on getting pinched by the cops over this . . ."

While the men continued to argue, I left the corner of the counter and darted forward, ducking down behind a table and some chairs. At this point, I was about fifteen feet away from the men. I could cross the restaurant in a few steps and be on top of them before they realized what was happening.

My hand trembled a bit, but I made myself clench my fingers around the hilt of the paring knife even tighter. The feel of the smooth steel handle digging into my cold skin steadied me. I drew in a breath. I could do this. I would do this. This was what Fletcher was training me for, so I could protect myself and the people I cared about. I didn't know if that included some random kid, much less Sophia, but Fletcher and Jo-Jo loved her, and I loved them. And that was all that really mattered to me.

"All right, all right," Zeke muttered. "Look at her. She ain't no great beauty. I'd rather have the cash from the register than her, anyway."

"C'mon, then," Mason repeated. "Quit whining, and help me carry her. She looks heavy."

Zeke rolled his eyes, but he rebuckled his belt and got back to his feet. Then both of the men leaned over. Mason grabbed Sophia's ankles, while Zeke took hold of her shoulders.

"On three," Mason said. "One, two - "

I didn't wait for

three . Instead, I rose from behind the table and raced across the restaurant. The giants were so focused on Sophia that they never even saw me coming.

I rammed my knife into Mason's right side. He screamed with pain and surprise, but there was nothing that I could do to keep him quiet, so I yanked the knife out and stabbed it into his other side. The paring knife wasn't quite as strong as I'd thought it would be, but I kept twisting and twisting it into his muscles, sawing through his ligaments and tendons.

Blood spattered all over the blue and pink pig tracks on the floor, turning them a rusty red.

Mason pitched face-first onto the floor and started crawling forward, trying to get away from me. This time, I plunged the knife square into his back. I used my weight to drive the blade in as deep as it would go. I must have hit something vital, because he let out a choked scream that quickly die down into a raspy gurgle. He arched his back once, then slumped forward onto the floor, dead.

"You little bitch!" Zeke roared. "You'll pay for that!"

Before I could crawl off the dead guy, Zeke stepped forward, dug his hand into my hair, and yanked me up. This time, I yelped in pain and surprise. He held me out in front of him and gave me a vicious shake. Then he started hitting me.Once, twice, three times, the giant backhanded me. My head snapped from side to side to side, and my world spun around and around and around from the blows. As a finishing touch, he rammed his fist into my stomach. He let go of my hair, and I dropped like a stone to the ground.

Zeke was strong, even for a giant, and the blows had hurt so much that I was having trouble fighting the black spots swimming at the edge of my vision. But I made myself focus and stay awake. Because if he knocked me out, he'd probably rape and kill me on the spot - if he didn't decide to go ahead and simply beat me to death.

So I pushed back at the black spots and focused on breathing. It took me a moment to realize that I'd managed to hang on to the knife while he'd been hitting me, and I tightened my grip on the bright, shiny silver handle, ready to use it on him the second that I got a chance.

But Zeke didn't give me one. He was in a rage now, and he drew back his boot to kick me in the ribs. I barely managed to reach for my Stone magic in time to keep him from caving in my chest with the vicious blow. And he didn't stop.