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Our Violent Ends (These Violent Delights, #2)(113)

Author:Chloe Gong

Once the workers were finished, the Nationalists would come in to claim an allied victory. And depending on when the blackmailer decided to show their face, it would soon turn into a civil war fought with monsters and madness. Juliette supposed she should be grateful this revolution was merely an exercise in bullets right now. The monsters were being conserved. Squirreled away until the real claim for power.

“We have to go,” Benedikt declared. “I’m sorry, Juliette, but you’ll have to leave the bodies here.”

“No matter,” Juliette replied quietly, wiping at her face. Perhaps when they were found later, the workers would be blamed for the deaths. Perhaps she wouldn’t need to be more terrible. She could just be a murderer instead of a murderer and a liar.

Another round of heavy gunfire. They had to take the back roads out. There was no way they could venture along the main creek and not be shot immediately.

“Where are we going to go?” Alisa whispered. There was something in her hands. She had retrieved Tyler’s book, hugging it to her chest. “What sort of—”

Marshall shushed her, then gestured for them to press against the wall, remaining very still while a group gathered close to the alley, yelling instructions at one another to fan out. This was not just an opportunity to incite chaos. With the machine guns coming out, the workers were trying to take Shanghai from the hands of imperialists and gangsters.

It was exactly what both the Scarlets and the White Flowers had feared.

“We have a safe house two streets away,” Benedikt reported quietly when the gunshots seemed to move in the other direction. “Let’s go.”

Marshall touched Juliette’s elbow. “Come with us.”

Juliette startled. She could still feel Roma’s eyes on her.

“No,” she said. “No, I have my own.”

The ground shook under their feet. Somewhere, somehow, something was blowing up. On the other side of the creek, the nearest factory’s windows all shattered into dust.

There was no time to lose. They needed to disperse.

Juliette bent and picked up the pistol she had tossed, trying hard not to look at her cousin’s body. “Stay inside until this blows over. When it ends, Shanghai will not be the same city.” She made to leave, and for the second time, Roma lunged out quickly and grabbed her wrist. This time Juliette finally whirled to face him, her teeth gritted.

“Roma, let go.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“The hell you are.”

“Quit running from me,” Roma snapped. “We need to talk.”

“Really?” Juliette exclaimed. A bullet struck the mouth of the alley, and Juliette knew that they had been spotted. “You want to talk now? While the city undergoes revolution?”

Behind them, Benedikt and Marshall were wide-eyed, uncertain if they needed to step in and facilitate this. They could either demand that Juliette to accept it, or persuade Roma to back off, and neither option seemed very likely to have success. Only Alisa offered a little thumbs-up as Roma turned over his shoulder, waiting to see if another bullet was coming.

“Benedikt, Marshall,” he said. There was a note of awe in his voice that he could at last say those two names together again, the way that things were supposed to be—the return to a normal he knew even if the world around him was splitting apart. “Please take Alisa to the safe house.”

“Roma—”

“I’m standing here until Juliette agrees to talk,” he warned. “If the workers storm this alley, then they themselves can move me.”

Juliette stared at him, flabbergasted. “You have lost your mind.”

True to his word, he was unmoving as Benedikt and Marshall exchanged a quick nod, nudging Alisa to hurry and go. Alisa reached over to squeeze Roma’s arm as they passed by, whispering a quick, “Stay safe,” before the three of them disappeared. Then it was only Roma and Juliette and an alley soaked in red.

“It is not a difficult choice, Juliette,” he said. Voices now, coming right by the main road, seconds away from turning into the alley. “We can leave, or we can die here.”

Juliette felt the press of his fingers on her wrist. She wondered if he noticed her pulse beating a cacophony under his touch.

“For crying out loud,” she said darkly, shaking his grip loose so that his fingers entwined with hers instead, blood mixing on skin, pulling him away from the mouth of the alley. “You are so dramatic.”

Just as the workers rounded into the alley and loosed their ammunition, Juliette and Roma disappeared through the narrow back passages and merged into the city.