Chapter 131
Raven
Maddie circled me like a shark scenting blood in the water. Which, to be fair, was pretty accurate. My ribs screamed with every shallow breath, my vision swam at the edges, and I could taste copper on my tongue.
Perfect.
She came at me fast—faster than I expected. The training she'd been bragging about wasn't entirely bullshit. I pushed off my injured leg, adrenaline spiking through my system like liquid lightning, and twisted away from her lunge.
Almost made it.
Her knife whispered past my ribs, close enough that I felt the air displacement. I grabbed for her wrist, muscle memory taking over where conscious thought had abandoned ship.
Disarm. Control. Kill.
Except Maddie wasn't the same clumsy amateur who'd helped beat the original Raven to death in that music room.
She pivoted—actually fucking pivoted—and drove her boot into my chest.
The impact wasn't much. Maybe equivalent to a love tap from someone who actually knew how to throw a kick.
But my body was already a symphony of broken things barely held together by spite and stubbornness.
I staggered back, gasping, each breath a fresh knife wound courtesy of my fractured ribs. Retreat. Regroup. Survive.
"GET AWAY FROM MY MASTER!" Miles's voice cracked on the last word, teenage bravado warring with genuine terror. "You—you cowards! She just took down a bear and a wolf pack! And you wait until now to attack?"
I wanted to tell him to shut up and run. But talking required air I didn't have.
Maddie laughed—that crystalline, cheerleader-perfect laugh that probably charmed teachers and fooled parents into thinking she was an angel.
"Oh, wow." Maddie's voice dripped with theatrical admiration as she circled. "Look at you. The legendary Raven Martinez. Took down a bear and a wolf pack in one night." She paused, tilting her head. "You know what the funny thing is? If this were six weeks ago—if I were still the old Maddie—you could have both hands tied behind your back, both legs broken, and I still wouldn't stand a chance against you."
She flipped the knife in her hand with practiced ease. Showing off.
"But I'm not the old Maddie anymore." Her smile widened. "Those weeks I was out of school? Uncle Marcus sent me to train with Krav Maga specialist Aaron Reznik in Tel Aviv. Six weeks. Eight hours a day. No breaks." She rolled her shoulders, and I caught the subtle tells of someone who'd genuinely put in the work—the balanced stance, the controlled breathing. "And before I came to finish this? I dosed myself with military-grade ephedrine. Combat stimulant. Same stuff Delta Force uses."
She gestured at me with the knife, almost casual.
"Now look at you. Half-dead already. This is perfect."
I met her eyes and smiled—the same smile I used to wear in my past life when a mark thought they had me cornered.
The smile that said: You have no idea what you've walked into.
"Oh?" My voice came out raspy but steady. "You've been waiting for this?"
Maddie's fingers played along the knife's handle, caressing the grip like a lover. "Revenge is a dish best served cold, right? Ever since you came back... changed... after we beat the shit out of you—" She caught herself. "Sorry. After we beat the shit out of the old Raven in that music room... you've made my life hell. Mine and Tyler's."
Her voice dropped to something raw and ugly.
"Sometimes I wish we'd just finished it that day. Saved everyone a lot of trouble."
There it is.
The memory crashed over me—not mine, but inherited from the girl whose body I now wore. The music room. The fists. The cruel laughter. The taste of blood and tears and betrayal.
My fingers tightened on the KA-BAR's handle.
Raven, if you're watching from wherever the dead go... this is for you.
"Maddie—" One of her little crew, a nervous sophomore whose name I couldn't be bothered to remember, stepped forward. "Are you sure about this? I mean, if someone reports—"
"Reports what?" Maddie snapped, spinning to face them. "Those cowards back at camp won't come near here. They don't know what's happening. And you?" She leveled the knife at her friends. "Who's brave enough to report me? You're all accomplices. Every single one of you."
The kids dropped their gazes, shuffling their feet.
"Besides," another one muttered, "middle of nowhere. We just... didn't see anything, right?"
"Exactly." A third one, braver or stupider than the rest. "Just hurry up before sunrise. Harder to hide bodies in daylight."
Charming friends you've got there, Maddie.
Our eyes met across the blood-soaked clearing. The dying firelight painted her face in harsh shadows, turning her beauty into something monstrous.
"This is it, Raven."
"MASTER, RUN!" Miles's scream tore through the night.
But I didn't move.
Instead, I smiled wider—the same smile I'd worn in my past life when standing on rooftops in Prague, or in the shadows of Moscow alleys, or anywhere else where death was a heartbeat away.
The smile of someone who'd looked into the abyss so many times, we were on first-name basis.
"Oh," I said softly, "I've been waiting for this too. I'm going to enjoy every second."
Maddie's expression flickered. Confusion. Then mocking triumph. "Making jokes before you die? Pathetic."
She charged.
And I'd been right—her training showed. Reznik had taught her well. Low stance, knife held in a proper grip, footwork that actually made sense.
But I didn't move. Couldn't afford to. My body was running on fumes and fury, held together by the kind of stubbornness that made dying inconvenient.
One shot. That's all I had left in me.
Better make it count.
Maddie's eyes widened as I just stood there. Confusion flickered across her face, then savage joy. She thought I'd given up. That the pain had finally broken me.
The knife came for my heart—textbook strike, perfectly executed. Aaron Reznik would've been proud.
I waited.
Watched the blade cross the distance. Eighteen inches. Twelve. Six.
Now.