The panic in my chest didn't ease-it grew worse.
I could smell blood in the air.
I promised to keep you alive. And that's exactly what I'm doing.
No. No, no, no! This was not saving. This was killing. For my sake! Why?! I never wanted this. I never asked for this. Then why did he have to? I wouldn't let him do this. Not on my watch.
Before I knew, I was on him, grasping his arm in my trembling hold. "Judas, please. You don't have to-"
His grip on my arm remained firm but his fingers dug into my flesh as though he feared I might collapse-or perhaps run. "Are you scared of me, ptichka?"
I froze. Was I? I didn't know. I was scared, and then at the same time I was not. I knew he wouldn't harm me and that should calm me, yet the knowledge he would kill all the people in here, did not sit well with me. I might be anything, but not a murderer, even if I was not killing them myself, but I was letting them die.
I looked into his eyes and he took my breath away.
His hand cupped my cheek. So warm. Yet I couldn't match the coldness in his eyes. "I won't harm you, ptichka. You don't have to be afraid of me."
"But there are innocent people-"
"What a fragile lie you cling to, Fenochka," A bitter laugh escaped his lips and I saw the mask he wore slipping just for a second. "Innocence is a myth whispered to children before they're old enough to see the world for what it is," I gasped as he swallowed hard, "It is a feast for the powerful and a graveyard for the naive."
He leaned closer. "Do you see these people?" He gestured subtly toward the crowd as his grip on my arm tightened just enough to remind me he controlled the moment. "They wear their masks well-practiced smiles, white lies and thin blood. Every fucking one of them would slit your throat and not care for the innocence in your eyes."
"But that doesn't mean-"
"Doesn't mean what, ptichka? That they deserve to die?" His lips curved into a shadow of a smile, mocking, predatory and I swallowed hard. "Deserve is a very understated word. This world isn't built on merit. It's built on blood and ash. And if you're not willing to spill it, then someone else will spill yours."
I shuddered, but he wasn't finished. His hand dropped from my cheek, his eyes burning with an intensity that seemed to pierce through me. "I don't kill because I enjoy it, Fenochka. I kill because it's the only language this wretched world understands. Mercy is weakness."
"Judas…"
"You won't understand me, little bird."
He let go of me, and I stared at the floor. What wouldn't I understand? The cruelty? The violence? Or the twisted logic behind it? Maybe it was all of it. Maybe it was none of it. My chest felt tight, as if his words had wrapped themselves around my lungs, squeezing.
Tears blurred my vision. Was he right? Were we all wearing masks, pretending to be something we weren't? Had I been naïve to think there was still good in this world, still innocence worth saving?
But no, I couldn't believe it. I wouldn't. If I gave in to that kind of thinking, I'd lose myself. I'd become like him-cold, detached, ruthless. He was not wrong, though, was he? My sub-consciousness whispered and I stumbled. How many of those people out there would stop to save you if the roles were reversed? Would any of them risk their lives for you?
I swallowed hard.
Every single one of them would slit your throat and not care for the innocence in your eyes. Was that true? Was virtue really so meaningless?
Another gunshot cracked through the air. My knees buckled, and my hand clutched the banister to steady myself. The sickening thud of another body hitting the floor sent a fresh wave of nausea washing over me. I couldn't see who it was. I didn't want to.
The guards were everywhere now, moving and yelling. They weren't protecting anyone-they were controlling on his command. Their weapons were trained on the crowd. One of them, a towering figure in a black suit with a face like granite, barked out an order that silenced the room.
"On your knees! Heads down!"
A collective gasp rippled through the crowd and people hesitated. My legs trembled as I sank to the ground beside the staircase, unable to fight the crushing pressure any longer. I clutched the cold marble for balance as my nails scraped against the smooth surface as my body refused to obey my commands.
Judas didn't falter. He continued strolling through the crowd. The guards' guns didn't waver, but neither did he. They seemed to know better than to aim at him.
My gaze darted toward him. I reached out toward him instinctively, like he was the only tether I had to reality.
Another shot rang out, followed by a scream that cut off abruptly. My body jerked involuntarily, and I doubled over, clutching my stomach as a wave of dizziness washed over me. The room spun, and I felt like I was suffocating until I couldn't breathe any longer.
My eyes just watched him when he finally stopped where Vlad Morozov knelt at the centre of it all. And I didn't know if the mutiny in his eyes scared me or Judas's indifference.
"What is the meaning of this?" Guards pointed their guns at Vlad as he glared at Judas. "What the fuck are you doing?"
The room stilled and some woman in the crowd cried. "He deceived us all-"
Bang!
I flinched as her body hit the floor. The others gasped and crawled back.
But the gun shot barely took Judas's eyes off of Vlad.
He tilted his head slightly and the corner of his mouth twitched in a smirk. "What does it look like I'm doing, Mr President?" he drawled. "I told you I have a better surprise for you, didn't I?"