"We've got you, princess," I promised her just as a heavy fist found my jaw and I was knocked sideways by the force of it.
It was too smoky to be sure who was who within the confines of the belly of the helicopter, but seeing as I was happy to kill each and every one of them, that wasn't much of a problem for me.
I wrenched a knife from my belt, driving it into the chest of one of the guards as he lurched at me then lunged for another before he’d even fallen back into his chair. But just as I swung towards him, the helicopter dipped dramatically and I lost my footing, falling backwards towards the open door with my heart leaping as I dropped my knife and tried to grab anything at all to stop my fall.
My gut plummeted as I fell out of the door, but before I could fall to my death, a hand caught mine in a firm grasp and my gaze lifted from the churning propellors to meet Saint Memphis's cool, dark eyes.
The smoke grenade tumbled over my feet and twirled away into the darkness of the city below as the helicopter lurched the other way again.
"Watch yourself, brother," Saint growled like me almost dying had been a major inconvenience to him as he hauled me back into the belly of the aircraft.
I shoved him aside as one of the guards lunged at him, catching a fist to the jaw for my troubles before I was knocked from my feet and fell hard on my back with the asshole on top of me.
I fought like a demon, using every last drop of power in my limbs as I punched and punched as hard as I fucking could, feeling bone break as my opponent tried to pin me down beneath him.
Three gunshots went off in quick succession and Tatum's scream made my blood run cold as I failed to see anything beyond the beast of a man on top of me.
With a snarl of determination, I managed to get my knees up between us and I kicked out as hard as I could. The guard screamed as he was launched right out of the open door and I swiped blood from my face with the back of my hand as I got to my knees.
"Easy now," warned the asshole we'd been tailing earlier to find the lab, glaring at us from his position beside Tatum where he had a knife pressed to her throat.
Tatum's big blue eyes were wild and furious, not a drop of fear in them, just that burning determination to live which I loved so fucking much.
"I can put a bullet between your eyes before you spill so much as a drop of her blood," Saint threatened, his pistol aimed directly at Jonas as he stood facing off against him.
But the fact that he hadn't taken that shot told me he wasn't certain of that at all.
I rose to my feet slowly and Jonas's tongue darted out to moisten the corner of his lips as he looked between the two of us.
"What's going on back there?" the pilot called in fear and Jonas almost glanced his way before realising that was a bad fucking idea.
The last guard and the doctor were lying dead on the floor in growing pools of blood from Saint's shots and the two nurses were crying and cowering in the far corner, clearly hoping to avoid our attention.
"It's under control," Jonas barked at the pilot as the helicopter continued its route to fuck knew where.
"Is it?" I asked, tilting my head to one side and he tightened his grip in Tatum's hair, making her curse as she scrambled against his hold, a drop of blood spilling along the blade he held. He’d die for that. And I’d make sure it really hurt.
"Toss your guns out," Jonas snapped, raising his chin like he thought he was the man.
My lip peeled back as I did just that, the two pistols on my belt sailing away into the city below. Saint tossed his gun out a beat later and Jonas nodded eagerly.
"Knives too," Jonas added and our blades were quickly tossed out of the helicopter as well, neither of us willing to risk Tatum over a damn weapon. "Now, hold your wrists out."
I bristled as I did what he said and he gingerly reached out to the dead guard closest to him who was slumped in his chair, pulling a pair of thick zip ties from the corpse's pocket and tossing them towards us. He never once took the knife from Tatum's throat, keeping it in place with his other hand.
"Secure your wrists," Jonas snapped, getting cocky now and I was really looking forward to wiping that smug look off of his smarmy face.
We both did as commanded and I used my teeth to pull the zip tie tight around my wrists, though not so tight that I wouldn't be able to escape the hold they had on me. Jonas seemed to realise that and hesitantly moved around the bed, taking the knife from Tatum's throat and pointing it at me as he reached out to yank the zip tie tighter.
He stepped forward to do the same to Saint, but just as he did, Tatum managed to yank her leg free of her restraints and aimed a harsh kick at his back.
Jonas swore, stumbling forward and Saint threw his forehead down onto the bridge of his nose, making him shriek in agony as it shattered and blood spilled.
I charged at him like a raging bull, head down and shoulder catching him straight in the gut, knocking him down beneath me where I fell on him, slamming my bound hands into his face as hard as I could.
The keen sting of his blade swiping across my side sliced into me, but I just bellowed my rage as I hit him again and again.
Saint's heavy boot slammed down on Jonas's hand, immobilising the blade and grinding his fingers beneath his heel as blood poured from Jonas’s face beneath me while he screamed.
I didn't stop hitting, striking him again and again as Tatum yelled encouragement, giving me all the motivation I needed to understand that this motherfucker had done something terrible to her.
Jonas fell still beneath me and Saint dragged me back, the knife now in his hand as he swiftly cut through the zip tie binding my wrists and freed me.
Jonas groaned in agony as he came to and I hauled him to his feet before shoving him towards the open door and the terrifying drop below.
"Nash," Tatum gasped and I glanced over at her where she remained strapped to the hospital gurney. For a moment I thought she might have been about to tell me to spare him, but of course she didn't. She wasn't some frightened girl, scared to kill those who hurt her. She was a queen, and she wanted to command her knight into action. "Make it hurt," she snarled.
I smiled darkly at her, accepting the knife that Saint passed me as Jonas tried to fight against my hold on him, stamping on my feet and throwing elbows back at me. But I ignored every attempt he made and every hurt he caused me, focusing on the idea of our girl suffering and the knowledge that I was about to pay him back in kind.
I swept the blade across his throat, spraying an arc of blood out over the streets below and listening to him choke on it for several long seconds before shoving him out to die.
I didn't waste time watching him fall, turning back to Tatum and yanking the restraints off of her as Saint took the knife back from me and made the nurses get to their feet.
They were crying and begging but the coldness in Saint's gaze held no mercy for them. They had been a willing part of this. They’d been onboard with kidnapping Tatum, making her suffer, watching the sickness eat away at her strength bit by bit while stealing her blood until eventually it would have killed her. So fuck them.
“You still need me to fly this thing!” the pilot cried, clearly having seen the way this had gone.
"Shut the fuck up," Saint snapped, his words for all of them. "Or I'll throw you out of the door too."
They miraculously quit their petrified pleading just as I managed to pull Tatum into my arms, my throat tightening with the desire to rip this fucking gas mask off of me and lose myself in the taste of her lips.