you led your saints & sinners

you wouldn't be the first renegade to need somebody

"No-" The word was a whisper as Flora realized what it was Pierce meant to do. Naively she thought that because she had been the one Dahlia had wanted him to go after, that Jack wouldn't be targeted. Only in a cruel reversal of what the captain had feared about Flora being used to get to him, now the Doubletake was the one whose affections were being used against her.

"-JACK," unable to help the panic that rendered her scream shrill and almost ear-splitting, Flora endured the seconds and thundered heartbeats between the moment the blade sliced into Jack and when she next saw him take a breath, the sight of which had her gasping with a brief spasm of relief.

"You asshole." Flora's eyes flicked to Pierce—his lazy smile and effortless power—and a cold rage began to burn beneath the fear, melting away some of the ice that had kept her from reaching for her daggers. She'd been so inaccurate lately that she could barely trust herself to hit anything, let alone someone as fast as Pierce, but with the barrier around them, she really had no other options. If she couldn't be accurate, she'd be relentless; she'd keep Pierce occupied, make herself the target, anything to keep him from hurting Jack again.

Lifting her hand, Flora flung one of her poisoned daggers, aiming for Pierce's chest.