One with a cheetah-like head gives a jaw-cracking yawn. That might be a good start, although one of the hunters flinches at the movement.
The lead hunter jerks his attention back to us. “It doesn’t look very helped.”
Jonah steps forward, the new sorcerer he’s been trying to work with at his heels—hanging back as if she thinks she might want to hide behind him. More uneasy frustration skitters through my nerves.
We only want to make everyone happy. That’s all Peri hasevertried to do. Why can’t the humans just let us?
Why do they always have to boss everyone around, no matter who it hurts?
Jonah holds up his hands in a placating gesture. “Dealing with a mess this big takes time. Like Peri said, we’re working on it—doing what we can to clean up the city. I’m as human as you are, and so is she.” He indicates the other sorcerer. “Would you really want us to stop?”
The leader of the hunters narrows his eyes. “Do you really think the monsters are going to fix things instead of breaking them more? I hear dozens of humans have already gotten hurt.”
Raze’s jaw tightens as if he’s suppressed a wince.
Hail’s hands clench at his sides, but he flexes his fingers out of the fists and lifts his chin. “We aren’t a hive mind. Some of the creatures are running wild, and the rest of us are doing our best to rein them in. And doing a pretty good job of it.” He points to the creatures which have gone back to looking more sleepy than scary in the grips of my illusion.
One of the hunters snorts.
The leader lets out a cold laugh. “I’ve dealt with hundreds of you fiends in my time. There’s nothing natural or safe about any of you. Get away from the city, or we’ll make sure you do.”
Jonah frowns. “Does Colonel Hueber know that you’re going around threatening beings he’s approved to pitch in?”
The other man sneers. “Mr. Military Big Shot welcomed us and said he was happy to have more people around who can ‘control’ the monsters. It didn’t sound like he liked having any of them on the loose. He didn’t lay down any rules about where we could step in.”
I’m guessing the colonel didn’t even think about the fact that some of us shadowkind are actively working to protect the city and the people who fled it. He seems to have tried as much as possible to pretend we don’t exist.
Maybe he thinks the hunters would do a better job cleaning up the city anyway. He might have not mentioned there were some beings they shouldn’t hassle hoping that they’d run us off and he wouldn’t have to worry about us anymore.
Raze’s posture has slumped, but he speaks up in a low voice. “We want the same things you do—to keep the humans around here safe. To get them back to their homes.”
“Well, forgive me for not believing that,” the leader says in a tone that’s not at all apologetic, and gestures to his colleagues.
Those with whips unfurl the gleaming lengths like slashes of light—light I know will sear right into my being if one hits my body, even in my ephemeral state if I move into the shadows. The two with nets shake them looser, ready to throw.
The leader glowers at us. “Get out of here,now, or you’ll regret it.”
Peri pipes up with her unshakeable good cheer, though little trickles of fear tingle into me through our bond. “Now, hold on. There’s no need to make this a fight. Why don’t we all go talk to Colonel Hueber again, and he’ll?—”
“I told you togo,” the hunter snaps, and with those words, his colleagues barge toward us.
I’m not totally sure why I react so swiftly. Maybe it’s the signs of distress in my friends—Raze stiffening his limbs rather than bracing to spring, Hail shoving his hands downward rather than raising them to cast out his icy magic.
They don’t want to prove these humans right by hurting any of them like they have before.
I can’t let the humans hurt any of us either. Not like the scientists with their iron chains and silver blades. Not like the men and women who yanked me around and dizzied me with pain.
But I have to make sure my powers can reach them.
“Hail,” I say in a sharp whisper. “Can you freeze the metals off them?”
He stares at me for just an instant before resolve hardens his features. His fingers twitch at his sides.
Little snowballs erupt right beneath the silver-and-iron trinkets—and snap their pins off the fabric they’re attached to. As the protective brooches clink against the asphalt, I hurl my illusions forward.
A whirlwind of chaotic images flies up around the hunters. Shadowy shapes soar past them, snapping razor teeth and pinning them with glowing red eyes. Thorny brambles shoot from the road and the sidewalks as if to pen them in.
They could walk right through the illusions if they tried, but the visuals look real enough that they stall in their tracks.
