The collective alert of impending High Coven intervention sounded from my phone, the noise ear-splitting, like a gong being hit at full force. It called out from every witchcop phone around me.
Jake got his device out first, holding it up for us to see.
A red screen with a clock counting down, ninety seconds until the intervention hit—a mass sleeping spell.
All agents in the area were to stay still and embrace the next stage with the masses, meaning I’d be asleep in just over a minute.
Bollocks to that.
I launched myself forward and cast Hide on myself, barreling through bodies, scrambling up a slope out of the yelling throng.
Jake called after me, but the pounding of my heart drowned him out. I tore across the grassy mounds lining the road, evading the crowds, just about catching Isaac’s descent in the distance—in the north of the city, near the train station.
Pick up the pace!
I reached the edge of a steep slope and went for it, sliding down to the bottom, channeling my inner surfer. Amazingly, I stayed upright, the slope dropping me at the right moment onto the longest curve of Aurora Lane.
Pouring everything into a run, I chewed up theroad, aiming for Rainbow Mile. From there, I’d head for the station and find The Sun.
The sleeping spell flew overhead, a big ball of sparkling blue energy heading for the mansion.
I told myself I’d already cleared its impact radius, but I ran harder just in case.
If I conked out, then no one would be out there to help Isaac.
I wouldn’t stand for it.
I’m coming, Isaac.
You’re going to be alright.
A witchcop car sped up the road, suddenly screeching to a stop.
What the hell?
Dirk climbed out, the most hateful sneer painted on his face.
Damn.
Chapter 38
ISAAC
When I burst out of my prison back into the real world, two shimmering threads attached themselves to my wrists.
Pretty.
They ribboned through the air, linking me to a spectral Tony—the version who’d been inside me. He inspected his wrists, clearly furious he’d been ejected.
In your face, prick!
His unconscious body remained, well, sleeping, his chest rising and falling.
What a shame. I guess I wouldn’t be totally free from him until I rendered the real him a corpse.
Fine by me. But first, it was time to kick some shimmer witch arse.
I bathed the street in sunlight, which brought his buddies to their knees. Spectral Tony stayed upright, though, smirking like the King of Cockiness.
