I rush through the crowd, placing my hands on the head of every soldier I pass, pushing my electric energy into their brains, their eyes, and gaping mouths lighting blue from the inside of their skulls, flashing before smoke seeps from every orifice.
There are still hundreds of soldiers, and I know I won’t be able to take them all down, but I’m not alone.
Another breath, and Erich is right at my back, so close I can feel the warmth of his body. He follows my every move,mirroring me as I maneuver my way to Lowe across the room. Even this far away, the blood that covers her face and hands is clear, her wild smile not something I’ve ever seen on her.
The density of people seems to grow until I’m squeezing through the crowd, turning my body sideways to make my way across the room, all the while alternating kills with Erich, Laurant now the closest to my back.
When we reach Arlowe at last, she’s hissing like a feral beast, her purple eyes wild as she lets out a howl of laughter and tosses three heads in the corner of the room, their necks cut almost completely smooth, blood oozing and trickling from the force of being pitched.
When she sees me, she grins, white teeth stained pink, and a pressure in my chest grows painful.
What the fuck are we doing?
An arm wraps around my waist, and back, the ocean breeze and bluebell scent that follows the movement envelops me in a calming energy as I’m pulled into Laurant’s chest. He feels my worry, knows every emotion that flows through me.
That’s when I realize, it isn’t just me he can feel.
That frightened expression on his face was only partly his own reaction.
I look up into his eyes, my hands lightly gripping his jaw, thumbs rubbing beneath his eyes tenderly.
When Erich rubs my scalp with his fingertips, and I’m touching both my Alphas at the same time, something inside me shifts. This coiling beast in my chest yawns and stretches like a house cat, claws extended and ready to defend. An eerie calm settles over me.
That’s when my ears begin to ring.
And not just mine, by the way everyone in the room gasps and holds their ears.
Then I see them: An Alpha and an Omega floating into the room above us all. The Alpha’s arms are spread wide at his sides, his mouth is open.
He must be the one causing this terrible sound.
The floor begins to rumble beneath our feet, and in a blink, thick vines flow into the room from the back door, nearly filling the space. There are screams as soldiers are lifted, the vines wrapped around limbs, dangling them high above the ground.
Every Cursed still alive has the same plan and backs up against the walls, clearing the center of the foyer, pulling with us any nearby Beta defectors, although the vines appear to somehow know friend from foe.
There’s a clatter as weapons fall from soldiers’ grasps to the floor below, then the vines all grow gruesome, large thorns the size of machetes. The screams are blood-curdling as soldiers are pulled apart, limbs yanked from the joints like a child playing too roughly with their action figures.
Only these men aren’t toys.
Blood and sinew rain down from the sky, and my forearms cover my head with a gasp, but nothing touches me.
I blink up to see the gore hovering but flattened by gravity, like plates of glass shimmering with a rainbow of colors surround us, blocking their fall.
It isn’t until everything falls startlingly quiet for a few moments that the bodies still held by vines are dropped and swept away from those of us huddled along the walls. As quick as they filled the room, those vines retreat, slithering like fierce snakes out the back door where they came from, the shimmering force holding back the remnants of carnage shifts and moves, dropping blood and bits on top of the body parts already on the ground.
I don’t know how long I stand with my back against the wall, Laurant and Erich on either side of me.
A movement stirs, a murmur grows into chatter as groups of Cursed form, friends, and the unfamiliar. Some of the unknown rebellion members mingle with students and the Beta defectors. Then a familiar face catches my eye coming in from the front door.
“Mira!”
Careful to avoid slipping in gore while keeping my gaze averted as best I can, I run to my friend, who somehow appears both gorgeous and disheveled, her dark hair flowing in waves about her shoulders, those silver eyes beaming with happiness at the sight of me with Lowe at my side.
We both embrace her tightly.
“I knew you’d make it back,” I whisper, swallowing the lump of emotion in my throat.
“She wouldn’t shut up about it.” Arlowe’s tone is a mix of sarcasm and tears. She steps back and smacks Mira’s upper arm.
