I grabbed my facemask from where I’d hooked it on my belt and slid it over my head. It wasn’t sealed, but it was enough to keep me moving long enough to save everyone.
Chapter 37
Brooke
I couldn’t breathe.Couldn’t watch. But I couldn’t look away either.
Rav charged toward a cloud of what might be deadly vapor.
And I was too far behind to stop him.
Was the misdirection that it was being deployed aboveground instead of from the sewers? Or that it was aerosolized Greek Fire instead of liquid?
My boots slipped on the grass-covered steps as I ran after him. The white mist expanded outward from the golden phoenix, horribly beautiful in the stage lights. The crowd cheered. They all thought it was part of the show. They had no idea they might be watching the beginning of a massacre.
Rav vaulted the stage barrier in one fluid motion, landing in a crouch. The mist enveloped him immediately. My stomach churned, bile rising up my throat.
No. No. No. No!
“Rav!” I screamed, probably deafening everyone on my open comms. But they didn’t matter.Hedid.
He hadn’t sealed his mask properly. He was sacrificing himself for me again.Not again! Not again!
“It’s not burning, Brooke!” His voice cut through my earpiece and my terror simultaneously.
My boot hit the grass wrong, and I slid, falling hard on my ass. But he was alive! He was all right! I leaped back onto my feet and continued after him.
If that’s not the Greek Fire, where is it?
He crossed the stage in three strides and drove his fist into the masked emcee’s jaw. The man crumpled backward, and Rav landed on top of him, his facemask springing off. The two men grappled on the stage, fists flying.
Rav’s got this. Don’t worry about him. You have other priorities.
I hit the barrier seconds later, using my momentum to vault over rather than climb. The podium holding the phoenix was at least ten feet high. I couldn’t reach the statue. Instead, I lowered my shoulder and slammed into the podium with everything I had.
The impact rattled through my bones, but the statue toppled. It hit the stage and broke apart—not with the heavy thud of gold, but with the tinny crash of cheap alloy I could barely hear over the dimmed music.
I yanked a test kit from my pack, swiped the nearest wing, and stuffed it into the pouch. Crack. Shake. Flick. The chemical indicators didn’t change color. I ran to one of the spots where the mist was coming from and tested the condensed liquid gathered around the opening. Still nothing.
“There’s no Greek Fire here at all!” I shouted into comms, relief and fury warring in my chest. “And the statue isn’t even fucking gold.”
“Bloody hell!” muttered Will. “Rav, Brooke, I’ve got a drone above you. I count six men headed your way. Police are also approaching. You need to get out of there.”
The crowd surged, half of them forward, cheering on Rav’s attack and the destruction of the prop, as though it were all part of the performance. Others—too many others—started yelling and pushing for the exit.
There was going to be a stampede.
“You’ve got ten minutes, maybe fifteen,” continued Will, “before the police arrive.”
In my earpiece, chaos erupted. Jayce swore as someone shoved past her. Drew tried talking his way past a security guard who’d finally confronted him at the fireworks displays. Malcolm and Scarlett said they would distract the Fenix men headed our way.
“Rav,” I said, darting over to where he was standing after his fight. One he’d clearly won. “It’s not here. We need to figure out where the egg?—”
Rav hauled the fallen emcee upright by his shirt. Blood ran from the man’s nose and busted lip, but without the mask on, I immediately recognized him from the photo in the robot dog’s memory.
Enzo. One of Fenix’s captains. The one with the scar across his face. The one who’d tried to kill almost every member of the Reynolds team. He laughed, showing red-stained teeth. “You’re too late.”
“Too late for what?” Rav’s fists rolled against Enzo’s collar, pulling him closer.
