Another beat passed during which she and the enforcer faced each other. Then Ellory dropped everything she’d been carrying and lunged at their neck.
“Bitch,” they bit out in that androgynous voice as they stumbled into the wall. “You should have listened when—”
“Youlisten,” she snarled back. “I’m not afraid of you. Ofanyof you.”
Ellory threw a punch. She had never punched someone before, but she knew enough to keep her thumb on the outside of her fist. She wanted to crack that stupid mask in half and see who was underneath. They knew who she was, what she was doing, what shecoulddo. She had the name of only one member—Boone—andeven that was a guess. Would the Old Masters be as threatening with their identities laid bare?
Her knuckles throbbed, sending agony shooting up her arm. She’d punched the wall, not that infuriating mask. The enforcer had twisted out of her grasp and was sprinting for the stairs while she clutched her aching hand, checking to make sure she hadn’t broken anything.
Enraged yet elated, Ellory raced after them.
Inside the stairwell was silent except for her furious profanities and the pounding of two sets of feet. She hoped her screaming would draw attention from other residents, that the stairs would flood with curious students who would help her catch the intruder. The doors remained closed, the floors beyond still, as if she had once again been cut off from the wider world.
The enforcer leaped over the railings like a comic book villain, keeping at least one flight of stairs between them. Ellory’s lungs burned, and sweat glued her clothes to her body. Her legs, which had gotten more exercise in the last few months than they had in her entire life, were on fire. But she didn’t falter. Her focus had narrowed to a single mission: capture and interrogate.
Fifth floor.
Fourth floor.
Third.
Below, the lobby door swung open with athudthat echoed up the stairwell. The enforcer stopped short, halfway between the second and first floors, trapped between Ellory and—
“Morgan,” said Hudson Graves, and she had never been so happy to see him in her life. “I could hear you cursing from thefront door. What’s going on in here?”
The enforcer decided their chances were better with Ellory andwhirled around to disorient her with the full force of their uncanny lack of expression. Ellory expected her momentum to hurl her directly down into a punch, but instead she was blasted off her feet by an unnatural gust of wind. She landed in a pained heap on the stairs, her arms and legs as limp as a discarded puppet’s. The back of her head ached. The world swam. She could taste blood at the back of her throat.
“Ellory!”
Footsteps approached, each one echoing in her skull like a jackhammer. Everything was too loud and too bright. Her ears were ringing. When had her ears started ringing?
A figure hovered over her—masked and feral with rage. “This endsnow.”
It took her a moment to remember who this was, where she was, and why her sore body had gone cold with fear. They raised their leg, and Ellory realized too late that she was about to be stomped to death in a residence hall’s stairwell with no one but Hudson Graves to watch. Tears stung her eyes. She begged her limbs to move, but the fall had rattled her skull. Her neurons could fire all they wanted. Nothing was listening.
Her final thought, absurdly, was the hope that Aunt Carol followed her dietary plan without Ellory around to nag her. At least one of them deserved to live a long life.
But death didn’t come for her. Instead, Hudson did.
Fire erupted in the stairwell, the indigo and violet of the hottest part of a blaze. Their shadows flickered against the wall. Flames twisted around the handrail, bolting like a snake in the grass. One minute, the enforcer’s foot was speeding toward her skull. The next minute, fire gripped their limbs, their waist, their chest, like burning chains holding them in place. Smoke fizzled from theirclothes, followed by the sour scent of burning flesh. The enforcer screamed and screamed as the chains expanded until the stranger was completely covered in light.
And then they exploded, leaving behind a scorch mark the exact size and shape of their body. As if they had been burned out of existence.
Buthow?
Head throbbing, Ellory traced the fire back to its source. Hudson stood with his hand on the rail, flames twisting downward from his bicep. As she watched, they retreated from the wall, back to Hudson’s outstretched arm, and then collapsed without so much as a curl of smoke to prove they’d once been there. Hudson was breathing hard, his own eyes so wide, she could see the whites of them from where she was sprawled. His shock didn’t just mirror her own, but somehow exceeded it.
“Ellory,” he repeated, shaking himself. He closed the distance between them and pulled her limp body into his arms. “You’re okay. Everything’s okay.”
It was unclear whether he was talking to her or himself. Either way, she blinked.
“Do I have a concussion,” asked Ellory, “or did you use magic?”
Hudson looked down at her. “You definitely have a concussion.”
“But you used magic?”
“I—” He stared at the wall. His hand adjusted its grip on her legs, holding her more securely against him as he descended the stairs. It wasn’t until now that Ellory realized that whatever fire he’d conjured hadn’t touched her at all. If she hadn’t been looking, she wouldn’t even have known it was there. So much for thermodynamics. “I need to take you to the health center.”
