Page 68 of Magic Mischief


Font Size:

I cradled Mishka's broken body in my arms, a rage like nothing I'd felt in over a century burning through my veins. Blood—his blood—soaked my clothes, its metallic scent triggering every protective instinct my bear possessed.

His skin was too pale, his breathing too shallow, and for the first time in decades, I felt genuine fear gripping my heart. Not fear for myself, but for this impossibly brave, foolish young man who'd risked everything to save me.

"What happened to him?" I snarled at Yuri, not bothering to mask the dangerous edge in my voice.

My second-in-command stood before me, his usually stoic expression cracked with something I rarely saw on him—concern, maybe even guilt. The fact that Yuri, of all people, looked shaken only intensified the dread pooling in my gut.

"He connected to every system in the facility," Yuri explained, his eyes never leaving Mishka's bloodied face. "Simultaneously. Security, power, communications—all of it. I tried to stop him, but..." He trailed off, jaw tightening. "He wouldn't listen. Said he needed to make sure you had a clear path out."

I pulled Mishka closer, feeling his shallow breath against my neck like the flutter of a dying bird's wings. His blood was still flowing—from his nose, his ears, smeared across his pale lips.

The bear beneath my skin roared in anguish, demanding vengeance for what had been done to someone it now recognized as ours.

"How long has he been like this?" I demanded, my enhanced senses cataloging every detail of Mishka's condition. The electric pulse that normally radiated from him—the unique signature I'd grown to recognize—was dangerously faint.

"He started bleeding about ten minutes in," Yuri said, his voice unusually soft. "By the time we reached you, he'd pushed far beyond what any human should be able to withstand. He kept saying he had to finish it—had to make sure O'Rourke couldn't rebuild."

The ground beneath us trembled slightly, a warning of what was to come. My ears, more sensitive than any human's, picked up the distant sound of structural supports beginning to fail deep within the facility.

Mishka's final gift to O'Rourke was about to detonate.

"We need to move. Now." I adjusted my grip, cradling Mishka's head against my shoulder with one hand while supporting his limp body with the other. His hair was matted with sweat and blood, his skin clammy to the touch.

Yuri nodded sharply, already signaling to the extraction team waiting near the tree line. The cold night air carried the scent of approaching rain, mixing with the acrid smell of smoke beginning to billow from the facility behind us.

"Medic's ready at the rendezvous point," Yuri said, falling into step beside me as we moved toward the waiting vehicles.

I could feel Mishka's heartbeat against my chest, erratic but persistent. That stubborn heart of his was still fighting, still refusing to give up. I found myself matching my breathing to his, as if I could somehow lend him my strength through proximity alone.

The ground shook more violently beneath our feet and my bear instincts registered the danger before my human mind could process it. I pivoted, turning my back toward the facility and curling my body around Mishka just as the first concussive blast hit.

The force of it rippled through the air, carrying debris and a wave of heat. I hunched lower, shielding Mishka with my larger frame, using my body as a living barrier between him andany flying fragments. My clothes caught several small pieces of shrapnel that would have pierced his already damaged body.

"Move!" I ordered the team, not bothering to look back at what I knew would be the beginning of the facility's total destruction. Mishka had been thorough in his sabotage—a fact that filled me with both pride and terror at what it had cost him.

As we reached the edge of the tree line, another explosion rocked the compound, this one larger than the first. The air pressure changed, my ears popping from the force of it.

I curled more tightly around Mishka, registering with alarm how unresponsive he remained despite the chaos.

"He did this," Yuri said, voice tinged with something like awe as we paused momentarily to look back. Flames were now visible, licking up the side of the main building as secondary explosions continued inside. "One man, with his mind alone."

"He's not just 'one man,'" I growled, resuming our pace toward the extraction vehicles. My bear was fully awake now, pacing restlessly beneath my skin, demanding I get Mishka to safety, heal him, protect him.

The intensity of these instincts would have alarmed me under other circumstances—I hadn't felt my animal this possessive in decades.

Another tremor, stronger than the previous ones, nearly knocked us off balance. I adjusted my grip on Mishka, noticing with growing horror the fresh trickle of blood from his ear. Whatever damage he'd done to himself wasn't stopping just because he was unconscious.

"If he dies because of me—" I couldn't finish the sentence. The words caught in my throat, trapped behind a century of carefully maintained control that was now crumbling like the facility behind us.

Yuri gave me a sharp look. In our long association, he'd never seen me rattled, not like this. "He won't," he said with more confidence than I felt. "He's stronger than he looks."

We reached the waiting SUVs, the extraction team already loading equipment and securing the perimeter. I refused to relinquish Mishka to the medic who approached, instead carrying him directly to the lead vehicle.

"We're running out of time," I said, feeling the earth shake beneath us again. Whatever chain reaction Mishka had started was accelerating. "Get everyone loaded. Now."

As I carefully positioned Mishka in the backseat, arranging his broken body as gently as possible, I became aware of a wetness on my face that wasn't blood or sweat. I couldn't remember the last time I'd shed tears—perhaps sometime in the previous century.

I brushed them away before anyone could notice, my focus returning to Mishka's pale face. "You will not die," I whispered fiercely, too low for anyone else to hear. "I won't allow it,malenkiy, not when I've just found you."