Eli had joined the comms. He was angrier than I had ever heard him, talking to Alex. Eli was claiming that we either had another mole, or someone even better than Alex (Reach and his possible return? I remembered the Money Honey comment) had drilled into comms, or the entire security system was compromised. Alex said to him, “Janie has a different thought.” One of them cut the feed on the general channel. My thought was the time scrying, which we weren’t sharing with my own people. Just in case.
The plan was for all the SUVs to converge again on U.S.-11, as we entered the outskirts of Slidell, heading toward Front Street. One of the DQ’s SUVs appeared. Then another. Three out of four in front of us. Where was the other one? The one with Florence, in her coffin.
Mismatched, brightly painted motorcycles raced in behind my SUV, enemy bikes, the riders firing weapons. The attackers might be great shots, but the car armor was built to resist all small-arms fire, and decrease the effectiveness of even bigger stuff, up to a small rocket. The crotch-rockets wove and danced, two of our riders, on white bikes, fired back, but the chance of hitting their targets was low.
“No collateral damage,” I demanded into my mic. “Alex, tell the motorcycle protection to peel off.”
“Belay that order,” Bruiser said. “Countermand that.”
I blinked.Belay?
“Team Tango,” Bruiser said. “Cut out all civilian vehicles.”
“Copy that,” team Tango’s leader said. Sugar Tit. I was pretty sure it was Sugar Tit. “Let’s ride, boys and girls. Traffic laws are for sissies.”
“Traffic laws arenotfor sissies!” I said.
No one responded.
I changed it, repeating, “No collateral damage.”
No one countermanded the order this time, and I got some muttered “Copy, no collateral damage” in reply.
In the rearview, I saw a civilian car dodge a motorcycle and hit an electric pole. The airbags deployed. So much for “no collateral damage.” I’d need to make sure the vehicle was replaced.Dang it.
We entered Slidell city proper. Citizens scattered.
I felt a working from outside, magic prickling over my skin. Comms cut out. Static sounded for too long before Alex came back on. He was cursing, trying to find a workaround. I heard him say, “Magic interf—” and then he was gone again. “Got it,” he said, and I heard voices shouting and giving info. We couldn’t afford to lose comms, not now, but—
Comms went down again. This time Alex didn’t come back on. Freaking dang magic.
I looked back to see SUVs behind us in the suddenly decreasing traffic. Spotted Big Evan’s head and body and Molly’s and Angie Baby’s faces in the vehicle behind mine, about fifty feet back, Bruiser driving.
A beige van pulled from a side street behind my vehicle, cutting off the others. Swerving. Orange magic burst from it, orange energies, tinted with a slimy green.
Each vehicle behind me was hit with a working, except Molly and Angie Baby’s. The attack parted and went around that vehicle. Their SUV was fully engulfed in Angie’s raw blue-white witch power, so intense I could have seen it with human eyes. The raw magic coalesced, shimmering into Big Evan and Molly’s movinghedge.
Raw magic meant Angie was powering her mom and dad’s working.
The orange blast coalesced and whipped-ricocheted our way. It hit our vehicle. Hitus.
The pain was so intense it was like getting tased and flayed all at once. I felt as if my skin sloughed to the floorand my bones bled. The witch twins and Wrassler screamed in pain. From somewhere far away, Eli sent a shaft of cool quietness into me. Time did that battlefield change. Slowed. Slowed.
The SUV engine spluttered. The vehicle rocked as if it hit something. Skewed in a circle as if it slid on ice.
As if moving in slow motion, I rammed against the side window. The front airbags deployed. The SUV encased in the blue glow raced past, Bruiser driving. Our eyes met for an instant. His were wide and broken. He thought I was going to die. But he was saving the children. I gave a nod, and then he was gone. It was the right call.
CHAPTER 11
Her Skin Caught Fire
The orange magic surrounded me. It was splattered with thousands of green motes. It slashed and carved inside me, like claws. Grabbed the place where the silver haze of my magic resided. It sliced deep.
My skinwalker energies didn’t defend, didn’t seem to know how to defend. But I had other power, other defenses. If I could make them work without the crown on my head. I thought aboutle breloque. Drew on the Dark Queen power that was mine, and felt it gather inside me, a rising tide of light and heat and frigid cold. I could... With a thought, the energies formed into a silver point. “Yes,” I said. I thrust the silver point into the orange energies. My power pierced the assault. Energy exploded out of me.
I shifted. Fast. It felt as if I was being turned inside out.
I opened my eyes, seeing my hands. Knobby, long fingered. Half-form.
