“Go!” he orders, and I pull out the stopper to my source and shove the magic that’s now bleeding out of me at the fuckers in our way. Prek and I push the last handful of feet back to the line, my magic leaving a trail of carnage rippling out away from us as we go.
I watch panicked as Prek tries to focus, internally screaming for him to hurry up, and I almost crow in celebration when I watch the line take a hold of him and Elon and then fiercely yank them away.
Success rockets through me.
They did it. They got out.
I revel in the peace that washes over me for the briefest of seconds, and then I fold up the relief and happiness coursing through me and chuck it in some far dark recess of my mind as I turn to wait for Rogan. I try to feel for the ley line around me as much as I can, the fighting now background noise as I will myself to jump me and Rogan out of here just as soon as his fingertips touch mine.
It’s like watching someone run through three feet of snow when a polar bear is chasing them. The Contegomancer is closing in, and even as quickly as Rogan is moving, I can see he’s not moving fast enough. I let go of the hum of the line and focus on the polar bear instead.
My movements are sluggish and jerky. I can feel the effects of blood loss and exhaustion start to kick in. I’ve been in worse shape though, and I know I still have enough in the tank to get us out of here. With a rabid growl, I clear the enemy from around me, attacking their blood and their bones to ensure I’m buying myself enough time to end this once and for all. Magic pools in my belly as I track the High Council member with my eyes like he’s prey.
I can still see him in his swanky suit in the interrogation room at Order headquarters, thinking he’s the shit because he runs in high circles that he’s deluded himself into believing are untouchable. I would give anything right now to cut him down to size. To make him realize that picking this fight was the biggest mistake of his pitiful, useless life. I want to look in his eyes as understanding dawns that there’s no escaping my wrath.
I thrust my pool of magic out. I send every ounce of power I possess, knowing I’ll only get one chance. I grit my teeth and wait for the perfect moment, my magic surging and searching for my target. Sweat drips down the back of my neck, and nausea collects in my stomach. Pain pulses out of my wounds, but I try to ignore it all and concentrate.
Five more seconds, Lennox.
You’ll have him in four…
I see the moment the Contegomancer senses the rush of power I pushed out into the throng. He smiles as though he knows I’m coming for him, and I feel his acidic crackle through the air as he prepares for my attack.
Three more seconds…
What this asshole will never understand though is that there are far greater forces in this world than vengeance and rage. I could try to kill him. I could give everything I have in an effort to make him pay. It’s what he would do, and what he clearly expects of me, but fuck him. I choose love.
Two…
I’ll feel his death on my hands another day.
One...
Rogan’s bones practically sing to me, begging me to claim them and safeguard them always. I wrap my magic around him, my focus absolute and my will undeniable. All at once, I yank my magic back like it’s a rubber band that’s been pulled too tight for too long. Rogan is jerked forward, my power in control and calling him to me. He flies toward the line, barreling through Order members brutally, as the Contegomancer realizes what I’ve done and bellows out an enraged snarl.
Like the body snatcher I’m proving to be, I snatch Rogan from the danger hunting his back and pull him to safety. He’s feet away from me when a deranged cackle forces goose bumps up my arms and a shiver to run down my spine. The danger in the sound has me looking back to the Contegomancer, just in time for him to pull the trigger on the gun he’s pointing at me.
Everything slows and I can’t scream, or move, or react. Every ounce of power I have is focused on pulling Rogan to me. He’s feet away, and I risk trying to call the line, hoping somehow we can still prevail.
Rogan slams into me with a pained grunt at the same time the bullet does. I fall back into a ferocious scream of outrage and grief, my lamentation lifted up into the air like a haunting howl as the round pierces the side of my head, and the world and its deep humming all around me cease to exist.
* * *
Agasp tears out of me, and I sit up in a dazed panic, trying to make sense of what’s going on.
“You’re okay, Lennox. I’m here. I’ve got you,” Rogan consoles, his large hand brushing hair out of my face, while his other presses against my shoulder, trying to coax me into lying back down.
Adrenaline hammers through me, and I look around frantically, my brain not processing what it is I’m seeing. Something jostles the mattress I’m lying on, and I bounce up and down as though…
“Are we in a car?” I ask, bewildered, my voice a dusty croak.
Before I can even think about a glass of water, a bottle of it is handed to me. I chug it down, my mouth, throat, and body suddenly desperate. It’s gone sooner than I want, but just as a disgruntled whimper starts to sneak out of my mouth, I’m handed another open bottle of water. I drink this one slower, which is to say I drink three quarters of it in two seconds flat and then sip on the last remaining fourth like I’m the model of demure and lady-like behavior at all times.
I instantly feel better and more alert now that I’m hydrated. I look around to see that we’re in a large Suburban, the back of which is fitted with a mattress and Rogan, and wherever we are, it’s dark as pitch outside. I look up to see who’s driving, hoping it might be Prek or Elon, but to my surprise, it’s Riggs and Viv, the two alphas of the lycan pack near Rogan’s house.
Riggs meets my eyes in the rearview mirror, his gaze twinkling with merriment, but he doesn’t say anything as Rogan pulls me closer to him, his touch stealing away my focus. I look back at him, puzzled, as I try to piece together how we’re here and why.
“What’s going on?” I ask, my voice low and careful as I search Rogan’s face for any hint of what’s going on. “How did we get away?”
