“You will stay in the car and help from there,” Malik commanded.
“But I won't be able to calm anyone if I can't see them,” I argued. “And we need to calm them. We can't have the Triari hurting a bunch of humans; it will be a political nightmare.”
“You're seriously worried about politics right now?” Everan snapped.
“Politics is what keeps us from war, Everan,” I snapped back. “Of course, I'm worried about it.”
“Very well. We will go but you will not leave my side,” Everan announced. “If you can't calm the humans, I'm twisting you away from the Embassy.”
“Fine,” I agreed.
The other men liked this compromise as well and we started racing out of the corridor and then out of the historic building that housed Dirty Nothings. A government SUV waited at the curb. I glanced at Cyprian in surprise.
“We weren't the only ones who Falcan called,” it was Kyrian who answered my look. “The rest of FEAR is already at the scene.”
We piled into the SUV and our special agent driver stepped on the gas. The vehicle rocketed down the streets of D.C., headlights and strip lights flashing along with its sirens. As we approached the Triari Embassy, traffic thickened and cars were forced to pull to the curbs to get out of our way. D.C. Police had set up a roadblock but they pulled the barrier out of the way when they saw our approach. We slowed to pass, then sped through the empty street beyond until finally screeching to a stop just outside the broken gates of the Triari Embassy.
“It looks as if someone took a battering ram to them,” I murmured.
“A truck.” Malik nodded toward a pickup truck with a smashed grill, parked in front of the Embassy steps. “Let's go.”
We poured out of the SUV and ran for the Embassy, the men surrounding me. The courtyard was empty but clangs, thuds, and the sound of shouting carried out to us through the open front doors.
“Gregory will have to be somewhere nearby to keep the humans under control,” Kyrian noted with a sharp look around the area. “Keep an eye out for a Triari whose mouth glows silver when he speaks.”
“A shiny-mouthed Triari. Sure. No problem,” Cyprian muttered as he flexed his fingers. “I can't wait to drain that motherfucker.”
As we climbed the steps, a gust of wind blew out of the doors, sending humans tumbling toward us like bowling balls. We jumped to either side as a sound wave shot even more humans out of the Embassy.
“Looks like Lily and Leo are inside,” Cyprian noted dryly.
Lily, whose FEAR codename was Tempest, could summon storms, and Leo, codename Maestro, could use his voice as a weapon. Davorin was likely in his Gargoyle form, battering back the mob but Jason, codename Veritas, would be standing aside, waiting to see if he'd be needed. His talent was in making people tell the truth. So, when he went on missions, a gun was his weapon of choice. I hoped he didn't have to start shooting.
Cyprian waved at the groaning humans. “Why don't you calm this group, Amara? Kyrian and I can drain the ones inside until they pass out.”
Thanks to the Fusion, Cyprian could feed on all emotions, not only lust—as all Faulin do—and Kyrian had recently learned that he could compress emotions and feed on them as well. This type of draining was safe for humans in the short term. Their energy would be drained with their emotions and they'd likely pass out. It was only if they continued to be drained, over and over, that things got to be dangerous for them.
“All right.” I agreed and focused on the humans before me.
Malik went with the Rians—as we'd taken to calling Kyrian and Cyprian. He trailed his hand over the back of my neck as he passed by me. His mating mark tingled—a reminder that he was always with me, giving me his strength even when I didn't draw upon it. The sound of crashing ruined the moment, though, compelling Malik and the others to put on speed and the three men disappeared into the Embassy. Everan, however, took up a protective stance at my side as he scanned the courtyard.
I focused on the humans. Their auras were all tainted with streaks of cinnabar fury but also mauve confusion. They were mad but they didn't know why. It had been awhile since I'd worked on human auras. They were far easier to manipulate than say the asha of an elemental heart. I connected with all of them at once and started to smile as amethyst spread easily into the cinnabar. I kept pushing it into their auras until they fell into a deep sleep.
“There,” I declared—feeling a little more confident—and turned to head for the steps. “They're asleep. Let's go inside.”
Everan sent one more sweeping stare around the courtyard before following me. His hesitation put a few feet between us but no one else was there so he didn't seem concerned by the distance. That quickly changed. As I reached the bottom step, I heard a click and a soft murmur come from the side of the building. I stopped and looked toward the sound, as did Everan, and three seconds later, the courtyard was full of Bleiten. Yes, Bleiten.
It shocked me so much that I just gaped at the massive warriors. They weren't in battleform but even in their normal bodies, they were intimidating. These weren't the slimmer courtiers of Abbadon, but instead were warriors dressed for battle in metal armor and leather. Fangs were bared in rugged faces and strong hands pulled deadly swords free of their sheaths.
It took a second for me to process what was happening and then a second longer for me to realize who exactly these Bleiten were. It was the old-fashioned armor that gave them away. They weren't Malik's men or even his father's. They weren't recognized citizens of Hell at all. They were criminals on the lam—warriors from the Fengoth Tribe, under the command of Chief Braxis.
Everan was instantly surrounded and cut off from me. He had no weapon but he wouldn't leave, not with me there, unable to twist.
“Twist!” I screamed at Everan as I turned to run. Maybe if I got to safety, he'd feel confident enough to escape. “I'm okay, Ever. Twist!”
Everan suddenly appeared before me. He stretched out a hand to take mine but as he did, his eyes went wide and horrified. A thick forearm, girded in a vambrace, wrapped around my waist and pulled me back against a solid breastplate, out of Everan's reach. Before I could even scream, a voice whispered in my ear—a familiar voice that resonated with power.
“Don't fight me, Amaranthine,” Braxis commanded. “Be still.”
