“You all look human,” Ira said. “Soon enough, the possessor demons won’t. That’ll be enough for most people to overlook you.”
“What?” Storm asked. “What does that mean?”
“It means they perfected the drug,” Ira said. “They’re going to break out.”
“Oh my god,” Alex breathed. “How many?”
Ira’s eyes were glassy with unshed tears, his gaze unfocused with remembered horror. “I don’t know.”
The wall became visible first, running alongside the road. They couldn’t see the hole from here, but the smoke was a heavy gray cloud above. Talon barely slowed as his sports car skidded through the open gate. Storm did the same as best as his larger truck would allow.
“Where was Nate?” he asked suddenly.
The admin building, directly up ahead where the circular drive was leading them, was also smoking. One wall had fallen in, and men and women were visible both inside and out. Some had swords, and some hadguns.
“Nate said he was going to talk to Weston,” Alex said. “He would’ve been around back, where the jail is. We have no idea if he’d still be there, though.”
“I’m going there,” Storm said, stopping crookedly at the edge of the drive behind Talon’s car. “I have to find him.”
“We’ll help you get there,” Luke said as they all spilled from the truck. Talon, Alex, and Shadrach joined them. They all left the sheaths behind and turned toward the broken building.
Screams and shouts filled the air, interspersed with demonic snarls and guttural hisses. Thepopandcrackof gunfire set Storm’s teeth on edge. The demons had broughtguns? Guns gave them too much of an advantage. It would be all too easy for Nathan to take a stray bullet. He’d never had Storm’s blood to help him heal. A bullet would kill him. Hell, a bullet to the head or heart would still kill any of the other Rink humans, but at least they stood a chance if it landed anywhere else. What if Nathan was bleeding out somewhere, and Storm was too late?
Ira grabbed his arm, his eyes wide but his jaw set firmly, shaking Storm from his spiral. “Don’t panic. You can do this.”
Storm nodded. “Okay. Let’s go.”
Chapter22
Nathan
Nathan’s heartpounded like a drum, ringing in his ears. Sweat coated his brow, trickling down his spine. The screams and cries of the battle raging nearby twisted his stomach in knots, but he focused on the huddling figures in front of him.
The children.
When he’d rushed from the jail, he hadn’t gone into battle. He’d gone to the dormitory, ushering all the minors from their rooms and leading them, with a handful of the teaching staff who lived in the compound, to the orphanage. Principal Barker had made a break for the school bus, which was now idling on the back side of the building, hidden from the battle.
“There’s not enough room on the bus for all of us,” one of the teen girls murmured, tears spilling down her cheeks.
“Yes there is,” he whispered fiercely. “You find a seat and let one of the little ones sit in your lap. It’ll be tight, and maybe some of you have to sit in the aisles if you must, but you’ll all fit.” He looked over at Barker. “Get them to a safe house. Don’t stop for anything. If the back gate is shut, you drive right through it. Understand?”
Barker nodded. “I understand.”
One by one, they ushered the children onto the bus. As promised, the little ones sat in the older kids’ laps. The oldest teenagers sat in the aisle. Everyone was silent. Only soft sniffles and careful whispers filled the air.
On the steps of the bus, Barker turned to look at him, his eyes wide behind his wired frames. “What are you going to do?”
“Go help the others, now that I know the children are okay,” he said, stepping back. “Go, go, go. Get them out of here.”
Barker turned away, closing the bus doors and taking the wheel. Nathan waited, his heart in his throat, until the bus disappeared over the hill toward the back gate. They’d be okay. The demons came from the front. When he could no longer hear the engine, he knew they’d made it, and a sigh of relief left him. It didn’t matter what happened to him now. He could throw himself into the battle, and if he died today, he’d know he’d done the right thing.
He just wished he could see Storm one more time.
He broke into a run toward the administrative building. Before he reached it, the back door flew open, and a blond figure tumbled out onto the grass, his sword flying from his grip. A stranger with black eyes followed him out the door, aiming a handgun at him.
Nathan didn’t have a weapon—he’d left his in his car when he’d brought Weston to the jail earlier that afternoon—so he rushed forward, grabbing the stranger’s wrists and pushing the gun up just as the woman pulled the trigger. She fired into the air rather than at the prone paladin on the ground.
“Sword!” Nathan shouted.
