But still – James was incapacitated, and he didn’t have the syringe at her neck anymore.
“Rhys!” she cried, running to him and throwing herself into his arms.
“Maisie,” he murmured, pulling her close and burying his face in her hair. Despite the psychotic secret agent writhing inpain only a few meters away, she felt safe, like nothing in the world could hurt her ever again.
Rhys pulled back from her, his reluctance to do so clear in every part of his body. “Are you okay?” he asked, worriedly checking her over.
“I’m fine,” she said breathlessly. “Shaken, but fine. And you?”
“Never better,” he growled. “Or I will be, once I’m done with this arsehole.”
He turned, and Maisie followed his gaze to where the syringe had been knocked. At the same moment, she was aware of James straightening up, swearing under his breath – and looking in the same direction.
“Shit,” she muttered, as Rhys and James both launched themselves toward the syringe. Rhys had the obvious advantage of not having just been kneed in the balls, but James was closer, and the two of them reached it at the same time, both diving for it – and sending it skittering across the rooftop before it tumbled down a set of steps.
Maisie heard the distinct tinkle of breaking glass, as, presumably, the syringe of wyvern venom was smashed into a thousand pieces, spilling its deadly contents into a not-very-injectable puddle. And clearly, the other two heard it as well, because James’s face turned thunderous.
“That isit,” he snarled, before his body shimmered, and he shifted into –
Oh. That’s not good.
Maisie ducked behind what looked like some sort of air-conditioning unit as the – the giant fuckingpig, with giant fuckingtusks– barreled across the rooftop, shockingly fast for a beast of its size. Rhys barely managed to leap out of the way as it charged him, before it skidded to a stop and turned, grunting angrily.
Shit,Maisie thought.If he comes for me, I’m not going to be able to outrun him.
What she could do besides hide behind the air conditioner and hope for the best, she wasn’t really sure. She hadn’t really had ‘get chased across a rooftop by an enormous wild boar’ on her bingo card for today, so she was feeling a little underprepared… but, well, she was pretty sure she’d already managed to win Weird Shit Bingo for the week, so it didn’t really matter.
Rhys, she noticed, was doing some shimmering of his own – and, okay, that made a whole lot of sense. If she had to choose whether she wanted to be saved from a rooftop by a heroic griffin or an enraged boar, she knew which one she’d put her money on.
She edged around the unit, trying to maneuver into a position where Rhys could pick her up and fly her to safety before the boar could get to her. She knew from experience that it took the griffin a couple of seconds to properly achieve lift-off, and anything could happen in that time.
The boar hissed, feinting at the griffin with its enormous, razor-sharp tusks that looked way worse than anything Maisie thought she would find on an actual wild pig, while the griffin darted about, doing its best to avoid the attacks while swiping at the beast with its talons. She wouldn’t have thought that a boar could remotely be a match for a griffin – and perhaps it wouldn’t have been, if Rhys had simply been able to rise into the skies.
But no, he had to stay grounded in order to protecther– and this boar wasnasty, the size of a small car and heavily muscled, and it wasn’t encumbered by things likemoralsorfair playortrying to make sure an innocent human doesn’t get tossed over the side of the building.
Rhys circled closer to where Maisie was sheltering behind the unit, his noble eagle’s head never turning away from the huge boar that James had become, and she knew that they’d have tomake their move. She could hear the pig’s furious snorting as it built up a head of steam, readying itself to charge again – and it was off before she could move into position for Rhys to grab her and take off.
We’re going to have to survive this charge. There’s no time to escape.
The boar’s tusks gleamed in the sunlight, horribly sharp and curved, and Maisie’s stomach dropped.
Before, the boar had looked like it was trying to subdue Rhys – but this time, its murderous intent was clear in the angle of its tusks, the rage in its eyes.
It wants to kill him.
Rhys, it seemed, had had the same realization, and was trying to dart to the side – but one of his wings hit the air-conditioning unit, slowing him down, and Maisie realized in horror that he wouldn’t be able to get out of the way in time. He was going to get gored.
In desperation, she looked frantically around the rooftop while patting her pockets, trying to find something, anything at all that she could use to help him.
Nothing.
Unless –
It was a stupid, hopeless idea. But it was all she had.
She’d been given a visitor’s pass on a long, polyester lanyard when she’d been shown into the building this morning. She hadn’t given it much mind – but now, it was the only thing she had on her that could evenpotentiallybe used as a weapon.
It’s not much. But it’ll have to do.
