Fabian
It’s chaos in the city square. The crowd surges closer and I wield my blood sword, trying desperately to scare them off, but the blank-eyed stares of the mob tell me that no one’s home. If the threat of getting stabbed by a three-foot sword made of blood isn’t enough to get them to pull back, nothing will.
Both Silver and Roscoe go flying as they’re tackled by members of the angry horde. Roscoe’s closer to me, so I check on him first, dropping to a crouch.
“You hurt, man?” I use my magic to check him over, still raw from the last time I had to inspect him like this—when he was bleeding out and a stone’s throw from death.
He shakes his long hair out of his eyes and sits up. “Fuck. No, I hit my shoulder. Bruised, but not too damaged.”
“Good.” I jump up and spin around, heading for Silver. But before I can get to her, the ring on my finger grows hotter and hotter until it’s burning not just my skin but it feels like it’s searing into the bone.
I’m about to tear it off my finger, but I’m distracted by Silver. She’s still on the ground, the crowd swarming closer to her while she rolls onto her back.
“Stop. Don’t move any closer,” she shouts.
And the crowd just... stop moving.
They fall silent, freezing in place.
“Holy shit, Silver. Did you do that?”
She pants, staring up at me with wide eyes. “Er, I think so. I’m not sure how long I can hold it, though.” Her hands are shaking already with the strain of holding so many of them at bay.
Ro’s fall has disrupted his illusion, which means Simpson’s no longer distracted by the chaos.
“That’senough,pet,” he spits at Silver.
She’s vulnerable right now, her attention all focused on holding off the crowd. He’s faster than me and crazy strong.
He darts forward, heading straight for Silver.
I throw myself forward into his path and somehow I’m the one whose throat he clutches, not hers.
That’s all that matters. I won’t let this fucker touch her.
He squeezes my throat, lifting me fully off my feet like I weigh no more than a bag of sugar and I fight to claw him off.
I can’t breathe. My attention tunnels until all I can focus on is Simpson’s bared teeth as he glares up at me. He seems annoyed at my presence, as though I’m a bug he longs to smoosh.
“Fabian!” Silver yells my name, her voice breaking through the fog forming in my mind.
“It’s... fine,” I choke out.
It’s far from fucking fine, but she doesn’t need to know that. She needs to concentrate on the crowd or they’ll tear her apart.
I can sense Simpson’s about two seconds away from snapping my neck and black spots are starting to form in my vision. Never a good sign.
Pushing down the panic that wants to claw its way through me, I let my body go slack. I need to move fast or I’m not going to make it out of this. And as soon as he’s done with me, he’ll move on to Silver.
I can’t let that happen.
Things happen quickly after that. I focus my blood magic on Simpson’s arm, cutting off his blood supply so that his hand goes slack and I drop to the ground. Landing heavily on my knees, I’m sucking in oxygen desperately as I grasp at his legs and cling to him while he kicks me in the stomach and the kidneys.
Fuck. That hurts.
Ignoring the pain, I cling on like a barnacle and focus my magic into him. Heating his blood from the outside in, until it’sboiling.
He screams and tears me off him, flinging me five feet in the air until I crash down in a heap on the hard ground.
