CHAPTERTWENTY
“Cassander’s here? I thought he didn’t make it,” I asked in confusion, my arms teetering in the air like a child pretending to be a plane.
Finn didn’t answer me, his eyes panicked. The white tiger raced to the exit. He demanded, “Open the door, Choo-Baby-Choo.”
The door whipped open.
Finn stumbled down the stairs, his head turning left and right. He shouted in astonishment, “Cassander, don’t do it!”
I shook my head over his shocking exit—and no golems climbing inside the train—and ran to the door. I poked my head outside, my eyes tracking Finn as he raced across the lawn and rock. The golems—every single golem—were arching their backs, as if they were in excruciating pain.
Mr. King charged after Finn, his own body covered in blood streaks, his features etched in pure horror. He bellowed a plea, “Cass, stop! You don’t have to do this!”
The other four corporate kings’ heads turned in the racing men’s direction, following their trajectory with their gazes. Their jaws dropped in shock. Then they were sprinting across the lawn too, swerving in and out of the golem obstacles.
Mr. Cooper leapt through the air, a blur of gray hair flashing in the morning sky, catching up with Finn and Mr. King as he landed in a run, his legs never stopping. He waved his hands frantically. “Cass, we can find another way! She’s still safe!”
There was a man standing on top of a small hill.
His silver fur jacket whipped in the wind around him, the tall grass up to his leather covered knees. The eyes of the man were pure white, no color whatsoever. His palms were turned upward toward the mansion, his fingers spread wide and curled like claws. The ground around his feet wobbled like small waves on a shore.
It was Cassander.
He was wicked in his determination, his jaw clenched tight, his chin tucked down, and watching the house with those spooky white eyes.
And he wasn’t listening to the others.
Mr. King stopped in his tracks, his chest heaving as the others flew past him, continuing their sprint. The attention he pointed at Cassander was all-consuming as his chest pumped faster and faster. He crouched down with his hands on the ground, his nostrils flaring on his exotic features, and heroared.
The five sprinting men…halted in their tracks.
They then fell to their knees, their heads bowing to the ground, their foreheads kissing the earth. Finn was one of them, his entire body quivering in pain. Their fingers dug into the dirt as their frames shook.
Cassander’s body jolted, and he staggered a step back, but he bent his legs as if he were leaning into a strong gust of wind. He shouted, “You can’t stop me, God!”
“I can sure as hell save you from destroying yourself,” Mr. King growled, standing straight on strong legs. His chestpumped…pumped…pumped…with every inhale, his teeth gnashing at the air like he was biting the oxygen. “When you eventually die, it will be by my hand, not yours. You don’t get to die the hero today.”
Cassander’s chuckle was bitter in the morning air, a tear trickling down his left cheek. “Someoneisgoing to die soon. I just don’t know who yet. I’m trying to keep that from happening.”
Mr. King stood his ground. “It’s not my mate. Not today. All you have to do is hold that power right there, not any more than that, and I can go inside and retrieve her. After that, you can join in the fun of beheading evil.”
Cassander didn’t move, his power still flowing.
Mr. King tilted his head, a playful, teasing smile etching his features, making him appear young and carefree. “Come on, Cass. You know you want to kick some ass by my side again.”
I swallowed down my gasp. He was bribing him.
Effectively using any form of persuasion as his arsenal to keep Cassander from…
What had he said?
Destroying yourself, the words shot like a picture in my mind’s eye.
My lips thinned, and I didn’t dare move. There would be no deaths today from a mistake of mine. All their concentration needed to stay on each other, not a blonde in a disgusting, dirty party gown.
Finn would never forgive me either.
The thought came out of nowhere.
