A trigger.
A detonator.
BOMB!Loki shrieked into my skull as I reached the same conclusion.
My blood turned to ice.
‘Bomb!’ I shouted aloud. ‘Brace!’
Channing’s head snapped towards me, eyes wide. ‘What?’
‘Air shield!’ I barked, already wielding my intention and crafting a shield of air to protect us from the fuckery that would follow.
There was no time to explain, no time to soften it, no time for anything except survival. The intention was formed, hot and bright, and I shoved it out of my body with brute force, surrounding us in a circle of thick air.
The sphere of compressed air wrapped around us in a heartbeat, strong as tempered glass.
Channing’s mouth opened in a shout that became nothing as the world exploded.
The blast was a roar and a punch. My heart leapt in my chest, and the carlifted.
For a terrifying moment we were weightless, spinning, tumbling through the air like a toy thrown by a tantrumming toddler.
The air shield held.
It flexed, absorbing the shockwave, keeping the shrapnel out, keeping the fire away from our soft flesh. The sound was muffled and distant, as if we were underwater.
We collided with the earth, and the force slammed us sideways.
The seatbelt bit into my chest and neck, and my head struck the airbag which had deployed. I held my focus andthe air shield as the car rolled. The air shield was all that was keeping us alive.
Channing’s head whipped back and he cried out. There was no time to promise it would be fine, and I didn’t want to lie to him either, because I wasn’t sure it was going to be fine.
The car struck a tree, ending our dramatic roll. Metal shrieked against thick plant matter. The plant won. The tree stood. Silence reigned.
But it was not true silence. We were both panting, and there was the hiss of the engine and distant muted shouting.
The ogres,I thought. They would come in hot. They wouldn’t pussyfoot around now Jingo had changed the rules.
My breath sawed in and out.
I could taste the sharp, coppery tang of blood, and I didn’t know if it was mine or if Channing’s blood had splattered onto me.
‘Channing?’ I called, trying to twist in my seat to see him.
‘I’m okay,’ he gasped, voice unnaturally high. ‘I’m okay. Fucking hell—’
‘Look at me,’ I ordered, forcing my own voice to steady. ‘Are you bleeding? Are you hurt?’
He laughed somewhat hysterically. ‘I don’t know. I don’t think so, but I think my soul left my body for a moment there.’
His mention of souls calmed me. That was why we were here, after all: Jingo and his damned body swaps. We were here to stop him. We needed to stop him. We needed to save Kate and free Troy Fairglass.
I eyeballed Channing. A cut over his brow, but otherwise he looked okay. ‘You’re fine. I’m fine. Let’s keep it that way.’
I didn’t drop the air shield right away; it might be the only thing keeping the car roof from crushing us. I gritted my teeth and looked around. The roof was caved in and mere inches from our heads, stopped by the air shield. Without the shield, our brains would have been soup on the ground.
‘Seatbelts,’ I told Channing. ‘We need to get out of the car. We’re sitting ducks here.’
