He leapt back, avoiding her snapping teeth. Snatching a fallen handgun from the floor, he fired it desperately at her, and I could sense the iron in the bullets. The wounds only made her angrier as she dragged herself toward him, tail lashing and throwing glass around the vehicle. He didn’t have much space to evade her further.
Another spray of bullets ricocheted against the outside of the shuttle. A scream tore out of me, and I covered my ears with my hands. The rev of an engine roared over the chaos. No—it was more than one, layering over each other. Whoever was after us, they were not alone.
I searched for Ben, Zia, and Rowan—finding the three of them hovering near the ceiling in the opposite corner. As I darted toward them, I saw that the two guards were upon my father—and Cliff was sidestepping Rhett’s panicked struggle with the siren to help. But strong as he was, he wasn’t armored the way the others were. A single blade or bullet could slice right through that fancy shirt and end him.
“We have to help him!” I called to the others.
“I cannot release my magic here,” Rowan said. “The fire will consume everyone,usincluded. We need to get out. In the open, I can lay waste to these bastards.”
I turned to the glass divider separating us from the driver. Calling upon the water sloshing on the floor, I volleyed razor-sharp icicles against the glass, but it was too thick to do more than glance hairline fractures across the surface. If Cliff weren’t occupied, a spray of bullets might do the trick.
But to my surprise, Ben put a hand on my arm. “I can do this.”
Reining back my magic to my hands, I watched as he pressed his palms against the glass. He stated an unfamiliar incantation, his voice low and ragged. I braced myself for some sort ofglamour, but no, it wasearthmagic. His alternate affinity. Right before our eyes, a large section of the glass pane dissolved into sand, crumbling to expose the front section of the vehicle.
The driver was focused on the road, but the armored officer in the passenger’s seat twisted to face the back of the vehicle—his shout of alarm heard even through the dark, mirrored visor. His gloved hand fumbled between a handgun and one of those horrible gas canisters on his belt. My nerves seized at the thought of being put under again.
No.I wouldn’t let it happen again.
Although I doubted I could penetrate his armor with my still-recovering magic, I managed to strike his wrist with a bolt of ice to disarm him. The gas cannister clattered at his feet.
While he cursed and fumbled for the weapon, the view through the windshield seized my attention. The spring-like bubble surrounding Aspen was long gone. Fallen snow layered the ground on either side of us, the winding road nearly invisible under the blinding headlights as we sped along.
Through one of the side mirrors, I spotted what was chasing us—the single glow of a motorcycle and the twin headlights of a car breaking away from all other traffic.
I ducked out of the line of fire as the passenger guard recovered. Finding a perch just below the window while the others scattered again, I strategized how best to stop the driver without putting all of us in danger, but a shriek slammed my thoughts away.
The siren was squealing on the floor, writhing. Rhett had torn a shard from the bronze frame of her tank and driven it directly through her neck. Her struggles were slowing.
The siren had gotten a few good hits in before her demise. To my disgust, a bitten chunk of flesh near Rhett’s shoulder was mending itself faster than should have been possible. Was it thatdevice installed on his arm, feeding him that bastardized healing serum?
My fists clenched at my sides, horrified at the thought of this serum used on dozens of evil men like him. I wanted to kill him—to burnallof this down.
A blinding burst of crimson light suddenly cut across the sky, casting a harsh glare through the windshield.
“What the fuck is that?” the driver roared.
A wall of fire had inexplicably erupted along the road, blocking the path. The driver slammed on the brakes, throwing everyone forward. The piercing squeal of tires filled the air like a howling animal.
The world became weightless.
21
Sylvia
There was no air in my lungs to scream with. I braced myself to be thrown into a wall or window.
But something soft yet firm gripped me before I could be crushed into nothing. Human hands: a desperate, firm hold that was a far cry from the one Rhett had locked me in. The impact of the shuttle landing on its side rattled every bone in my body and aggravated my leg, but I was still in one piece.
In my stunned state, I thought at first Cliff had saved me, until I became aware of the gloves. When the sliding vehicle finally came to a stop, the hands opened. I looked up to find my father’s battered face observing me worriedly.
“Sylvia, are you—”
“Don’t touch me!” I bolted into the air and backed away. I couldn’t bring myself to look at his wounded expression for long. “Just—stay away.”
He shuddered, swallowing words he couldn’t find.
A fire burned through the sideways windshield. I suspected it was Rowan’s doing at first, but the unmistakable scent of roses accompanied the blaze, filling the vehicle.
