“Roll up your sleeve,” I demanded.
To my shock, Jon didn’t protest a second. He shifted the gun to one hand, still glaring at Rhett, while he peeled up the battered white sleeve of his tux shirt. As I took to the air to see, I gasped in horror. His left arm was visibly swollen, the skin raised and red, the way it might be around a very aggravated broken bone.
He was stronger than he would ever give himself credit for.
Choking back tears in my voice, I chanted the spell that would mend the bone. Cerulean light flowed from my palms—andstars, I couldn’t remember the last time a healing spell felt so good to cast after that short stint in the iron-lined case.
Jon sagged in relief, swaying on his feet like the sensation coursed through him more poignantly than usual. I swallowed back my fearful questions of how long he’d been suffering through a fractured arm. We were together again. Everything else could wait.
Feeling eyes burrow into me, I turned to find Cliff was watching me. His lips were parted like he wasn’t sure whether to speak or keep his mouth shut altogether. Although Delilah had been convinced to stand down, a part of me still wanted to shred him with ice for what he’d put me through.
“Are you okay?” Cliff finally rasped.
The very sound of his voice, so gentle, familiar,mineagain, nearly brought me to tears.
“Fine,” I said, utterly wooden.
“I had to get him to trust me.” Pain flickered through his words. “He’d never have shared that much information if I turned him away.” He threw a murderous glare at Rhett. “If I’d knownthisfucker was still in the picture, I…”
Despite the weapon trained on him, Rhett leered at Cliff. “I already knew you were a traitor to your kind, but to yourfamily? If you had the decency to fucking die by now, he could have accomplished so much more. Instead, he’s been distracted by his little prodigal son fantasy—” He choked off in a pained shout as Cliff’s boot connected with his ribs, throwing him onto his side.
“Enough!” A rough voice cut through the air.
I held my breath as my father finally stepped out of the vehicle. The others looked at him with alarm and suspicion, and I couldn’t bring myself to say a word in his defense. He seemed unshaken nonetheless.
“The fuck do you want?” Cliff snapped. “Don’t say you had a sudden change of heart—that’s bullshit.”
Father gestured behind us, ignoring the barbed remark. “The fire is spreading,” he said urgently. “It’s only a matter of time before it touches the fuel. We need to get clear,now.”
“Can you put it out?” Lee asked Delilah doubtfully.
She gave a weary shake of her head. “It’s spread too far.”
“Rowan!” Zia took her protector’s wrist, looking more frightened than ever as she regarded the fire. “Can you keep the flames at bay long enough for everyone to get out of range?” He grimaced, looking like he would much rather fly off with her, far away from any of us. Zia’s voice dropped entreatingly. “They saved us.”
As though annoyed by that indisputable fact, Rowan groaned. “I’ll meet you in the trees. Go.”
With that, he flew off to take command of the fire nearest the spreading pool of gasoline. A section of flames turned purple under the control of his magic, and though it slowed considerably, it was only a matter of time before the fire met the fuel.
We set our attention on a patch of woods untouched by the fire, and just as I was worrying over whether we would be taking Rhett prisoner, he straightened and looked into the vehicle. Life seemed to surge back into him, brimming with fury.
“Eros. What the hell did you do to him, you freaks?” he snarled, staggering to stand.
“Stay down!” Jon barked. He lifted his weapon, but there was no need to discharge it—Rhett wasn’t running toward us. He charged back into the flaming vehicle for Eros instead.
Cliff looked on for a second. His shoulders tensed as though he was fighting the instinct to follow. That was his father, after all. But then he turned to the rest of us, a hard set to his jaw.
“Let’s get moving,” he said.
I took to the air, following the others as Jon and Delilah went to move the vehicles out of range. We regrouped under thecover of the trees, far away enough from the fire that the bite of winter was prickling my skin. Sirens echoed in the distance, accompanied by the whirr of a helicopter.
“We’ll need to get clear of this area,” Father said, his eyes darting back toward me.
Taking notice of his keen attention on me, Jon stepped between us. “And who the hell are you?”
Father looked away, struggling to articulate the impossible. In the brief quiet, I examined his face and the scar that dominated the lower right side of it. An old burn. It must have been painful.
“He’s my father,” I said at last. “Or a very convincing likeness, at least.”
