by Lynn Vroman
Nicolette sobbed, though her hold remained. “I asked her not to, begged her, but…” She hid her face in my neck, her tears soaking through my suit. “She swears there are innocent people in there. She had to give them a chance.”
“Fuck this.” Wilma flashed her deadly hand, ripping Nicolette’s grasp from my neck and pulling me to her side. “You know what you two assholes managed to do? We no longer have the element of surprise. In seconds, that whole goddamn building will know we’re here.”
Nicolette stumbled over to Avery and draped herself over the Guide’s body. “I tried to tell her. Don’t kill her, Wilma. Please don’t kill her.”
Wilma’s hands shook, and there wasn’t a doubt in my mind she wanted to do exactly that.
I wanted her to. The bitch betrayed us.
They both did.
But Wilma closed her eyes and lowered her hands. Farren glanced over her head at me, and I shrugged, about to whip out my gun and do it myself. Then Wilma’s eyes opened. “Winston’s here.”
She left the room, turning her back on the crying Protector and her traitor Guide.
No. Not good enough. I reached for my gun.
Farren grabbed my hand. He pulled me from the room as Wilma flung a hand behind her, shutting the bathroom door. Well, lifting the door off the ground and slamming it against the entry.
Winston barged into the tavern, Zander, Oren, and our group of Protectors behind them. Grace nowhere in sight. He didn’t waste any time with chitchat. “They know we’re here.”
Wilma moved to the window. “No shit. Avery went in, blew our cover.”
For the first time since I’d met him, Winston flipped, whipping tables and chairs around the room. No one, not even Wilma, tried to intervene. When the room lay in even bigger shambles, he seemed better, breathing slow with his eyes closed. “Okay, change of plans.”
“Well, you better make it fast because there’s a light show over there.” Wilma pointed to the window with the courthouse view as the sky burst with a firework display of red, blue, green, and white orbs while Protectors stormed from the building waving their soul-stealers.
Winston clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “Imma open the lines in here. Let Pit know it’s time to bring the fire.”
Wilma nodded, and as soon as she closed her eyes, the roofs came to life with Empyrean soldiers. Pit’s army swarmed the streets, firing their weapons, killing the Protectors like flies. Unfortunately, the orbs swooped in every time a Protector fell, absorbing their energy, which meant Teenesee didn’t get an ounce of it. Empyrean soldiers fell, too. Soul-stealers hit their marks while orbs swooped down to steal more energy.
Still, Winston concentrated as if nothing went on outside. He raised his hands toward the bar, sweat beading on his forehead. The fight came closer to our sanctuary, but he didn’t move. We all stood tense, and I knew every single person in the room itched to join the fight as we watched Empyreans fall. Some even tried to leave the bar, but Wilma froze them. “Don’t give our position away. He needs to get the damn lines open.”
Winston struggled, his arms straining as he yelled.
The enemy drew closer. Orbs infiltrated the bar, paralyzing me. Their beautiful light swirled around Zander and I, suffocating us.
“They’re coming.” A Protector pointed, the soccer mom, who now looked like a warrior, deadly and fierce.
I wanted to lift my gun with the rest of them, but the lights… I needed their heat, their touch. Farren swooped in, taking Zander and me under an arm and ramming us into a darkened corner, his grip tight. Lights continued to swirl around us, diving into our opened mouths. The heat they produced made my lungs burn, and by Zander’s screams, they did the same to him. Still, I didn’t care. I craved it, needed it.
“Hurry up, Winston!” Farren’s booming voice cut through the heat, and I managed to smile at him even as I screamed.
I wanted to reassure him, let him know I was fine dying this way, but the heat wouldn’t let me. Nothing mattered. Death. Not so bad. Not so–
I’m here, love. Open your eyes.
Tarek.
I concentrated on the power his words always had, struggling to lift my lids. The heat eased as I opened my eyes to find the bar transformed. Boards and bricks broke off, flying into Arcus’s vibrant forest. No longer were there empty shelves and broken glass. My giant stood with Belva next to him, her squid an intimidating army taking commands from their mistress. Like a vacuum, the orbs swept across the lines, releasing Zander and me from their hold.
I bent forward and Farren caught me, the excitement on his face palpable. “Ready to kick some ass?”
Oh, hell yeah.
When Farren released us, Winston yelled again as he blew the front of the building away, meeting the surprised enemy head-on. Most back peddled when their eyes landed on what waited for them inside.
Tarek remained deadly calm, his circling palms forming a clump of blue, green, red, and white light. Whatever he did, the Guides weren’t able to escape his hands.
Farren took off into the fight, a war cry escaping his lips. Wilma, already in the fray, threw Protectors toward Belva’s squid, and at my friend’s command, thick pink tentacles reached for the flying Exemplians, curling them into their bodies and silencing their cries. Winston stayed, his muscles straining, but he managed to drag Protectors toward Belva’s cephalopod army while maintaining the open lines. Tarek sucked up every Guide who dared to come near, the mass of light he held hostage growing larger.
Not one Protector dared to cross the lines voluntarily, the squid, vicious and snarling, hungry for the kill. As more enemies disappeared across the lines, the less stress registered on Winston’s face.
When ten more Protectors met the squids, Tarek yelled to Winston, “Go, I got this.”
Not needing any more prompting, Winston gave him a salute, and rushed out into the melee, but not before turning to us. “Do. Not. Leave. You heard?”
My eyes shifted to the ball of light Tarek wielded while strength and anger seeped back into my body. Those Guides might have been powerful, but they couldn’t make me forget the hate for long.
“Lena!”
I jerked my attention toward Winston, my mouth dry and bitter with revenge.
“You heard?”
When I nodded, he jumped in, a lethal whirlwind of fury as he dodged bullets like a samurai while throwing Protectors into Arcus. Everyone fought hard, but those orbs swooped in, collecting energy, giving many more Exemplians another chance at life while ending the lives of brave Empyreans.
The answer to the problem lay hidden in that building, almost certainly under heavy protection. The Guides had to die, or all this was for nothing.
I grabbed under Zander’s arm and lifted him from the ground, Exemplian bullets whizzing by us. Not willing to take chances, I led him to the alcove under the stairs. Once we were relatively safe, I pointed outside. “We’re not gonna win if we can’t get rid of the Guides.”
He squatted, pulling me down with him when a few stray bullets lodged into the wooden planks. “What’s our plan?”
I glanced up, not expecting him to volunteer himself but grateful all the same. “We make a run for the building, find the bodies, and stick with the original plan.”
He grabbed a stair, his face determined. “We burn them.”
“Yes.”
His fingertips whitened. “On our way here…I saw what they did to people I knew, cared about.” He pursed his lips. “We’ll need help.”
There wasn’t time to ask about what happened with his group and the nest in the woods, but by the hardened expression that hadn’t left his face since he came through the doors I assumed the experience left him…well, a little like me.
I squeezed his hand before scouting the bar. The only people of ours left were Soccer Mom and Oren. “Looks like they’re our babysitters. Guess we should tell them where we’re going, huh?”
“They’ll get the hint eventually.” Zander got u
p and reached for my hand. I clasped it, pushing off the ground. He gave a grin that didn’t reach his eyes. “Ready?”
“Wouldn’t matter if I wasn’t.”
We ducked out from under the alcove. They’d follow us–hopefully. I gave Tarek one last glance. As if he knew, he turned his attention to me, shaking his head.
Don’t do it. His voice vibrated inside my head, pleading.
I pulled the gun from my belt, and mouthed, I have to. Then I was gone.
Lena!
Tarek’s command matched Oren’s as his boots smacked the cobblestone behind us. Of course, Zander and I kept going, staying to the edge of the fight, making sure to avoid Wilma, Farren, and Winston, who all fought as savagely as berserkers.
We ran hard, Zander struggling to keep up with me. In seconds, Oren matched my pace, which would’ve colored me impressed under different circumstances. He didn’t try to yank me back to the bar, though. He didn’t need to be told where to go, either. Any Protectors who noticed us, Oren handled, with his gun or fists, no one who tried able to best him.
As we hit the courthouse’s marble stairs, Zander’s wheezing cough informed me he caught up, along with Soccer Mom. We took the steps two at a time, Oren and Soccer demolishing any detractors with skill that would’ve impressed Jet Li.
What stumped me as we breached the entry was how hardly any Protectors stayed behind to defend the nest, which punched me in the gut as soon as we were about fifty feet down the wide, cavernous hallway. The static tingled through my body, making me light. With effort, I tamped down the craving to sit and enjoy it and trudged forward.
Doors marked the walls every three feet or so, running the length of the hall, all shut and locked. As we rounded the corner, more doors appeared for us to choose from along with about ten Protectors blocking the door at the end of the hall. From the buzz amplifying in my head, I knew what they protected behind that door.
None moved to attack, remaining in a solid line, protecting the nest. Oren didn’t feel so inclined to do nothing, and neither did Soccer Mom. They blasted the guards, taking down four before the others had time to aim their soul-stealers.
As soon as they fired, I yanked Zander into a doorway, standing flat against the wall. My gun in hand, I couldn’t shoot. As much as I desired to kill them a short time ago, when the moment came I couldn’t. Every time I tried to aim, my hand would shake and my conscience would freeze my trigger finger.
Zander had no such issue.
He stayed in front of me and shot with as much precision as Oren and Soccer. Sweat dripped into my eyes and my hands quaked even more. The fear pissed me off, the hate running scared when faced with action.
Oren planted his body in the entry directly across from us, Soccer a few doorways down. When the blasts from the opposite side ended, Soccer ripped down the hall. The remaining Protector, another woman, ran out of ammo. Before she could reload, Soccer leapt, giving the Protector a scissor kick to the head. When the bitch fell to her knees, Soccer grinned, sauntering behind her, watching her prey suffer. She then put one hand on the Protector’s chin and the other across her forehead. In the silence, a loud crack echoed before the Protector slumped to the ground.
Soccer opened the door, peered inside, and waved us forward. Fear turned to shame, my face heating on the jog to the door. Yet again, someone had to save me. No one commented on my lack of help, which made the shame crawl deeper into my brain. But once we ended up in a stairwell, determination stomped on the disgrace.
Static in the well overwhelmed both Zander and I. He held onto the railing, breathing deep, seemingly better able to ignore the pull. Even without their energies, these Synod Guides could turn me into a co-dependent moron. But the attraction didn’t control me as wholly.
My trembling hand swept damp hair from my brow. I glanced at Zander. “Up or down?”
He shook his head, keeping his eyes closed and his hands clenched around the metal rail. “Don’t know. Both, maybe?”
“Okay, um…” Shit.
Oren cleared his throat after looking out the door. “Whatever we do, we need to do it now.”
I glanced over his shoulder to find two people headed our way. When Zander’s attention followed mine, he gasped, his mouth slack. “Cassondra.”
Panic ripped through me, but by some miracle I tamped it down, my voice as calm as bathwater. “You and Soccer Mom go upstairs.” I already began racing downward, Oren following.
“It’s Erin, Tainted.” I looked up to find Soc–ah, Erin grinning down at me. “Never stepped foot on a soccer field in my life.”
I nodded and kept moving. We jumped down flights of stairs, Oren landing with more finesse than I. Funny we never heard the door swing open, or anyone chasing us. Maybe they didn’t see us? And maybe the dead Protectors disappeared, too, right? The hairs on the back of my neck stood. Why didn’t she follow us?
As soon as we reached the ground floor, Cassondra left my mind. Oren peered through the glass window while the static screamed so loudly in my head it brought me to my knees.
His hair, soaked with sweat, plastered the sides of his face. After swiping it from his forehead, he searched again. “At least three hundred bodies are in there and not one Protector. Easy fucking targets.”
I pressed onto the cool ground, trying to block the desire to run, flee from responsibility. These people, who lay defenseless, lined up head to toe, helped massacre hundreds of people, maybe more.
We had to do it.
I couldn’t.
“Oren?”
He hunched to meet my eyes, his bright with sympathy. “I was wrong about you, Tainted.” He brushed my cheek. “You have changed. Good.”
“I don’t think… I can’t kill them.”
He sighed, biting his lower lip. After a second, he jumped to his feet. “But I can.”
An explosion rocked the building, shaking the already floating ground. Dust landed on my head, scratching my eyes, and clogging my throat.
Coughing, Oren said, “And it sounds like someone else can too. Two nests, no protection. Callous motherfuckers.”
I gasped for air, pulling in more dust. The building trembled, the dust turning to chunks of debris. Oren pulled me from the ground, shoving me back up the stairs at the same time snatching my satchel from my shoulder. He took his off, too, and threw both into the room, shooting at them until they caught on fire. “Go! Go! Go!”
I raced up the stairs, my lungs burning even as the building tumbled around us. The light guiding our way was our glowing suits, now flickering. Another explosion ricocheted through the well. I fell backward.
Oren caught me by the armpits, just to throw me forward again. “Move!”
Steps crumbled underneath our feet as we climbed, our progress too slow, like ants swimming in honey. My legs grew heavy, but adrenaline refused to let them give up. Smoke–the ever-present smoke polluting Empyrean–clogged the stairwell, attacking us.
I tripped, and Oren scooped me up, dragging us both until we hit the door. Zander and Erin met us in the hall and we all raced to the exit, the walls crumbling in our wake. Another boom crashed through the building, knocking us the last few feet outside and down the marble stairs.
Zander lay motionless next to Oren, who sputtered and gagged. I crawled to him, leaning on his chest. “Zander!” I shook his shoulder when he didn’t respond. “Wake up! Please! Wake up… Wake up.”
He coughed once. Twice. His eyes fluttered open as he floundered, searching the streets. “Did we do it?”
I laughed–and cried. “Yeah, we did.”
The streets looked like a scene right out of a WWII movie, bodies strewn everywhere. But most were Exemplian bodies, and the only light shining on the once beautiful town came from the orange sunrise. No more orbs. No more control. Portals opened as the surviving Protectors left, some devastated, no doubt because they left without their Guides, whose energies stayed here. For Teenesee.
My legs wobbled as I struggled to my feet,
Oren behind me helping. Relief cleared away the pain, both physical and mental.
We did it.
We won.
Hopefully Teenesee would find a way to heal herself and her people.
“You!”
I snapped my head to the right to find Wilma rushing toward me. Rage fired through her blue eyes, her suit turned off and unbuttoned in the front. Oh, man. I had a lot to apologize for, but I’d do it with a smile on my face. For starters, I needed to make sure she knew exactly how much she meant. What I said to her before… No, she was everything.
I grinned with a shrug. “I–”
A bullet skated past my head.
Surprised shined on Wilma’s face before the blue sphere slammed into her chest.
Her eyes widened.
She fell.
“Noooooo!” I dropped to my knees, cradling her head…rocking.
Rocking.
Rocking.
Rocking.
“Wilma?” I covered her wound. Blood seeped through my fingers. “Wilma!”
Blood leaked from her mouth.
So much blood.
“Please!”
Her whitened lips moved, but no sound came out.
More blood.
“No…” My face buried in her neck as her body stiffened.
Life drained away.
“Oh, God, no! Please. I’m sorry…I’m sorry…I’m sorry…I’m sorry.”
Sorry.
Sorry.
Sorry.
Yelling, screaming, cursing rendered the air. Wave after wave of screams.
My screams.
Zander’s. “Stay away from her!”
A woman, as colorless as Casimir, stood above us.
Cassondra.
She smiled and held out her hand. Wilma took one last breath as the bullet lodged in her chest came loose, flying into Cassondra’s palm. I felt a whoosh, and a hole punctured my heart. An empty space. Gutted.
She held the glowing blue pellet for me to see. “You took from me, and now I’ll take everything from you.”
Her other hand flew in the air as Farren and Winston came running behind her.