But that wasn’t what made him a warrior. It was the way the bull of a man carried himself—confident, prepared, and projecting an aura of barely contained lethality. Jason looked like someone who could kill you if he exhaled a little too sharply.
God, it was good to see him.
“Sorry, sir. We’ll explain later,” I said, casting a significant glance at Nick.
Jason looked over the two of us quickly, nodding to himself after a moment.
“So, Nicholas, you’ve decided to make up for your betrayal, I take it.”
My jaw dropped, and Nick looked like he might soil himself. I had forgotten how damn perceptive Jason could be—he had taken a single glance at Rick and known he was a skinchanger last month. It was almost annoying.
“Mr. Butler—“ Nick began.
“Save it, son. You’re here now. We’ll talk later. Let’s mop up the rest of these children.”
We nodded in agreement. Nick looked distinctly green.
“Rick is going to be surrounded and taken down soon unless we do something.”
As if in answer, I heard an impossibly loud feline roar from across the warehouse cut through the din. A bloodcurdling scream of agony followed shortly thereafter, but was silenced quickly, and, I imagined, brutally.
“Or,” Jason amended, “he’ll simply take them down.” He shook his head, smiling faintly. “Still, let’s give him a hand.”
He took off at a trot, popping a flare from his belt as he moved, the bright red flame hissing as it lit up the area. Nick groaned as he ran, holding a stitch in his side.
“You should do more cardio,” I said as I passed him.
“Don’t make me laugh. It hurts.”
The three of us didn’t have much trouble locating Rick. He roared, growled, and snarled loud enough that it was pretty easy to track him down. But that didn’t mean we were able to catch up to him.
A massive Bengal tiger leapt across the aisle above us, landing on top of a stack of shipping containers. Rick’s head snapped toward us, snorted in recognition, and then sped away, down the next aisle.
“We have to go!” someone shouted nearby.
Loud footsteps echoed rapidly. They seemed to be heading towards one of the exits.
“Rick, cut them off!” I screamed. I heard a roar in response.
“Push them towards the tiger,” Jason said. Despite the pace of our sprint, he didn’t even seem winded. “Wish we had ten of him,” he lamented.
“Respectfully sir,” I said as we rounded a corner, “there’s only one Rick Torin.”
“I suppose there’s something to that. Watch it!” He grabbed my collar, yanking me backwards. I collided with Nick, who fell to the ground. A spear of ice lanced through the air, whistling merrily in its flight. If Jason hadn’t stopped me, it would have skewered my head. I turned back to Nick, but the Water agent waved one hand, winded worse than ever, but unhurt.
Jason tossed the flare around the corner, waited a moment, and then snapped his fingers. A loud foomp sound made my ears pop. A second later, a ball of fire expanded in all directions, blinding me temporarily. Acting faster than I would have given him credit for, Nick stuck out one hand and created a thin wall of ice between us and the flames. It passed by our aisle harmlessly, melting some of the ice, but leaving most of it intact. Once the flames dissipated, the Water agent clapped his hands together, and the ice melted to water instantly.
Jason cautiously peered around the corner, and evidently the danger had passed, because he strode out confidently. Nick and I followed.
“Sir, next time you do something like that, give me a little warning, would you?”
“Warning you would have warned them,” he replied, pointing to two charred corpses on the floor. “Besides, I had confidence in Mr. Stone, and I see that it was not misplaced.” He favored Nicholas with a nod. The Water agent blushed and, in a move almost disgustingly humble, dragged a toe across the floor. I thought they only did that in cartoons, but hey—magic is real. The world is a crazy place.
Rick slunk into view, still a tiger, carrying a pair of pants in his mouth. I didn’t want to know where he’d got them. Some mysteries are better left unsolved. He shifted back quickly, shoving his legs through the pants.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey,” all three of us answered simultaneously.
“How’re things?” he asked.
“Where were you? You were supposed to warn Jason.”
He shook his head. “I got snatched by two of them before I made it inside. They clocked me and dragged me into one of their cars. I don’t think they knew what I am, because they just hogtied me. Probably wanted to keep me alive to find out who else was helping Jason. I woke up and shifted before they could stop me.”
“Oh!” I said. “That was you who made all that noise. You kicked everything off.”
“Sorry about that.”
“Are we sure we got them all?” Nick asked.
Rick nodded. “I ran around the warehouse a couple of times to make sure. Nothing’s moving.”
“Wish we had taken one alive, though,” Jason lamented. “Could have given us a lot of intel.”
“Now that you mention it,” I said, trying not to seem too pleased with myself, “I managed to paralyze one of them before everything started. Bound him with some Spirit magic.”
Jason grinned. I didn’t particularly like the way it looked on his face; it made him look like a shark. “Take me to him.”
***
Twenty minutes later, Rick, Nicholas, and I were resting on the floor. Jason had taken our hostage into one of the shipping containers “to talk.” I had released his throat and jaw from the paralysis, but kept the rest of his body immobile.
I made sure he could feel pain, too.
Rick’s head was in my lap, and we both had our eyes closed, lightly dozing. Nick had chugged half a gallon of water from one of Jason’s canteens before collapsing. The little guy had fallen asleep just about immediately, using his arms as a pillow.
I heard the door to the makeshift interrogation room groan as it swung outward, and my eyes snapped open. I shook Rick awake, and he grunted in protest. Jason stomped over to us, looking grim.
“We have to go, right now.”
“What’s up?” Rick asked.
“They’re going to hit Spirit tonight.”
My heart leapt into my throat, pounding wildly. Fear gripped me, an icy vise around my stomach.
Gabriel…
“The meeting. All of Spirit is meeting tonight. At the school. God, they could wipe them all out.”
Jason nodded. “Our new best friend told me as much. Apparently, they haven’t been willing to risk trying to recruit anyone from Spirit; they could use their magic to infiltrate their ranks too easily, and could turn them from their purpose.”
I checked my watch. It was after seven o’clock. The meeting had already started. They could be killed any minute. Or they could be already dead.
“We don’t have the time to drive there. Damn it,” I swore.
“Um,” Rick interrupted.
“Don’t think for a second you’re going without me,” I cut him off. “That didn’t work out so well last time.”
“I have something different in mind,” he said.
“Explain, please,” Jason asked.
“I can turn into something big enough to carry one of you, and fly there. I actually kind of need one of you with me. I don’t even know where the school is.”
“Carry all of us,” Nick said. “Turn into a dragon or something.”
“Too slow with all that weight.”
“And dragons don’t make sense,” I interjected. “They wouldn’t be able to fly. They’d need a muscle density greater than any known animal to pull that off. Even if they had that, there’s no way they’d be able to generate enough lift to get off the ground without jumping off a cliff first. And don’t even get me started on how they’d be able to turn.”
Every
one paused for a moment to stare at me.
“What? I majored in physics.”
Rick continued as though I hadn’t said anything. “I can do something like a giant eagle, but I won’t be able to carry someone and fly fast enough without some help.”
“Air magic,” I said.
Rick nodded. “It’s got to be you, babe. Can you keep up a tailwind?”
“I can sure as hell try.”
“We’ll follow on the ground,” Jason said. I tossed him my car keys.
“What’s this?”
“You’re blocked in by a bunch of their SUVs. Take mine. Don’t lose it, though. All of my stuff is in there.”
“Okay. Take this phone,” he said, handing me an old style flip phone. “Call me when you get there. You’ll probably have a twenty minute head start. If they’re still alive, warn them. That many Spirit agents can take down just about anything if they’re ready.”
“Got it. See you later.”
Rick and I sprinted for the door, and we emerged into the night, ready to take flight and pursue an enemy that would have us outmanned and outgunned, and more than happy to kill anyone who stood in their way.
Who says I don’t have a good job?
Chapter Eight
“Okay. Okay. This is not okay,” I insisted. I wasn’t panicking. But I wasn’t happy, either.
When Rick had said that he could carry one of us, I assumed he meant that I would be riding on the back of an enormous eagle, not unlike a horse. Instead, he had gripped my shoulders in his talons, and literally carried me. I dangled from his grasp and tried to think happy thoughts.
I kept up a tailwind as requested, but moving that amount of air around was taxing. After ten minutes in the air, I was tired. Luckily, we were quickly approaching the school.
“Three o’clock!” I shouted up to Rick.
He screeched in response.
We have a strange relationship.
Rick swept us toward the campus, folding his wings and sending us into a dive. My stomach lurched, and I screamed. I didn’t even like roller coasters; this was far worse. We plummeted to the ground; my concentration fell apart, and I dropped the tailwind. We didn’t need it anymore anyway. Air whistled past my ears, sending my hair flying in every direction. I continued to scream in terror.
About a hundred feet from the ground, Rick spread his wings once more, catching an updraft like a sail, slowing us down considerably. My body flung forward, swinging like a pendulum, until Rick gripped me tighter. He circled lower and lower, angling his wings to reduce our speed gradually.
Finally, we landed in the parking lot. I didn’t go so far as to kiss the ground when he released me, but I was extremely grateful to have something solid under my feet again. I rubbed my shoulders, which ached from Rick’s talons.
“I am never,” I spat, “ever doing that again. Ever.”
Rick, human once more, grunted. I tossed him his pants and a shirt I’d grabbed from my car, and he pulled them on.
“Seriously, Rick.”
“I thought it was kind of fun.”
“You just liked being on top for once.”
“Babe, you know I love our banter. It’s our thing. But is now really the time?”
I shook my head. “You’re right. Let’s get moving.”
We jogged across the parking lot, keeping an eye out for anything out of the ordinary. Nobody jumped out at us, and nothing seemed to be amiss. The lot was mostly full, but I didn’t see any suspicious black SUVs. I hoped it meant that we were there in time. Not particularly caring about stealth, we burst through both sets of heavy glass doors at the main entrance.
Inside, the school was silent. As in graveyard silent. Nothing made a single sound that I could hear, aside from the occasional whoosh of an air vent kicking on. The halls were empty, and most of the lights were off. Still shadows spread across every classroom doorway, darkening most of the area.
It was freaking creepy.
Rick and I looked at each other, clearly unsettled at the almost supernatural hush that had fallen over the Academy.
“Where is everyone?” Rick whispered. The quiet was so pervasive that it seemed somehow wrong or inappropriate to break it.
I shook my head. “This place should be busier. It’s seven-thirty. This is a boarding school, for Christ’s sake. Kids should be all over the place.”
“How many kids are we talking?”
“I’m not sure. Probably around two hundred or so. It’s a pretty wide age group.”
“Damn it,” Rick said. “We didn’t think about the kids. What if something happened to them, too?”
My blood ran cold, yet I started to sweat. A sinking feeling pulled my stomach to the ground. “Jesus. The kids. It might not just be about Spirit. Shit. Okay, we have to move.”
Rick nodded. “Where to?”
“Split up.” I pointed down one hallway, towards a graceful spiral staircase at the end. “The student dorms are that way. Get up there and make sure they’re all right. If they’re fine, find a group of seniors, tell them they need to evacuate. Jason will be here soon enough to take care of them. Stay with them. Protect them.”
“Okay. You’re heading to the meeting, I take it?”
“Yeah. We might be able to get this done fast enough to save everyone, if we’re lucky.”
Rick started to walk away, but then stopped and turned in place. “Uh, babe?”
“Yeah?”
“Why don’t we pull a fire alarm?”
I grinned at him. “That’d be great, if this place had them.”
“That violates like, forty safety codes.”
“Yeah, well, you put two hundred kids who can control fire with their minds in one place, and you’d get tired of the constant alarms too. These kids can put out fires with a thought, Rick. It’s a different kind of life in Focus.”
He shook his head. “Be careful.”
“You too.”
He didn’t kiss me goodbye this time, either. I took it as a good sign. After all, last time had turned out all right. Why break a streak?
I ran the opposite direction from Rick, after one last glance at his retreating back. I sped down the hallway, past heavy wooden doors, flyers for an upcoming talent show and auditions for this winter’s rendition of Twelfth Night, and the occasional water fountain. I whipped around the first corner without slowing down, praying that my grand total of one visit to the Academy was enough for me to remember where the auditorium was. For that matter, that I had sent Rick the right way.
Too late to worry about that now.
Thankfully, the auditorium was exactly where it was supposed to be. Two sets of solid oak double doors, the kind with soundproofing cushions along the edges, stood, closed, across from an attractive water fountain. A pair of marble cherubs blew streams of water from their mouths, tinkling in the wide basin between them. A sign in the center of one gracefully curved side of the oblong fountain read:
Luck is not a requirement for success
But we’ll take what we can get
I couldn’t disagree with the sentiment. I reached into my pocket, fished around for a moment, and withdrew a few coins. Someone—it might have been Gabriel, or possibly my dad, I can never remember—once told me that pennies were good luck if you found one, but bad luck if you tossed them into a wishing well. Something about luck needing a bigger down payment.
I only had pennies.
I didn’t take the chance, and stuck them back into my pocket.
Not like I’m stalling or anything.
I cracked my neck, my knuckles, and did a couple of trunk rotations. Then I took a deep breath, steeled my badly frayed nerves, thrust open the doors, and walked inside.
Chapter Nine
I’ve heard that there aren’t any real survivors in a war. People make it back, of course, but part of them will always be in combat, fighting the good fight, watching friends and comrades get hurt or killed around them. No matter how badly they might ha
ve wanted to leave it behind, to move on with their lives, a part of them would never be able to, would spend the rest of their lives waking up in the middle of the night, panicked and sweating, convinced that they were in Fallujah or some Vietnamese jungle.
I knew right then that part of me would always be in that room.
I had made it through two major battles thus far, both of them against odds that should have called my number. I wasn’t exactly a veteran, but I had had to make some hard choices, had to kill even though it went against everything I stood for. I had seen some gruesome things, had reduced a grown man to a puddle of ooze, and had seen Nick violently yank the lifeblood from a woman who, in other circumstances, might have actually been an ally, even a friend. I had suffocated a wounded man, a man who had been entirely incapable of defending himself.
None of that was even close to the horror in the auditorium.
More than a hundred bodies sat in the seats nearest to the stage. Most of them hadn’t even risen to their feet, though a few had fallen in the aisle. They were old and young, black, white, Asian, Middle Eastern, Hispanic, men and women, but they all died the same. Their eyes had bulged from their sockets in most cases, broken blood vessels around their throats in others.
But all of their lips were blue.
Hypoxia. Oxygen deprivation, the same thing I had been treated for when I fell through the ice years ago, when my dad was crippled but still alive and strong enough to save me, to keep me on my feet, to keep me warm and safe and happy.
Most of them seemed to have died peacefully, quietly, without a chance to save themselves. It was something, I guess, but at the time I didn’t have the strength to care. I noted all of the details clinically, in a detached way, not really taking in the information, because my eyes were fixed on one corpse in particular.
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