Pursuing Flight: A Dragon Spirit Novel: Book 4

by C. I. Black

  “She’d have to be ten flights up, wouldn’t she?” His wind wrapped around them and swept them up three sets of stairs before sputtering out and dropping them on the landing.

  Nero’s pain burned through her head, and his breath was ragged. Moving them like that required too much control. He could get them to the top, but he’d be spent before even confronting Stanbury, and if she was as powerful a sorcerer as he feared, he was going to need as much as he could hold back to defeat her.

  The men he’d been keeping at bay in the doorway three flights down rushed into the stairwell and started firing. Nero shoved Becca against the wall, covering her with his body. She would have been pissed if she hadn’t known he could heal from a gunshot wound in a matter of minutes. Even then, though, that would take more out of him, making it harder to fight.

  “You’ve got to watch how much magic you’re using. If Stanbury is powerful, I’m not sure how much help I’ll be in a fight. It’s going to be up to you to get your magic back.”

  “And if we don’t get to her office soon, none of this will matter.”

  His thoughts turned to wrapping his wind around them and flying them up more landings.

  “Don’t,” she said, aiming her stolen Glock at the stairs to cover their backs. “You’ll tire yourself out. We’re three flights ahead of them, and I can run seven flights.”

  Something banged above them, someone yelled, and heavy footfalls pounded down the stairs toward them. So much for that.

  “Fast and hard.” She hadn’t been in a situation like this before, she’d never been on a breach team, and all her combat experience had been outside in the desert or among buildings, but she’d still been trained for it. “Don’t waste your strength on these guys. We can manage.”

  “Agreed.” Even if she could tell he didn’t like it.

  Five men appeared at the top of the stairs. Nero whipped a lasso of wind at the closest guy and yanked him over the railing. The others jerked back and fired. Becca returned their fire but only managed to hit one in the shoulder.

  The voices in her head yelled, the men in the stairwell yelled — and she couldn’t tell if that was in her head as well or not. She strained to concentrate. Focus on the shot. Focus on the situation. Nothing else mattered.

  Depending on how many men Stanbury has, it won’t make a difference if I weaken my magic or not. We’re going to be exhausted by the time we get to the top. Nero yanked another man over the railing.

  Behind them, more footsteps pounded up the stairs.

  38

  We need a new plan, Nero said in Becca’s head as he shoved the security door open with a blast of wind and Becca scrambled through. “We’re taking that other stairwell.”

  He followed her and slammed the door shut. A flicker of thought from Nero, hoping for something to bar the door, flashed through Becca, louder than everyone else, and she scanned the hall— no, they were in a partitioned office area. Nothing to block the door, but a maze of partitions and desks to hide among as they made their way to the stairwell on the other side of the building.

  “This way.” She bolted into the first narrow aisle between partitions, heading toward the stairs. “That stairwell will also be monitored.”

  Nero followed. “I know, but maybe everyone is on the other side of the building. Then at least we’ll just be racing up seven flights, instead of fighting as well.”

  The security door behind them banged open and someone growled a command. The new hires were useless. They didn’t have enough men. And both stairwells should be covered.

  There isn’t anyone at the other stairwell.

  Well, that’s good, Nero said. Now to get there.

  They rushed down another aisle and were about to turn a corner when questioning surprise from Nero flashed through Becca, and he grabbed her wrist.

  Do you see any security cameras? he asked.

  She glanced at the ceiling and along its edges and corners. No.

  I have another plan.

  Does that make this plan C or plan D? Not that it mattered. The situation was fluid, and she was willing to change tactics in a split second.

  Plan ‘hopefully it will help us sneak around instead of exhausting us.’

  Well, I hope it’s fast.

  Nero grimaced, and pain shuddered in his chest and into her. Yeah, she didn’t need to remind him that they were running out of time, but couldn’t help herself. Everything counted on them getting to Stanbury before the dugga’s magic became permanently hers.

  He straightened and glanced over the partition, back the way they’d come. They’ve split up.

  That’s how I’d have searched this floor.

  Me, too. He jerked his chin to the passage beside her. There’s a door against that wall and two men heading in that general direction.

  And in a flash, she knew what Nero was planning, as if she’d thought of the idea herself. Check the door, see if it was unlocked — or make it unlocked with a little wind to push open the pins in the lock — then drag the two unsuspecting men inside and take their equipment. Dressed in their gear, they might be able to slip up the other hallway without drawing notice, or in the very least delaying that notice until they were closer to Stanbury’s office.

  Becca scurried down the aisle with Nero close behind and took up position beside the door, the Glock raised as she scanned the adjoining aisles.

  Nero checked the door. Unlocked. Finally, something is going our way.

  And the door even opens in the direction the men are coming, so we can hide inside and watch through a crack. The voices in her head swelled, those she’d dismissed as too far away breaking through her control and adding to the noise.

  Just turn it down. You can do it, Nero said as he slipped into the room.

  Sure, just turn it down. No problem. She followed him inside. The space, a janitor’s closet, was narrow and dark. With the door cracked open, Becca could make out wide metal racks on either side, packed with cleaning and office supplies, but couldn’t determine other details.

  Nero eased inside as well, held the door open a crack, and waited for the men to come their way. We’ll need to make this fast. Chances are we won’t be able to subdue them without one of them making a noise.

  Which means we’ll need to get into their gear and sound convincing when someone comes our way wondering what happened. If Werner had thought their previous plan was bad, he’d think this was terrible.

  So please, turn your volume down. It’s so loud it makes my head hurt.

  I’m trying.

  I know you are. Take a breath.

  She drew in a breath, but the voices didn’t quiet. They didn’t even dim a little. She took another. If they were going to get through this, she had to hold it together. They didn’t have much time left. Surely she could keep the noise down for a little while longer.

  She imagined a volume knob, concentrated on it, then turned it all the way to minimum.

  The voices dimmed a bit, but it was enough. The pressure in her head eased and Nero’s pain lessened.

  Thank you, he said, but the muscles in his back and shoulders tensed and a hint of wind billowed around his hand. And right in time. Just a few more steps.

  Becca’s heart pounded. Once… twice—

  Nero shoved open the door and stepped into the aisle. A lasso of wind seized the front guy and jerked him into the closet, while Nero wrapped the other guy in a head lock, his hand over the guy’s mouth, and yanked him inside as well.

  With a flick of wind, Nero closed the door and turned on the light. Becca grabbed the first man, twisted his arm back into a shoulder lock, and rammed his head against the cinderblock back wall. The man gasped and staggered, stunned.

  She punched him in the face and knocked him out. He crumpled to the floor, bumping two bottles of bleach from the rack beside him. She scrambled to catch them but wasn’t fast enough, and they hit the floor with a thump.

  Leave them. Nero released the headlock from around hi
s guy’s neck and eased the unconscious man to the floor. We need to get changed. Fast.

  Right. They stripped the guys of their clothes, Nero even taking his guy’s boots for Becca, since hers were still somewhere in Nero’s house and no footwear would give her away faster than ill-fitting footwear. Her guy was the bigger of the two, so she swapped with Nero, taking his guy’s slightly smaller pants, shirt, and tactical vest. It wasn’t a perfect fit, and she was grateful her guy had a second belt for his pants and not just his duty belt for his holster and equipment pouches. These guys were each armed with a Glock and had extra magazines of ammo.

  Somehow their luck held and both of the men had helmets. She secured the strap under her chin then checked her duty belt. She didn’t think she’d stripped someone and thrown on their clothes — including elbow and kneepads — so fast in her life.

  Ready? Nero asked.

  As ready as I’ll ever be.

  He cracked open the door and glanced out. All clear. He eased into the aisle and checked both ways as Becca stepped up behind him and shut the door. If their luck held, the men wouldn’t wake up — and no one would find them — until everything was said and done.

  Nero paused at an intersection, looking every bit a soldier in their stolen gear, until a shudder rushed over him and the ache in his chest made both him and Becca gasp together.

  That’s the loss of your magic, isn’t it?

  And that ache is coming more frequently.

  They didn’t have much time left. He jerked his chin, and they hurried across the intersection to the next one, with Becca covering their rear. The action was second nature. Even after everything that had happened and after all the years that had passed — even though she hadn’t been aware of most of it passing — all of her training returned in a flash. This was who she was. A soldier who helped those who couldn’t help themselves.

  Almost there.

  Movement in the aisle behind them caught her eye. She tapped Nero’s arm, the action instinctual when she could have just as easily communicated mentally with him.

  They started to duck into a cubby with a desk and filing cabinet but weren’t fast enough. Two guys in tactical gear rounded the corner, and their surprise flashed through Becca. They’d been seen.

  The guy on the left, a short, stocky man with dark eyes, raised his hand in hello. “Hey—”

  His thoughts stuttered. He’d thought he knew who they were, but didn’t recognize them. They had to be part of the new guys brought in last minute after the first escape attempt earlier that evening.

  His partner frowned, his thoughts startled at the other guy’s sudden stop in speech.

  “Finished checking the northwest quadrant,” Nero said, his voice soft and indistinct.

  “Dalton said to wrap around and meet at the elevators,” the first guy said.

  “I doubt they’re stupid enough to get in one of those,” the other guy said, his thoughts clear that he disagreed with their squad leader’s assessment. “They went right for the stairs the moment they escaped their cells.”

  “But what Dalton says goes,” Becca said, pitching her voice as low and gruff as she could make it.

  The first guy frowned again. She hadn’t sounded right. Shit. Being disguised wasn’t going to work. She was a soldier, not an actor. Her pulse sped up. She’d be much happier in a gunfight than trying to trick someone.

  “So let’s prove him wrong,” Nero said. Just keep scowling. “You check those aisles, we’ll go that way—” He jerked his chin at the aisle in the opposite direction, the one they needed to take to get to the other stairwell. “They have to be here somewhere.”

  “God damned freaks,” the second guy said as they hustled down the aisle Nero had suggested.

  Let’s go. Fear flashed through their mental connection. That had been closer than he’d liked, and she couldn’t have agreed more. Yes, they could have fought their way off the floor, but that would have lost them any advantage they’d gained by stealing the clothes and gear.

  Keeping low, beneath the top of the partitions, they hurried to the door with an EXIT sign above it. Becca strained to listen to the thoughts of those in the area while trying not to let anyone get loud, but could only make out a few clear thoughts among the whispers of everyone else and didn’t want to try harder for fear she wouldn’t be able to get them quiet again.

  Nero reached the end of their aisle. Ahead stood the door to the stairwell and on either side stretched a wider aisle. He glanced in both directions then rose and scanned the area behind them.

  Clear. You get the door. I’ll enter first. First through was dangerous. If they were stepping into an ambush, Nero could be attacked before he could fully realize he was in trouble. But he could also heal from that injury and she couldn’t.

  Deal. She hurried to the door, laid one hand on the crash bar, and waited for Nero to get into position beside it.

  A nod from Nero and she pushed it open.

  He rushed inside, his stolen Glock held ready, and a hint of wind fluttered around him. Clear.

  She entered as well, eased the door shut behind her, and without waiting for his thoughts on the matter, started up the stairs. She kept it quick, but not too fast. If someone was watching the security feed, they needed to look like they were doing what they were supposed to be doing. Which, because she hadn’t gotten the sense that an emergency had been sounded, meant they couldn’t look like they were racing to the top.

  Somehow the stairwell remained quiet, and she could only hope that didn’t mean Stanbury’s security team were busy with Werner and the others.

  At the top landing, Nero drew up to the side of the doorway to enter first again, and Becca squeezed the door handle.

  She had no idea what was on the other side of the door, and there wasn’t time to think about it. The longer they stood in position, looking like they were going to breach a doorway that Stanbury’s security team wouldn’t be breaching, the sooner someone would notice they weren’t security. Not to mention time was running out for Nero.

  Now or never.

  She yanked the door open. Nero hurried inside. Becca followed. They were at the end of a dimly lit hall with three closed doors, but light bled from under the door to the left.

  “What do you mean, you’ve lost them?” a woman yelled on the other side of the door with the illumination. It sounded like Stanbury and she sounded pissed.

  Okay, shoot to disable, not kill, Nero said as he grabbed the door handle. If you kill her, it’s over. A hint of wind whispered around his hand, and Becca knew he’d unlocked the door. They switched position so he could enter first. But still, shoot and shoot fast. Everything gets harder if she has a chance to cast something.

  Is that everything? She’d been a pretty good shot, but shooting to disable was a lot harder in a combat situation than just shooting for center of mass.

  Don’t die.

  Right back at you. She opened the door. Nero went through and she followed.

  Stanbury stood behind a large desk, a floor-to-ceiling bank of windows behind her giving a spectacular view of the city below. Her eyes flashed wide.

  Becca fired. So did Nero.

  Stanbury slapped one hand to her chest and yelled, and the bullets slammed into an invisible barrier surrounding Stanbury. Holy shit. The woman is bulletproof.

  39

  Nero fired again. Mother, how had that woman cast something so fast? His only hope was that the spell, being cast so fast, wouldn’t last long. But his second shot slammed into the magic protecting her and the bullet clattered to the floor.

  Shit.

  He had no idea if that was his thought or Becca’s.

  The barrier was strong enough to buy Stanbury time to cast something else more dangerous.

  He had to do something.

  Now.

  He hissed his power word and summoned his wind, but the woman slapped her hand to her hip pocket, yelled again, and the weight of a null magic spell swept around him. It
snuffed out his wind and made Becca’s essence in his head vanish. A chill shuddered through him at the sudden loss of her presence, and the ache of his missing dugga’s magic swelled.

  Son of a— In only a few seconds, Stanbury had eliminated their sidearms and his wind as if she had experience battling dragons… or in the very least, other magic.

  “God damn it.” Becca holstered her Glock, drew the tactical knife from her hip sheath, and lunged at Stanbury.

  With a growl, Nero did the same. Stanbury might have magic, but it was still two against one. Surely between them, they could grab her long enough for Nero to take the dugga’s magic back. Here was hoping the barrier spell was limited to projectiles and not everything else. He couldn’t imagine casting it so quickly if it was for everything.

  Stanbury bolted to the other side of her desk, pulled two cards from her pocket, held up one, and yelled another power word. A bolt of lightning shot from the card and raced toward Becca.

  Nero seized the back of Becca’s tactical vest and yanked her to the floor. The lightning exploded into the wall behind them, tearing through the dry wall and sending sparks flying when it hit the metal wall frame.

  Another bolt streaked their way. Becca rolled to the side and wrenched Nero on top of her as the lightning exploded into the floor where he’d been.

  Stanbury’s card blackened and crumbled, but she held up the other card. Nero scrambled off Becca as Stanbury drew breath to yell again. He rammed his shoulder into the desk and shoved it into Stanbury. With a gasp that didn’t activate the card, the woman staggered back.

  Becca leapt onto the desk and dove for her, making Stanbury jerk back another step. Becca swiped at the hand holding the card with her knife. The tip caught the back of Stanbury’s hand — thank the Mother the blade got through the barrier spell — making her scream, and the card fluttered to the floor.

  Stanbury’s gaze jumped to it, and for a split second, Nero prayed the woman would try and grab it. With it so close to Becca, that would give her the opportunity to grab her. But Stanbury jumped back instead and reached into her pocket again.