“They are humans, and you have no right to detain them.”
“We have the right to retain enemy combatants, including Sensitives, which they are. And if they come out now, we’ll promise not to kill the daughter.”
Phaedra slipped out of Tadji’s grip, and she was moving before we could stop her. She stepped next to Liam. Fury seemed to swirl around her like a queen’s cape.
“You touch one hair on my daughter’s head, and you will regret it for the rest of your very short life.”
Go, Mrs. Dupre. And she meant business, too. I could feel the tendrils of magic moving past me, blowing my hair as she spindled her magic and prepared to strike. I knew from the list she could “conduct magic,” but I had no idea what that actually meant, or how to plan for it.
Hatred bloomed across Rutledge’s face in ugly red splotches. “You are tainted with magic. And since we have considerably more numbers than you, and better weapons, I suggest the rest of your friends come forward now so we can all go about our business.”
“You’ll need to recalculate your numbers,” said a voice behind us, and we all looked back.
They emerged through the trees like spirits—a dozen Paranormals with weapons in hand. There was no gold armor this time. Instead, they wore what looked like worn and discarded human clothes.
Half of them were angels—tall and uniformly beautiful men and women with skin in a rainbow of shades, from ghostly pale to gleaming brown-black. Their eyes gleamed gold, just like the tips of their wings, which disappeared as they silently touched the earth.
The rest of them were an assortment of creatures. They were a small and self-made army, clothed like humans, but very definitely Paranormals. And they stood behind Malachi like his dedicated troops. Burke had gotten word to them, thank God.
Rutledge took in the sight, and his eyes gleamed. “This isn’t your fight.”
Malachi stepped forward, stood beside Liam. “Since you’d wreak hell upon us all, of course it is.”
Malachi’s voice dropped. “Disable and disarm the operatives,” he said quietly to his battalion.
He raised his bow, which gleamed gold in the falling darkness.
I was struck blind by memory, of a glint of light off the armor, the weapon, of the Valkyrie who’d come to kill me. Of the red-brown stains across her mouth and lips, and the hunger in her eyes. For death, for blood. I’d never been afraid like that—I’d never experienced fear that had slunk through my muscles and bones like freezing water, leaving me staring at her, my heart racing, pounding in my ears.
I’d had nightmares as a child that a stranger stood at the end of my bed. I’d seen him, but couldn’t scream. I was terrified, but had no voice. I felt just as defenseless when she stared me down.
Sound rushed back like a wave. “Claire. Claire.”
I looked down, found Liam’s hand on my arm, the gripping fingers white with effort. He and Phaedra had moved behind the shed again.
I looked back. The Paras were rushing forward on one side of the wall of men, weapons raised for battle. They’d funneled together on the left, forcing the operatives to regroup, and leaving the right side of the yard open for us. If we could get around the house, we might have a chance to get out alive.
ComTac began firing. Gunshots sang through the air, zipping past the angels and zinging off their weapons. They launched their own onslaught of arrows.
“Let’s move,” Liam said, and pulled me toward the other side of the house, the Dupres behind us.
My adrenaline surged, but my body wanted nothing more than to hunker down until the fighting was over. But I wasn’t seventeen anymore, I reminded myself. I was an adult, with my own power.
“We have the right to retain enemy combatants, including Sensitives, which they are. And if they come out now, we’ll promise not to kill the daughter.”
Phaedra slipped out of Tadji’s grip, and she was moving before we could stop her. She stepped next to Liam. Fury seemed to swirl around her like a queen’s cape.
“You touch one hair on my daughter’s head, and you will regret it for the rest of your very short life.”
Go, Mrs. Dupre. And she meant business, too. I could feel the tendrils of magic moving past me, blowing my hair as she spindled her magic and prepared to strike. I knew from the list she could “conduct magic,” but I had no idea what that actually meant, or how to plan for it.
Hatred bloomed across Rutledge’s face in ugly red splotches. “You are tainted with magic. And since we have considerably more numbers than you, and better weapons, I suggest the rest of your friends come forward now so we can all go about our business.”
“You’ll need to recalculate your numbers,” said a voice behind us, and we all looked back.
They emerged through the trees like spirits—a dozen Paranormals with weapons in hand. There was no gold armor this time. Instead, they wore what looked like worn and discarded human clothes.
Half of them were angels—tall and uniformly beautiful men and women with skin in a rainbow of shades, from ghostly pale to gleaming brown-black. Their eyes gleamed gold, just like the tips of their wings, which disappeared as they silently touched the earth.
The rest of them were an assortment of creatures. They were a small and self-made army, clothed like humans, but very definitely Paranormals. And they stood behind Malachi like his dedicated troops. Burke had gotten word to them, thank God.
Rutledge took in the sight, and his eyes gleamed. “This isn’t your fight.”
Malachi stepped forward, stood beside Liam. “Since you’d wreak hell upon us all, of course it is.”
Malachi’s voice dropped. “Disable and disarm the operatives,” he said quietly to his battalion.
He raised his bow, which gleamed gold in the falling darkness.
I was struck blind by memory, of a glint of light off the armor, the weapon, of the Valkyrie who’d come to kill me. Of the red-brown stains across her mouth and lips, and the hunger in her eyes. For death, for blood. I’d never been afraid like that—I’d never experienced fear that had slunk through my muscles and bones like freezing water, leaving me staring at her, my heart racing, pounding in my ears.
I’d had nightmares as a child that a stranger stood at the end of my bed. I’d seen him, but couldn’t scream. I was terrified, but had no voice. I felt just as defenseless when she stared me down.
Sound rushed back like a wave. “Claire. Claire.”
I looked down, found Liam’s hand on my arm, the gripping fingers white with effort. He and Phaedra had moved behind the shed again.
I looked back. The Paras were rushing forward on one side of the wall of men, weapons raised for battle. They’d funneled together on the left, forcing the operatives to regroup, and leaving the right side of the yard open for us. If we could get around the house, we might have a chance to get out alive.
ComTac began firing. Gunshots sang through the air, zipping past the angels and zinging off their weapons. They launched their own onslaught of arrows.
“Let’s move,” Liam said, and pulled me toward the other side of the house, the Dupres behind us.
My adrenaline surged, but my body wanted nothing more than to hunker down until the fighting was over. But I wasn’t seventeen anymore, I reminded myself. I was an adult, with my own power.
