Reaching out to the trees, he coaxed them into lifting their branches. The old wood creaked and groaned as it moved. New branches grew in an instant, pointed like pikes. He held perfectly still, waiting until as many of the squirrels and raccoons as possible had fled the field of battle.
Clay lifted his arms and roared a shout he brought up from his toes. He threw his arms forward and the trees mimicked the movement. The newly formed spikes shot through the air like arrows, raining down on the open field.
A low chuckle rumbled up Clay’s throat as Cor backpedaled and finally dove for the limited cover of the barn. Spikes pummeled the old wood of the barn, piercing the sides. At the same time, the vines that hadn’t gotten caught up in the pestilents were now slithering up the barn or sliding between boards. The pestilents were now gone, staked to the ground, and his powers were now attacking the barn.
Things were stretching out of his control. He tried to call the powers back, but they weren’t responding to his attempts to pull them to heel.
Well, this was fucking bad.
Clenching his fists in front of him, Clay tried to pull it all in, but it was like trying to control a storm. Things had built, and now there was no control. It was as if old angers that had simmered within the earth were now breaking free. His plea for help had thrown off all restraints, and everything was running wild.
Clay turned his attention to the power roaring through his blood. God, it was so wonderfully intoxicating, but he clenched muscles, pushing it down. This power put Baer and Grey in danger. It put Dane in danger.
Dane.
Was he safe?
The roaring energy eased, but only after the barn collapsed in a loud crash of breaking wood and fracturing glass.
Oh, fuck! Baer? Grey?
The rush of panic brought the last of the powers to heel, and Clay swayed on his feet. He was lightheaded, and his fingers tingled with pins and needles. There was a strange buzzing in all of his body, but the world looked like it should. The trees were no longer moving, tossing arrows at the enemy. The vines had stopped crawling across the earth.
Blinking, Clay focused on the sight of Grey frantically waving for him to hurry toward him. Clay could manage only a sluggish nod. For a moment, his feet didn’t want to move. It was as if they’d become attached to the earth, but with each step, his muscles loosened, and it became easier to run.
His mouth fell open as he found several large spikes had pierced the windows of the SUVs. The side panels were heavily dinged and banged up. He spared only a glance back at the barn. Cor had been running in that direction. Had he been crushed?
God, he hoped he was dead, but Clay wasn’t willing to believe it until he saw it with his own eyes.
For now, he directed his attention to Grey running down the driveway in front of him. As they reached the mouth, they saw Dane’s truck speed off with an angry squeal of tires. In the passenger seat was a slumped and bloody Baer.
Grey fired up the engine of Jo’s truck as Clay threw himself into the passenger seat. He was still grabbing his seat belt when Grey stomped on the gas and the truck leaped forward, peeling out in a mix of grass and gravel.
“Grab your phone. I have no idea where the fuck we are, and I’ll never get us home without help,” Grey barked.
Clay could only nod as he continued to fight with his seat belt. A quick glance at Grey revealed that he was sweaty and pale, but the blood on his shirt looked as if it might be from Baer rather than any injury he sustained.
“Baer?” he demanded when he got his phone free of his pocket.
“He’s bad,” Grey said softly. His eyes darted up to the rearview mirror several times, though Clay wasn’t sure how they could possibly be followed. But at this point, he doubted any of them were acting on more than instinct and fear. “I didn’t get a great look at him, but it looks like a belly wound. Another long cut at his throat. Lost a lot of blood. Looks like they taped him up a little to slow the bleeding. Like they didn’t want him to fucking die before we got there.”
“Maybe one of the aunts will know some medicine. I don’t know more than the most basic stitches.”
“We might be better off taking him to the hospital.”
Clay remained silent. Jo and Flo had been very anti-hospital. It was one of the rare times they’d agreed on anything. He wasn’t sure if there was something different about their blood or DNA that might catch someone’s attention. Or if the style of injuries would draw too much attention to them. Clay got it. They needed to keep their focus on the pestilents. They couldn’t risk gaining the attention of government types who might want access to their powers for their own reasons.