“I’m fine,” I said as I stood in an elevator between two Master vampires who’d both been affected negatively by Adrien Reed.
As we rose into the air, anticipation began to build again. Logan Hill would be on the roof; he had to be. He was part of the alchemy, part of the magic, part of the Circle.
I would have my time with Logan Hill. I would have my reckoning.
I also would have to keep a better check on my emotions, because both men turned their heads to look at me. I kept my gaze on the elevator doors.
“Sentinel?” Ethan asked.
“I’m fine,” I said again. And I was; I had my game face on.
The elevator slowed, then came to a gentle stop as it reached our destination. We took battle positions once again, just in case they were waiting for us.
“Ready,” Ethan murmured as the elevator buzzed its warning and the mesh door slid open.
The floor was empty—an expanse of concrete bounded by steel pillars—except for the broken body on the floor. I went cold as ice and rushed forward, fell to my knees beside my brother.
“Robert! Oh, damn, Robert!” It took all the bravery I had to reach out and touch him, to gauge whether the man who’d chased me as a child was still alive. His skin was cold and clammy, and vibrated with power. Something magical, maybe. Something the sorcerer had done to him.
Morgan moved beside me, checked Robert’s pupils. They were tiny black pinpricks.
o;Oh, shit.” Ethan’s voice was a horrible whisper.
“I got it!” Catcher said, and moved toward it, raising two hands, palms out, to face the wall of water that was still growing, towering over the petite nymph who’d lifted it dozens of feet over her head. The wind blew fiercely, sending a mist across the plaza, which glittered with glass, and threatening to drown us all with the surge.
Power crackled around Catcher as he gathered up magic, building a transparent wall that sparked with energy. Slowly, as sweat crossed his brow, he began to push it forward, a sea wall against the tsunami the nymph was threatening.
Their gazes locked on each other, their expressions fierce with determination. They moved toward each other, the wall of water shivering above the nymph as if with anticipation of falling, of covering the earth again. But she was so focused on Catcher that she didn’t see Morgan move around behind her. He watched her and Catcher, gauged the right moment, and moved forward, tagging her with the tranq.
She dropped, and the water—now forty feet high—hovered above the plaza.
Sweat popping across his brow, Catcher took one step forward, then another, blue sparks flying around his hands as the water shivered, lifted. He sucked in a breath, as if gathering up his resources, then gave the water a final shove.
Loud as a train, the water flew back toward the river, but unevenly, rushing across the Michigan Avenue Bridge—pushing CPD cruisers into one another with another mighty crash—before falling back to the river again.
Catcher fell to his knees, body limp with exhaustion. That was the downside of being a sorcerer; you had to recharge.
“Hey,” I said, running toward him and crouching in front of him. “You all right?”
“Took a lot out of me.”
“Yeah, saving a few thousand people can do that. That was a pretty good Moses routine—you know, parting the waters and all.”
He looked up at me, a half smile on his face. “Are you making a joke at a time like this?”
“Catcher Bell,” I said, offering a hand and helping him climb to his feet, “if you can’t make a joke at a time like this, what’s the point of living?”
“I guess.”
“Are you going to be able to help Mallory? I could call Paige, get her out here.”
“I can manage it,” he said, testy as ever. “Paige has to stay on the House ward.”
“In that case,” I said, and pulled the slightly squashed PowerBar from my pocket, handed it to him, “you’ll need this more than me.”
Catcher accepted it, looked at me with a warm smile. “Did you bring a battle snack?”
Since he’d already ripped open the package and bit in, I decided it wasn’t worth the trouble to respond.