His magic detonated. The blast rushed from him in a radiant pulse. The creature scuttling around on the floor trying to bite through the invisible wall on null space died. At the bottom of the hill, Krause collapsed, screaming. I couldn’t hear her, but I saw her straining.
Anyone or anything within a nine-hundred-meter radius of Alessandro had their magic ripped away from them.
Konstantin slow clapped. “Ever the showman, cousin.”
“Three cars incoming,” Bern reported.
We had given Arkan what he was waiting for.
I collapsed the circle. Keeping it up was like holding a weight, light at first, but growing heavier with every second.
Konstantin stepped out and twisted himself into Smirnov’s shape. “So it’s not environmental after all. Good to know.”
We had just given away one of Alessandro’s secrets to the Imperium. It couldn’t be helped.
The cars disgorged their occupants. I tapped the tablet, zooming in.
Arkan. In the flesh. Average height, athletic build, pleasant face. Nothing at all remarkable about him. He could have been a businessman, a lawyer, a high school volleyball coach.
Another man got out of the car and came to stand next to him.
I went ice-cold.
A woman screamed into my earpiece, a sound of pure fury, and I knew it had to be Lilian.
Alessandro leaped out of his circle, wrapped in glowing magic, and strode into the pavilion. He stared at the two men, and his face was full of rage.
Franco Sagredo stood next to the man who had murdered his son. He wasn’t restrained. Nobody was holding a gun to his head. He didn’t look in distress. He stared in our direction, derision on his face.
Arkan waved.
“What a charming family reunion,” Konstantin said.
“One more word, and I will shoot you,” Leon said, not a trace of humor in his voice.
Franco raised his hands. Orange magic clutched at them, and he leveled a rocket launcher at us.
I ran.
We dashed out of the pavilion and down the stairs. Behind us the Wedding Cake exploded.
Leon sprinted to the other side, where the wall was still intact, pulling his guns as he ran. Cornelius took off toward the main house.
Alessandro turned and walked up the stairs back onto the wall. A hole gaped in the pavilion, but it was still standing. The reinforced walls resisted the blast.
The hill was a sea of flames. Someone was walking through them, like a ghost conjured from fire.
There was no pyrokinetic in Arkan’s roster.
The wildfire parted and I saw the mage’s face. Adam Pierce.
How? He was supposed to be incarcerated in an impregnable prison in Alaska. He was supposed to spend the rest of his natural life surrounded by ice and cold.
There has been an event in Alaska.
Oh my God.
Alessandro didn’t even see him. He was looking at Arkan and his grandfather.
I took his hand.
“È un uomo morto,” the Artisan said.
Franco Sagredo was a dead man.
A wall of flames surged ten feet high and rolled toward us. The temperature spiked.
“We have to move.”
He gave no indication that he heard me.
“Mom, I need a bullet,” I said into my mike.
“I’ve tried. The fire is too hot.”
How the hell was Adam generating fire hot enough to stop high caliber rounds? No pyrokinetic could . . .
He gave him the serum. Arkan gave the Osiris serum to a Prime. Holy shit.
The fire was roaring like a living creature, deafening. He would never hear me.
There was nothing we had to counter that. This was Armageddon.
A dark object arced through the sky. For a second, I thought I’d imagined it, but then my brain processed what I was seeing.
“No!”
Linus’ mech landed on top of Adam Pierce. The two men vanished in a white-hot ball of fire. The blast wave of heat smashed into us, picked me up, and threw me against the wall.
It didn’t hurt nearly as much as it should have.
I opened my eyes. Somehow, Alessandro had wrapped himself around me, his magic cushioning the blow.
Linus died. For real this time. Nobody could survive that.
“What was that?” Arabella demanded.
“Nothing.” My grief and fury jerked me to my feet.
The flames had vanished, and the mech was glowing red.
They killed our grandfather.
Static crackled in my ear.
“Frida,” Linus’ voice said in my helmet. “I need a bit of help. I’m stuck in my mech and it’s quite warm in here.”
Oh my God.
Next to me, the Artisan bared his teeth. “My turn.”
“Go. I have your back.”
He lunged through the gap in the pavilion and jumped off the wall, his magic flashing as he landed. I walked through the gap after him and stood at the edge of the ruined wall.
Franco scoffed and started toward his grandson, pulling two maces out of thin air. He didn’t go for the guns. I knew what he wanted. He wanted to beat and humiliate Alessandro. Alessandro had disobeyed, and Franco counted on their family connection to either enrage his grandson until he became sloppy or make him hesitate.