Pilar shifted, going straight to Maverick and looking him over. He kept saying he was fine, but Pilar could barely even hear him as she checked every inch of him for wounds.
Finally, she turned to face the downed condor. He had shifted and was slowly dragging himself away from her. One of his arms was limp, suggesting that he could no longer fly.
“You think you can win?” He laughed. “You’ve already lost, and you know it.”
“Why did you come?” she roared. “Why attack us now when he is dying?”
“Oh, I just wanted to bring you a little message,” the condor said. “It would have been nice to capture you for Hal, but since that won’t be possible, I guess I’ll just give you the good news.”
The man laughed, a horrible, high whining sound that grated on Pilar’s nerves.
“Good news?” she echoed.
She had followed the condor right to the edge of the roof. He watched her approach, panting with exertion.
“There is a cure, kitty. A cure for your boy’s poison. Hal will give it to you happily.”
Pilar narrowed her eyes. She wasn’t buying it.
“Only if Maverick agrees to help with Hal’s cause,” the man whispered. Pilar stood frozen for a few seconds, and it was enough. The guy heaved himself over the railing and threw himself off the roof.
Pilar hurried to the edge and saw the man plummeting to the street below. At the last moment, he shifted into his bird shape and flew away, one wing barely supporting him as he staggered into the sky.
Pilar gripped the rail with both hands. Her chest heaved, and her heart pounded. She wasn’t exhausted from the fight. She could have gone on tearing condors into feather pillows for quite some time.
However, the news that there could be a cure had struck her right through her bones. She could barely move. If there was any chance she could save Maverick, she had to take it.
But what would be the cost?
CHAPTERSEVENTEEN
MAVERICK
Maverick stood, watching Pilar engage with the last man. He heard the words about a cure, and his heart soared … right up until the guy threw himself off the roof.
He ran to Pilar, bracing himself on the railing to watch the man tumble away through the sky and shift just before he hit the ground. He was full of shock and despair.
“How are we supposed to get the antidote?” Maverick snapped. “He just fucking flew away!”
“How do we even know there is an antidote?” Pilar asked dully. Maverick looked at her, anxiety flooding him.
“You’re right, of course,” he said. “I just thought … it would be easier than that.”
“It never is,” Pilar said softly. Finally, Maverick looked at her, really looked at her. He gasped when he saw her wounds.
“You’re hurt!”
“Yes, but I’m okay,” she said, reaching out to stroke his cheek. “Are you hurt?”
He shook his head. “Not even a scratch.”
“Good. Let’s get you inside.”
“Let’s get you inside!” Maverick said, shaking his head.
It was horrible to see Pilar so injured and know that it was because of him … far worse to know that he couldn’t have prevented it. He couldn’t fight to save himself, he couldn’t fight to protect her, he couldn’t fight at all.
It looks like my big brain powers just add up to a superior ability to suck and die.