"I won't stand here and watch someone else I love be killed," I replied, adjusting my grip on the knife and reaching deep into my pain so my hands flashed bright pink. Stronger than the glow had been in a long, long time.
"Void's still got his gun," Mav said quickly. "And Sang's got his whip. They're fine; don't do anything stupid."
I tried to shake him off, unable to drag my eyes from my tall kitty monster as his tail lashed in annoyance. But the weapon pushed him further and further from the lift, and he was losing ground, losing his advantage.
He was pushed close enough that I could see the predatory look on my mate's face, and that there were smaller lightning burns lashing his big arms, deeper and worse than everywhere else because his arms were uncovered.
I flicked my panicked stare from Sang to Void when he leapt aside to avoid a burst of fire, and then I glanced back to the lift at the fourth weapon, the final one I didn't know and—
"Where is she?" I asked, my voice unnaturally calm, not reflecting the tumult of panic and rage I felt inside. "Where's the last weapon?"
I turned to look at Mav, seeing my unease reflected in his turquoise eyes, and tumbled into him when I lost my balance. No—when the floor rocked beneath us.
Mav's eyes widened in the second before a deafening explosion hit the back of the room, blowing out the entire wall and ripping us apart with aboom.
I didn’t see where Mav went as I was flung across the room, flailing my hands even as the rest of my body locked up. My fingers froze around the dagger's handle on pure instinct.
Cold air bit at me, as if trying to stop my devastating momentum. Everything blurred in my vision, reduced to smears and shadows—until I slammed into a wall hard enough to break bones, and landed in a heap at the bottom. When a chunk of the wall landed on my legs, pain rose so viciously that I blacked out.
24
Vann went down with a roar, his teeth bared and body bristling as he was shocked six times at once. His shirt slid out of my fingers, and panic hit sharply enough that I forgot how to breathe.
"Motherfuckers," he grunted, whipping his hand up and sending out bolts of magic in a blind arc.
I grabbed his shoulders, heaving at his body with all my strength, but all I could do was lift him onto his knees as he fired magic. The black streaks didn't shudder through the air as powerfully; the shocks had weakened him.
"Vann," I gasped, all my breath returning at once. "Get up. Get up!"
"Coming. One sec," he replied, his humour still intact even as my whole psyche was frazzled by terror.
He got his knee under him, and I managed to pull him to his feet, him leaning heavily on me. The prods burned a ragged hole in his shirt, baring the red welts in his skin.
"Oh god, Vann," I choked out, pain and rage at seeing my friend hurt making my magic seethe inside me.
When a keeper came back at us, this time it was a pink glow of magic that knocked him down. I jumped forward to touch his shoulder. The deadly end of the prod skimmed my side, drawing a gasp of sudden pain from my lips, but it wasn't the full force to my gut like usual, so I stayed on my feet. The keeper melted in mid-air, landing on the floor in a mess of fluids and guts.
"Fuck," Vann choked out.
I turned back to face him, ready to turn another keeper to goop, but one was already edging away—the man who'd kept me in line my whole life. My keeper. I narrowed my eyes in warning. I was more than ready to kill this man.
"Hal," Vann said in a thick voice, grabbing my waist and hauling me back a step. His fingers dug in deep, and I looked at him in alarm. His face was paler than it had been minutes ago, sweat beading on his face and neck. "Got something for you."
He wrapped his fingers around the chain he always wore—the locket with his mum's picture in it—and ripped it off his neck with a wince at the burn. "Keep this safe for me, yeah?"
"What?" I demanded breathlessly, but I closed my fingers around the locket, releasing my magic so I didn't melt the delicate gold. "Why?"
"Things aren't looking so good for me, Hal," he said with a strained smile. He pitched further into me and I grabbed him tightly, keeping a panicked eye on the keepers as they edged closer, sensing easy prey. "But I'm gonna get you out."
"No." I gave him a wide-eyed stare, my heart beating so hard it hurt. "No way, Vann. No."
He smiled, sad and aching, and my breathing hitched when he lifted his shirt away from his stomach.
"Oh god," I choked out, staring at the ugly, bloody mess on his stomach. He'd been cut, and deep enough that I could see all his insides, skin flapping in a ragged slash.
My keeper had done this.
"Ugh, not that guy," Vann groaned. "Facetious fucker can't take a joke."