Broken Soul: A Jane Yellowrock Novel

“I don’t know, but I’m betting Leo has some magical items on the premises. If so, then maybe what and where were in Reach’s data bank.” Eli cursed and I didn’t respond. I felt the same way.

 

From the foyer, I heard something slide. We went silent. Eli pointed to the doorway and I handed off two weapons and four mags as I dashed to the far side of the door, taking in the foyer as I moved. A hulking form was pulling itself along the hallway and into the entrance. The smell of his blood told me who it was. I gave Eli the thumbs-up sign, and pointed to me, then to the foyer. “Wrassler,” I said, the word almost silent.

 

He pocketed the new guns and ammo, nodded, and leaned against the wall, part of his body exposed to anyone in the foyer, his weapon giving me cover. I set down the Judge and dashed out, shoving my hands under Wrassler’s armpits and pulling him, sliding him across the glass-strewn floor. At my side, Brute grabbed Wrassler’s shirt and pulled, his teeth buried in the cloth. He was pulling Wrassler’s left arm, which was practically disconnected from the rest of him.

 

Back in the cubicle-sized room, I covered the doorway as Eli went into medic mode, cutting off clothing and inspecting Wrassler’s makeshift tourniquets, pulling his own battlefield tourniquets and stretchy bandages from pockets of his gobag. I kept an eye and the Judge aimed on the foyer as I listened to Wrassler’s briefing, his voice a ragged breath of agony.

 

“They came in fast . . . Fastest . . . thing I ever saw. Dragon, Peregrinus . . . his Devil. Batildis carrying both Leo and Katie. Strong. They took out the gate. Then the air lock.” He stopped and Eli pulled a bottle of water out of a pocket, opened it, and held it up for Wrassler to see.

 

“Gut wounds?” Eli asked.

 

“No. I’m good.”

 

Eli held it to Wrassler’s mouth and the blood-servant drank. I glanced over my shoulder, taking him in fast. He was good? He was missing a right lower leg and his left arm had effectively been amputated, though it was still attached by strings of flesh below the tourniquet. Yeah. He was good. He was damn good. I batted away tears and untied the T-shirt and tossed it to Eli in the dark. “Here. Tie it on him. It’s my dragon tee, the one with a healing spell in the fibers.” Dragon tee. Ironic that a shirt with a dragon on it might save Wrassler from a dragon bite.

 

I went back to covering the foyer, Wrassler’s Judge steady in my hands, ready to fire.

 

Eli tied the T-shirt around Wrassler’s thigh, capped the water bottle, and went back to work.

 

“I was standing in security. Saw it all on-screen. Ordered lockdown. Ordered security to fire at the dragon only. With steel. Ordered our people to hold fire at the Mithrans and the human. And then the shooters rushed in through the gate. Ten shooters.” He swore a long line of fine and detailed curses as Eli tightened the tourniquet below his knee. Sweat was dripping off his jaw and he started shivering. Shock. Not a good sign.

 

Eli laid Wrassler’s body flat and lifted both thighs onto a chair, then pulled a military-style metallic blanket from his gobag, shook it out, and tucked it around the blood-servant. He pulled his cell phone, looked at the screen, and said, “We’re jammed.”

 

Wrassler nodded, his breath coming too fast, teeth chattering. “The power grid went down first. Then the generators died, just as something jammed all coms. About two seconds later we were hit . . .” He stopped to breathe.

 

Eli tucked his cell away. “Why order your guys not to target vamps and humans?”

 

“They had Leo.” He looked up at me, his pupils wide in a too-pale face. “I gave orders to use only steel on the dragon,” he repeated, his thoughts starting to wander. “That was before the shooters came in.”

 

I ground my teeth, knowing my friend was dying. Smelling it, tasting it on the air. Not Wrassler. Not Wrassler, I prayed. Not him.

 

“They went down the hallways first. Taking out everyone they found. It took maybe four seconds. We had dead and dying everywhere. When this floor was clear, they went up the stairs to Leo’s office. I directed everyone there.” Wrassler fell silent but I could hear him breathing, fastfastfast, shallow and desperate for air.

 

“Four of Derek’s guys were on duty. In seconds, two were dead. Derek showed up then. I don’t know where he came from, but I was never so happy . . .” Wrassler blinked and fell silent.

 

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