In that moment, Cameron screams, seeing the Silver guard before we do.
He waves an arm, sending Kilorn sideways over the railing with the force of telekinetic ability. My vision slows as Kilorn topples, body sprawled in the air, and I feel like someone is digging a knife into my gut. The ringing in my ears threatens to split my head, rising to a shriek. All down the stairwell, lightbulbs pop and hiss with my fear, spreading darkness.
The guard drops before he can turn his wrath on us. He clutches at his throat, eyes rolling as he lands hard on his knee. Cameron curls her hand, fingers clawlike, as she smothers him with her ability. Slowing his heart, darkening his vision. Killing him.
The crack and thud of Kilorn hitting the railing below makes me sick. We sprint as fast as we can, directly into two other Silver guards working their way up to us. A shiver freezes the steps beneath our feet and my boots slide, almost taking me down. I slice him apart with a rocketing bolt, while his partner, a stoneskin, topples under Cameron’s wrath. We cut them apart, knives through paper.
I reach Kilorn first. He rolls to a stop two floors down, landing sprawled across several rows of steps. The first thing I see is his chest, rising and falling. Shallow, but moving. Breathing. He’s choking on blood. Red and crimson, scarlet, ruby. The color so bright I want to shut my eyes. He coughs violently, flecking both Cameron and me. The hot droplets pepper my face.
“Get him up—we have to get him up,” I mumble, scrambling over him. Cameron follows, deathly quiet. I want to scream.
He can’t speak but tries to rise on his own. I almost slap him. “Let us,” I bark, throwing his arm around me. “Cam, the other side.”
She’s already there, heaving. He’s an anchor, a deadweight.
Kilorn jolts and hacks, painting the steps with his own blood. I don’t bother trying to assess the damage. I just know I have to get him out, get him down, get him to any one of the healers all over the city. I need Davidson, I need someone. My chest tightens, but I refuse to feel the agony or the strain of him. My legs burn with every new step. Down, down, down, down.
“Mare—” Cameron sobs.
“STOP IT.”
He’s still warm, still breathing, still retching blood all over himself. That’s enough for me. Probably broken ribs, cracked bone, sharp and digging into his organs. Stomach, lungs, liver. Stay away from the heart, I beg. We don’t have time to survive a pierced heart.
I taste salt and realize I’m crying, washing my face of his blood with my tears.
The floors pass in a blur, sliding by. Kilorn sucks down a wet, rattling breath; his face and hands are paler by the second. All we can do is run.
More guards charge up the stairs, baying like hounds on a scent. I barely see them, barely feel their nerves as they shred beneath my lightning. Some fall quickly, bleeding from the eyes and mouth and ears as Cameron hammers her ability through their bodies. But there are so many, too many, flooding up to meet us.
“This way!” Cameron barks, her voice still tear-filled as she slams her body through a door on the next landing.
I follow without thought, crossing through a cramped and meager apartment. Where Cameron is taking us, I can’t say. All I can do is keep hold of Kilorn and my lightning, the only two things in my world.
“Hold on,” I hear myself whisper to Kilorn, too low for anyone to hear.
Cameron leads us to the closest window, another square of grimy glass. But this one opens onto an adjoining rooftop. She knocks out the window, using one long leg to kick the pane free. My lightning holds our backs from pursuing Silvers, allowing us enough time to clamber out and onto the roof.
The officers follow, squeezing their larger and broader bodies through the broken window and onto the ashy roof behind us. Beneath the torturous, thundering sky.
Once there’s enough distance between us and the guards, I gently lower Kilorn, laying him down against the concrete. His lashes flutter, eyes glassy, as Cameron stands over him, her stance wide and defensive.
I put my back to her, facing down the Silvers struggling onto the roof. I count six already on the roof, with more squeezing through. What their abilities might be, if they belong to any family I recognize, I don’t know. And I don’t care.
As soon as the last Silver’s feet hit the concrete, I unleash.
The storm opens above me, purple and violent, blinding with my fury. I’m screaming, but the force absorbs all sound, all thought. The lightning swallows the bodies, killing them so quickly I don’t even feel them. Not their nerves, not their skeletons. Nothing.
When the lightning clears, it’s the smell that brings me back. Kilorn’s blood, ash, burned hair, and cooked flesh. Behind me, Cameron makes a gulping sound, like she’s trying not to vomit. I have to look away from the charred remains. Only their buttons and guns remain intact, smoking with heat.
I barely heave a breath before a deafening crack splits the singed air, and the roof shudders beneath our feet. Cameron drops, covering Kilorn with her body as the entire building lurches. Starts to lean. Slowly at first, then faster and faster.
I fall to my knees, reaching for Cameron and Kilorn as the structure buckles. My storm was too strong, the apartment building too poorly made. The walls are crumbling on one side, making us tip. All I can do is hang on as the roof snaps and falls, sliding forward at a steady incline. I slide with it, scrabbling, fingers grasping for anything to hold on to. My fist closes on the collar of Kilorn’s jacket, sticky with hot, wet blood. His breath rattles, weaker than ever, as we move with the collapsing roof.
The ground rises up to meet us, a fist of concrete. Silver officers wait below, ready to kill us if the collapse doesn’t. I clench my teeth, bracing for impact. I’ve never felt so helpless and afraid.
At first I can only blink at the sudden, translucent blue glow in front of me. It hovers, holding up the edge of the tipping roof, stopping the falling slab. But not us. We slide along the angle, dragged through the ash until we smack against the shield. Bullets sound below, and out of instinct I squeeze my eyes shut, curling up.
They ping harmlessly off the shield, sending ripples of force dancing beneath us.
Davidson.
One eye opens to see a massacre below us, a smoky haze of blue and green and white lightning as it branches among the Silvers. Tyton’s white darts fell four of them in an instant, while Ella and Rafe batter the rest with their whipping electricity. The shield moves as they fight, letting the roof down gently. We hit the ground with a low thud, sending up a curtain of gray dust.
Kilorn is tall, lean but heavy. My adrenaline makes him almost weightless. I barely notice the strain as I lift him again, throwing one of his arms over my shoulder. Still breathing, still breathing. Cameron takes his other side and we charge through the ash, without thought for the lightning or the Silvers still fighting.
“Healers!” I roar, screaming as loudly as I can to be heard over the din. “We need healers!”
Cameron echoes my cries, her voice carrying. She’s stronger and taller than I am, taking the brunt of Kilorn’s weight. He doesn’t slow her down.
The premier meets us head-on, his personal guard fanned out around him. There’s a smear of blood on his cheek. Red blood. I don’t have time to wonder who it belongs to.
“We need—” I gasp out, but Kilorn shudders, doubling over on himself. He almost tumbles out of our grasp and forces us to stop. Another wave of blood spatters the ground, painting my boots.
I almost faint with relief when the healer charges forward from Davidson’s soldiers. The red-haired newblood has a familiar face, but I don’t have enough energy to remember his name.
“Lay him down,” the man barks, and we gratefully obey.
The only thing I can do is hold Kilorn’s hand, his skin cold against the flame of my own. He’s still alive. We made it in time. We were enough.