Now, they weren’t holding back. Through his link with Hunter, Michael could feel each element as clearly as his own. His wounds carried no pain now. There was simply earth, air, fire, and water, combined and strengthened through Hunter’s connection to the spirit.
The winds’ force reached hurricane strength. Michael lost track of how much lightning coursed to the ground. Rain spit at his cheeks. He’d never felt this much power. It was choking him, threatening to rip him apart if he and his brothers didn’t give it direction.
“Do it,” said Jay, and his voice was terrible. “You know what we say, Hunter. For the greater good.”
The power stood ready to destroy him. All it needed was Hunter’s direction.
Michael had one clarifying thought: This is too easy.
He remembered Hunter’s lecture about violent combat, how his father preferred hand-to-hand fighting, to be an active participant in someone else’s demise. But his uncle—he preferred to fight from a distance. Jay knew about explosives—he’d already proven that. Hadn’t Hunter said that a Guide could use power to give his weapons an extra kick?
For the greater good. Wasn’t that what all the Guides said? That anyone’s death was worth it, if it led to the destruction of pure Elementals?
Michael squeezed Hunter’s hand, hard. He couldn’t feel his injuries now. He couldn’t hear over the roar of the wind and the rumble of the earth and the thunder. All this power needed to go somewhere.
“A bomb!” he said to Hunter. “He has a bomb!”
Hunter’s eyes shot wide. His hand was tight on Michael’s.
This much power combined with the outward force of an explosive—it would level the county. Maybe even the state. Hundreds of thousands of people would be killed.
All for a few Elementals.
Hunter was trying to dial it back, but there was too much. His skin practically glowed. “You’ll die with us,” he said through clenched teeth.
“Of course,” said Jay. “I understand sacrifice. I’m doing what’s right.”
“No,” said Hunter. “I am.”
He jerked his hand out of Michael’s. The cord of power snapped.
A burst of white light exploded from Hunter’s body, taking all the wind and rain and lightning. Power surged outward, over everything. Michael felt it strike his body, healing the damage the Guide had caused. It went farther, finding the earth, the air, the water, an explosion of light and warmth spreading across the peninsula.
For an instant, Michael couldn’t see. He couldn’t feel.
And then he could.
Hunter was gone. Gone. Not lying dead at their feet. Simply gone. The power had torn him apart.
Michael couldn’t breathe. What had Hunter done? What had he done?
The Guide was on the ground across from Michael, struggling to get to his feet. The guns lay on the ground between them. Michael scrambled for one, hoping he’d be faster.
But the Guide’s eyes lit with fury, and he started pulling at something in his waistband. “I can still take some of you with me—”
Michael shot him in the head. The Guide fell.
Then Michael sat there in the sudden silence and waited for his brothers to find him.
CHAPTER 30
Early morning light was breaking across the park. The parking lot was packed with official vehicles: fire trucks, ambulances, police cars, a bomb squad technician—even a van from the FBI.
Hannah hadn’t been able to see Michael or his brothers yet.
She wasn’t sure she wanted to. She had too many questions, and she wasn’t sure she was ready for answers.
She’d seen Michael and Tyler get shot. She’d seen it.
She’d also seen them get off the ground as if it had all been staged. She’d seen Hunter vanish into a burst of white light and heat. A bomb? But no one else had been injured.
And then there was the earthquake damage.
Or the lack thereof.
She sat on the back of an ambulance and studied the ground, which was slowly going from gray to green as sunlight found blades of grass.
Every mark from the earthquake was gone. No ravines. No cracks. Nothing. The grass itself looked lush and full.
“How are you holding up?”
She looked up to find Irish standing in front of her. “I have no idea how to answer that question.”
“Your boyfriend and his brothers are fine.”
“He’s not my boyfriend. I don’t know what he is.”
“I do.”
She remembered what he’d said when he was holding her, when she was begging for the earthquake to stop. He’s too strong.
“How much do you know?” she said warily.
“Not all of it.” His voice was careful. “I can put together the pieces.”
“How, then? How do you know?”
He hesitated, then glanced around. “That’s not really a conversation for here and now.”
“Were you involved?” she said. “All this time? Were you part of this whole thing?”
“No.” Irish shook his head. He looked aggrieved. “Though I might have known a little more than I was letting on when I encouraged you to listen to your father.”