It arcs left and slams the vortex where it connects to the windmill.
The gusts scream like rabid beasts, and white heat blasts me as the evil gray winds unravel. Audra plummets, and I order a Westerly to catch her, just like when we were kids. And this time I have enough control to set her down gently.
I run to her side and fall to my knees, cradling her face. She doesn’t move. Barely breathes.
Her skin is beyond cold, so I wrap her in my arms and let the sparks shoot between us. “Please, Audra. Come back to me.”
I crush her to my chest. Kiss the gash on her forehead. The cuts and scrapes on her cheeks. Run my lips along the raw, red scratches on her jaw. I’ll make up for every pain, every wound she suffered to protect me.
My hands rub her arms, trying to generate friction.
She’s still so cold.
A real kiss might warm her up.
Man—it’s tempting. Her lips are right there. Drawing me toward them.
But . . . call me old-fashioned, but I kinda want her to be conscious for our first kiss.
I kiss her forehead again. “Please come back to me,” I whisper. “I love you.”
Nothing happens for a few seconds, and I choke back a sob. Then her eyes flutter.
She moans.
“Where does it hurt? What do you need?”
She twists in my lap, her back arching like she’s in pain, and moans again. More of a groan, actually.
“What can I do?” I beg.
She turns back to me and her eyes focus on mine.
Her face crumples. “I thought I’d never see you again.”
I pull her against me. “We’re safe.”
I rock her back and forth, feeling my hope grow as the warmth returns to her skin.
“What about the Stormers?” she asks.
I swallow bile as my mind imagines the blond Stormer’s broken, lifeless body somewhere out there.
“I took care of one.”
She jerks away from me, wincing like she’s just gotten the mother of all head rushes. “Where’s the other?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen him since I got free. I’m guessing he’s long gone.”
“Guess again,” a low, vicious voice snarls behind us.
My heart feels ready to explode as I turn to face the gray-clad figure. He has dark hair and light eyes and a jaw so square you could use his chin as a ruler.
He smirks. “Thought I’d sit back and see what the last Westerly can do, in case you clam up like the others when we interrogate you. And I must say, that little toy you have there is quite impressive.” He points to the wind spike, which fell a few feet away from me. It didn’t explode like the others. It must be too strong.
“Come,” I order it in Westerly, and it shoots to my hand. Cool—a voice-controlled weapon. No wonder Raiden wants the power of four.
But he’s not getting it.
I point the spike at the Stormer’s head.
“Put it down, son, and I’ll make this a lot easier for you,” he tells me.
“Or . . . ,” I say as I stand. Audra tries to stand too, but her legs collapse. I step in front of her, shielding her. “How about you leave now and I won’t run you through with this?”
I hold the edge of the spike out so he can see the way it glistens along the edge, like a real sword.
“It’s fun to watch you play soldier. But you forget that I know your kind. I’ve been with Raiden for all the Westerly interrogations. Violence isn’t in your blood, boy.”
“Your partner might disagree. Or he would if he weren’t dead.” My voice shakes on the word and my vision dims, but I fight for control.
The Stormer falters. Then he shakes his head. “If that’s true, it must’ve been an accident. You think you have the stones to stab me? Spill my blood all over the ground?”
My arms shake.
He grins. “Typical Westerly. So let’s stop pretending there’s even the slightest chance you’ll do any harm with that toy.”
“It’s not a toy,” I shout, getting seriously pissed. The callous way he talks about the murders he’s witnessed—helped with—makes me gag.
“Vane, give me the weapon,” Audra orders. She can barely hold out her hand, but I know she means it.
“How cute, your little girlfriend wants to play too. And I’m sure she could at least make good on her threats—if she weren’t half dead right now.” He winks at Audra. “Don’t worry, we’ll get you the rest of the way before the day is over.”
Some sort of strangled roar erupts from me.
“Ooh, he doesn’t like it when I’m mean to his girlfriend.” The Stormer moves a step closer and I adjust my aim. Straight at his heart—assuming he even has one.
He rolls his eyes.
Then he grumbles a string of words I can’t understand and whips out his arms. A chain of broken gray Northerlies tangle around me like a lasso. I slice them with my spike and they unravel.
He frowns. “Like I said, your toy is quite impressive. Hand it over, come quietly, and I’ll let your girlfriend live.”
“Don’t even think about it, Vane!” Audra shouts.
I ignore her. “How do I know you won’t kill her the second I’m restrained?”