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The last word that left Max’s mouth was a name: Travis.
He had to get home. Had to find Travis and Lacey—
Spinning pavement rose up to meet him as his world went black.
Travis had been in enough fights—fists, guns, you name it—to know that they all started the same way. Not for the same reason, not that—but with an eerie beat of silence that reminded him of the calm before a storm.
For a moment, just one, the only sounds were the wind hissing through the palms and the distant beeping of car horns.
Then came the bullets.
He acted quickly—firing shots at the six men spreading out to form a wall as they pulled their triggers on him.
Travis’s magic snapped out—obliterating the bullets flying this way, bits of shrapnel zipping through the air.
Blood sprayed. He’d felled two men, but the others were still coming.
Travis shot again. Bang. Bang.
Bangbangbangbangbangbang.
Behind him, more men fell. More blood sprayed.
A hand latched onto his arm. “Get down!” Jewels’s voice sliced through the night like an arrow.
He ducked. A blade nicked his ear, but he didn’t feel the pain.
Travis turned and threw himself in front of Jewels. Grabbed a knife that was strapped inside his leather jacket.
He threw. The blade spun, hilt over tip.
It found its mark in a hellseher’s forehead, the force behind Travis’s blow burying the blade right to the hilt.
Travis’s next throw thudded into the soft hollow at the base of a warlock’s throat. A squirt of thick blood shot across the ground, and the body hit the cement with a thud that echoed.
A third cut through a man’s jugular.
A fourth speared into a different warlock’s eye. More blood sprayed, and the warlock collapsed, gun clattering on the pavement.
Jewels took down a fifth—hand lashing out to grab one of Travis’s knives.
With impressive strength, she threw—
The blade cut the hellseher’s neck. He fell.
And then there was silence.
Travis’s rasping breaths, combined with Jewels’s, were the only sounds that filled the night air.
That was the last one, Travis realized. They were all dead—all fourteen of them.
Fourteen bodies.
Holy shit.
He allowed himself a minute, and then he stood, pulling Jewels to her feet with him. “You okay?” He brushed the hair out of her eyes and cupped her face with his hands.
It took her a minute, but she nodded. “Yeah.” She swallowed, a pale hand coming up to press against her pulse pounding in her neck. “Yeah, I’m good.”
