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Voices shouted from the floors above. One was Finn’s.
Darien bolted. Around the building. Still no sign of Maya, but—
There was a black car parked by a side door that led into the hotel’s restaurant, back doors open.
Filing into the car were three faces he recognized—two of Gaven’s men, the third the imperator’s.
Darien took off after them.
The last one to get in the car spotted him. Swore under his breath as he ducked inside. “Drive!” the man bellowed. “Go!”
Tires screeched, and the driver took off, nearly hitting pedestrians who screamed and scattered.
Cops came up behind Darien, running after him on foot.
“Freeze!” one of them shouted.
Another said, “Put your hands in the air!”
Darien sent a wave of magic behind him, knocking the cops and detectives off their feet—just enough to slow them down.
The black car had pulled over by the hotel entrance up ahead. The back door swung open, a fourth man hurrying toward it, briefcase in hand.
Darien bolted, eating up the distance between him and the car in several powerful strides.
He skidded to a stop beside the still-open door, hand lashing out to grab the hellseher inside—
He saw it coming half a second too late.
The door slammed shut—shattering the bones in his fucking hand.
White-hot, searing pain exploded through bone and muscle, fragmenting his vision— “MOTHERFUCKER!”
Through the white wash of his surroundings, and the blood roaring in his head, Darien barely saw the car speed away. Barely heard the screech of tires over the high-pitched ringing in his ears, the labored inhales and exhales sawing through his tight, aching lungs.
He doubled over, right there on the sidewalk, cradling his hand to his chest. Nausea eddied and swelled in his gut. He retched. Almost threw up—
Roman rushed up to him, gold eyes lit with alarm. “Darien?”
“Fuck, FUCK!” The pain was agonizing. Debilitating. Blistering, burning as if he’d thrust his hand into an open flame— “FLIP THE CAR, ROMAN!” he managed to bellow.
“Which one—”
“The black car—FLIP IT!”
With a strike of his arm, as if he were throwing something, Roman’s magic barreled down the street, the force of it shattering street lights and fire hydrants.
It slammed into the black car.
And sent it spinning through the air.
90
The Financial District
YVESWICH, STATE OF KER
Roman could not begin to imagine the pain his cousin was going through. To have your bones shattered was excruciating, no matter how it was done, but when magic was involved?
