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Panic surges through me as I scramble to catch myself. As I do, the earbud falls out of my ear, severing my connection to the guys.
Fear grips me, and I fight to breathe. The icy touch of the horse beneath me sends shivers through my body, and my stiffening fingers struggle to maintain their grip on its mane. Star remains frozen in place in front of me, her eyes vacant and unseeing.
With every ounce of determination I have, I tighten my hold on the mane as it gallops back toward Clearhelm.
Up ahead, I spot Sharpe’s SUV and our van coming straight at us from the opposite direction, and my pulse quickens as the distance between us shrinks, neither of us wavering. Each crash of hooves on pavement jars through me, mirroring the slam of my heartbeat against my ribs.
The van reaches the Clearhelm turn first and takes it fast, lifting onto two wheels. Flint’s eyes meet mine from the passenger seat, his lips forming words I can’t make out.
The horse veers toward the entrance, but the SUV swerves in front of us with a screech of tires, cutting off the path and forcing it to bolt back into the center of the road, continuing back in the direction of the Conservatory.
The squeal of burning rubber comes from behind me, and the SUV pulls up alongside, the window down.
“Keep going forward! A police escort is meeting them to clear the roads.” Sharpe keeps pace with us at the head of the Wild Hunt. “Give us time to get into position!”
My heart races as I nod, urging the horse to continue galloping forward.
We lead the Wild Hunt farther out, past the Conservatory, then the farm where we faced down Sampson and the Beast.
So much has happened in the last year, countless times we’ve almost lost the city and each other. Thoughts of Flint, Sharpe, Marc, and Darius, and their unwavering trust flood through me, followed by memories of laughter and love that anchor me to the present, fueling my determination.
We’ve been through fire to reach this point, to find places where we belong, to build our lives in Clearhelm. We will not fail now, when everything we want is within our grasp.
“They’ve reached the JTFPI!” The wind rips away Sharpe’s yell, his voice straining to be heard. “We’re almost there!”
The cold reaches my chest, and my teeth chatter. I pull my inner flames to my center, protecting my core. Sensation fades from my hands, and they freeze into fists in the horse’s mane.
Star’s head snaps to the side as the horse beneath me bucks and rears, fighting against my desperate attempts to maintain control. Unable to fight it, we turn and fly back toward Clearhelm. My stomach sinks. There will be no stopping the Hunt again.
Sharpe’s SUV skids into a U-turn on the narrow road, tires screeching as he speeds to catch up once more.
“Pen! They’re in position!” he yells, the furious beat of hooves on the pavement making it hard to hear. “Be ready!”
I nod, my heart hammering in a frenzied rhythm, a clarion call for the Wild Hunt behind me.
Sharpe slams on the gas and shoots ahead of the horsemen, disappearing around the bend.
We pass the farm, then the Conservatory again, and I glimpse the SUV parked to block the road, Sharpe standing in front of it.
As the Wild Hunt barrels toward him, my teeth grit, and I fight down the urge to wrest the horse’s head to the side, to stop the oncoming collision.
Terror claws at me as the gap between the Wild Hunt and Sharpe grows increasingly small. I see the determination etched in his narrow eyes, the fierce focus that I’ve seen carry us through to the end of a case time and time again.
Then he blinks, his tense features relaxing, and starlight fills his eyes.
We barrel down on him, close enough to pick out the stubble growing on his jaw, and the world blurs around us, space folding in upon itself.
Sharpe vanishes, along with the woods and the road to Clearhelm, and the thundering of hooves on pavement turns to the hollow echo of laminate flooring.
The jail cells of the Ward race past in a dizzying blur. Relief sweeps through me as the rest of the Wild Hunt materializes behind us, the cacophony of sound deafening within the confines of the building.
Ahead of us, the open security door looms, and then we burst through it.
The wall of the guard area rushes toward us, and I force my arms to bend, to yank on the horse’s mane with all my strength.
It rises onto its hind legs, whinnying in protest as the clang of the closing door reverberates through the room. Dancing in a frenzied circle, I catch sight of Darius locking the door, and Marc and Flint at the controls as they turn the keys for the kill switch.
The entire building shudders, the air crackling as ley line energy floods in an undiluted rush through the jail cells, the magic of creation reclaiming all living beings trapped behind the door.
