My mind races through combat scenarios, calculating distances between my teammates. If I need to use my power, I'll need space—at least ten feet between us to minimize the energy-draining effect. Ghost on the left flank, Sherlock covering the rear. Perfect. My abilities work best when I don't have to worry about friendly fire.
I map escape routes, positions where I could shield them from seeing my magick if absolutely necessary. A last resort that could save their lives but expose everything I am. The irony of using forbidden power to protect GUIDE agents isn't lost on me, but I'd risk exposure before I'd watch my team die.
I could always run. I know how GUIDE works. They’d have a hard time finding me. Except I’d never be able to leave my mother behind.
The apartment's interior is destroyed. Furniture shredded, walls gouged with deep claw marks. Books and personal belongings are scattered across the floor.
A crash from the back of the apartment, followed by the screech of metal under extreme pressure. Then a roar—a sound that seems to combine multiple animal voices at once, as if several creatures were crying out in perfect unison.
My breath catches in my throat, every muscle tensing in readiness. I use hand signals to tell the guys how to follow and we move swiftly through the wreckage of what was once a living room.
We advance through a short hallway, stepping over more splintered door fragments. The master bedroom appears ahead—or what's left of it. The bed has been thrown against one wall, dresser reduced to kindling. And there, at the far wall, are our targets.
Two massive chimeras, identical in their impossible composition. Each has the powerful body of a lion melded seamlessly with serpentine scales along their spines. Goat-like hindquarters support their weight while wickedly curved ram's horns spiral from their foreheads. Their tails end not in tufts of fur but in serpent heads that weave and hiss with independent awareness. Most disturbing of all are their eyes—three eyes in a row, glowing with different colors but moving in perfect synchronization.
The larger chimera snarls at the door, lips curling back to reveal rows of glistening teeth—and there they are. Two sets of double canines, precisely a half-inch apart, exactly matching the wounds from my father's autopsy photos. My stomach lurches. The monster from my nightmares stands mere feet away, and I'll either kill it tonight or die trying.
They're focused entirely on a heavy metal door set into the wall. One braces its massive shoulder against the barrier while the other claws at the seams with lion paws that morph into talon-tipped fingers, their coordinated efforts making the reinforced steel groan.
The chimeras are so intent on their prey they haven't noticed us yet.
I gesture for Ghost and Sherlock to spread out, getting clear firing positions.
Three heartbeats get into position, then I give the signal.
"Now!"
Ghost and Sherlock fire simultaneously, but the chimera both move, deflecting the bullets with their armored scales. Both scream, a strange mix of a lion’s roar, a goat's bleat, and a serpent's hiss. They whirl to face us, their multiple eyes blazing anger.
They move with shocking coordination, instantly adopting attack formation. The larger one charges straight at Ghost, covering the distance with unnatural speed. The second creature circles, cutting Sherlock off from both of us.
"Flank right!" I shout, but it's too late.
The chimera crashes into Ghost, sending him tumbling across the debris-strewn floor. His rifle skitters away, disappearing under the shattered remains of a bookcase. The beast looms over him, curved horns lowered for a killing strike while its serpent tail arches over its back, fangs dripping with venom.
The second chimera is on him in an instant.
Ghost is unarmed. Sherlock is pinned down. Both chimeras are positioned to kill my team.
I could use my magick. I can maybe save them both. But using my magick will also draw from their life force as well as the chimeras at this proximity, potentially harming them all.
I have to risk it—just enough to save them. I can’t let them die. I won’t.
I release the tiniest fraction of my power, just enough to enhance my natural speed without visible effect. The world slows slightly as I close the distance to Ghost, katanas arcing through the air. The blade connects with the chimera's flank, drawing silvery blood where lion's fur meets goat's hide.
It whirls. Multiple eyes fix on me with ancient intelligence. It's not just a predator—it recognizes me as a threat, not just another human.
I spin away from its counter-attack. My second blade slices across its shoulder, not deep enough to disable but enough to distract it from Ghost.
"Get up!" I shout to him as I engage the chimera. "Get to Sherlock!"
Ghost scrambles to his feet, diving for his fallen weapon as the creature focuses on me. Its movements are precise, controlled—not the blind fury of a wounded animal but the calculated aggression of a tactical opponent.
It feints left, then strikes right, nearly catching me with a sweeping paw that easily could’ve have taken my head. Its serpent tail strikes independently, forcing me to dodge in two directions at once. Then turns back to Ghost again.
A quick glance across the room reveals Sherlock’s pinned against the wall, massive horns mere inches from his chest. He's barely holding the beast back with a broken chair. One more lunge and Sherlock is dead—no time for careful planning.
"Ghost!" I shout. "Down!"
