Grayson’s gaze went back to the field. “How many are there?” he said instead of trying to voice his own thoughts.
“Stone Solutions is here with tranqs,” St. James said. “I think they’ve gotten four of the empaths.”
“I took down two on the field and four more on the way up here,” Grayson said.
“We had ten pacifists,” St. James said. “So maybe that’s all of them—”
She cut herself off with a gasp, but Grayson had seen it too: Aisha Easterby in the stands, almost at the opposite end zone, running from thralls.
Grayson didn’t hesitate; he hurdled himself over the railing and landed in the stands below. He shook off the impact as St. James landed next to him, and the two of them sprinted forward.
Dozens of yards ahead, Aisha had fallen between the seats, the thralls on top of her. Grayson put on a burst of speed, but it wasn’t gonna be enough—
Cora Falcon suddenly came racing in ahead of them. The thralls toppled into the stands, curling into balls as Cora reached Aisha, and he and St. James were too late—
But Cora was kneeling at Aisha’s side. The women were exchanging words Grayson couldn’t hear, and Cora wasn’t reaching for Aisha’s face or her hands but was pulling her own fleece over her head and handing it to Aisha, pointing at her leg.
“Are you kidding me with this Harley Quinn shit,” he heard St. James pant, whatever the hell that meant.
As the two of them came up on Cora and Aisha, it was Aisha who said, “Wait.” She held up her hands as Cora watched Grayson and St. James warily. “Wait,” Aisha said again. “She’s not hurting me.”
“You need to talk to your friend here. She’s way too trusting,” Cora said, her eyes on Grayson and St. James.
But Aisha shook her head. “I’m not your hostage. I know I’m not.”
Cora glanced at her, then back at Grayson and St. James. “Her leg is broken,” she said to St. James. “She needs a doctor.”
“Iama doctor,” Aisha said.
“You’re not setting your own tibia,” Cora said dryly, reminding Grayson she’d worked at the veterans’ hospital once upon a time.
Two sections over, Diesel and Liam were hurrying their way. “Is Alex here too?” St. James asked Cora.
Cora blinked innocently back at her. “Why would he be?”
“Answering a question with a question,” St. James said. “That’s exactly how Reece dodges his own lies when he doesn’t want me to see him twitch.”
“Can we just get this over with?” Cora got to her feet, gaze going to Grayson. “I surrender. It’s not a lie this time.”
She held out her bare hand.
“Evan,” Aisha said as Diesel and Liam joined them.
Grayson took Cora’s hand. Her long eyelashes fluttered, and she pitched forward. Grayson caught her before she hit the ground. “That’s eleven,” he said, hoisting the unconscious Cora into a bridal carry. “We’re missing Alex and Reece.”
Liam had knelt next to Aisha. Diesel held out his arms toward Grayson. “We’ll take care of Cora,” he said. “You two go find your brothers.”
Reece flattened himself to the wall as two uniformed guards sprinted past. He had been trying to let his empathy lead him to other empaths, but he didn’t know the feel of them like he knew Alex and Cora, and the sheer amount of emotion ricocheting through the stadium made it difficult to get a reading on anyone.
The feel of the stadium was starting to shift, however, from a dominating sense of panic to the crashing aftermath, which might mean the other empaths weren’t in control anymore. Reece ducked into a staircase and climbed. If he could get up to the summit level, he might be able to get a good view of what was happening—
As he stepped onto a landing, however, he came face-to-face with a new set of guards, in new armor: empath glove material from head to toe, blocking Reece’s every sense.
He froze.
“This is the one he wants,” said one of the guards.
“The onewhowants—” Reece started.
