I was on my own.
The first cultist lunged, hands glowing with sickly yellow energy. I dodged, my bad knee screaming in protest, and lashed out with my marked arm. Blue energy crackled from my fingertips, catching the cultist in the chest and sending them flying backward into a tree.
The second and third attacked simultaneously, one throwing what looked like glass vials filled with swirling darkness while the other chanted, the air around them distorting with each syllable.
I ducked the vials, which shattered against the SUV and released writhing shadows that began to eat through the metal.The chanting cultist's spell hit me full force, though, and I felt my limbs grow heavy, as if I were moving through molasses.
Panic surged through me, followed immediately by a wave of raw power. The blue markings pulsed with an intensity that tore through the slowing spell like tissue paper.
"She resists!" one cultist shouted, backing away. "The prophecy protects her!"
"Then we take her by force," another drew a wicked-looking dagger inscribed with glowing runes.
I braced myself, drawing on the power flowing through my veins. The markings responded eagerly, too eagerly, the energy building faster than I could control it. The air around me began to shimmer, reality bending slightly at the edges of my vision.
No, not again. I couldn't lose control, not here, not now.
A battle cry from my left drew my attention as Zane vaulted over the hood of the SUV, his face streaked with blood but his movements still graceful and deadly. He launched himself at the cultist with the dagger, knocking them to the ground with brutal efficiency.
"Winter, behind you!" He shouted.
I spun to find the third cultist nearly on top of me, their hands wreathed in crackling energy. Without thinking, I released a portion of the power building inside me, a controlled burst that caught the cultist square in the chest.
They disintegrated. One moment they were there, the next they were simply gone, leaving nothing but a faint outline of ash on the ground.
I stared at my hands in horror, the blue markings still pulsing with hungry light. What had I done again?
"Zane," my voice cracked, the reality of what had just happened hitting me like a physical blow.
He was at my side instantly, his hand warm on my shoulder. "It's okay. You did what you had to do."
"I killed them," I whispered, my hands trembling. "I didn't mean to, I just wanted them to stop."
"I know," his voice was gentle, a stark contrast to the violence he'd just inflicted on the cultist now lying unconscious at his feet. "But we need to move. There could be more of them."
I nodded mechanically, trying to push down the horror and focus on survival. We needed to get away, to find safety.
A sharp cry of pain cut through my thoughts. I turned to see Zane staggering backward, a glowing shard of metal protruding from his side. The cultist I'd thrown against the tree was back on their feet, hand extended from casting the magical projectile.
"Zane!" I screamed as he dropped to one knee, blood already soaking through his shirt.
Rage replaced horror in an instant. The blue markings flared across my skin, power surging through me with such intensity that the ground beneath my feet cracked. The cultist barely had time to raise their hands in defense before my unleashed energy engulfed them, leaving nothing but another ashen outline on the grass.
I rushed to Zane, who was pressing his hand against the wound, his face pale but determined. "Not as bad as it looks," he grunted, though the tightness around his eyes told a different story.
"Liar," I accused, helping him to his feet. "We need to get you to a healer."
"The SUV's totaled," he nodded toward the vehicle, which was now partially dissolved by the shadow magic. "And they've probably blocked standard teleportation."
I scanned our surroundings. We were in a small wooded area just off the highway, the sounds of traffic audible but not visible through the trees. The ambush site was designed to keep us isolated, to prevent witnesses or easy escape.
"Can you walk?" I asked, supporting as much of Zane's weight as I could.
"Do I have a choice?" he managed a pained smile. "The Bureau has a safe house about two miles east. If we can reach it, there should be medical supplies and a secure communication line."
I nodded, adjusted my grip on him as we started moving through the trees. Each step seemed to cause him pain, though he tried to hide it. Blood continued to seep from the wound, the magical nature of the attack preventing his usual rapid healing.
"How did they find us?" I asked after we'd been walking for several minutes. "The route was supposed to be secure."
