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"On your knees," he told the boy, firmly guiding him to the floor. "Take off your shirt. I want you to place it over your head like a hood, tucked between your skin and the collar."
"Hunter," Corinne cried, weeping now. "Please, just let him go. Do it for me ..."
Her fear clawed at him, but he couldn't stop now. "This is the only way. It's his only chance, Corinne."
Nathan obeyed, silent, uncertain. When the tank top was in place, Hunter told him, "Lie down on your stomach."
Slowly, the boy got into position on the floor. Hunter wound the tail of the cotton shirt around his hand then took a firmer hold of the collar, the liquid nitro hose in the other. He exhaled a low curse, then brought the hose toward the back of Nathan's head and held the plume of freezing chemicals directly onto the collar.
Clouds of white steam frothed up into the air. Even through the layers of fabric protecting his hand, his skin burned from the intense cold blasting the impenetrable casing and circuitry of Dragos's cruel invention.
Beneath him, Corinne's son was utterly still. He panted quickly, quietly, just a terrified kid who was giving all he had to hold himself together in what could very well be the final seconds of his life.
All too soon, the liquid nitrogen began to thin and sputter from the hose. Hunter would have liked to freeze the damned collar for a lot longer, but the tank was petering out. He'd have to take his shot right now and hope for the best.
"What's happening?" Corinne asked. "Is it working?"
"We're going to have to find out." He threw down the hose and reached for one of the daggers sheathed on his thigh. He took it out and turned the hilt around in his hand, ready to bring the butt down on the frozen collar.
Corinne's hands took hold of his arm. "Wait." She shook her head, her face stricken with fear. "Don't do this. Please, you will kill him."
He might end up killing the boy and himself, if his gamble failed and the device went off in that next moment. With Corinne weeping, pleading futilely for him to stop - the vision playing out just as Mira had predicted - Hunter pulled his arm out of her grasp. Then he brought his fist down on the collar.
It shattered.
The pieces broke away, crumbling down around Nathan's shirt-covered head as the device disintegrated. Hunter got up and stood back from the boy. Corinne threw her arms around him.
"Oh, my God," she breathed, clinging to Hunter, sobbing and laughing at once. "Oh, my God ... I can't believe it. Hunter, it really worked!"
Nathan was motionless for a moment, still lying prone on the floor. Then he reached up and pulled the tank top from around his head. He stood, turning to face them. His fingers shook a bit as they climbed up to trace the bare skin of his neck.>But he didn't care.
He shoved back at her even harder, blasting her with the full force of his power. Corinne cried out and gripped the splitting sides of her head. Her eardrums were screaming, feeling as though they were shredding. She went down on her knees, driven to the floor by the intensity of the pain.
At the same moment, she heard Hunter's roar. Saw his face twist in fury as she dropped. Glimpsed a flash of movement as Hunter drew his fist back, then sent it flying in Nathan's direction.
No, her heart cried. No!
"No!" she shouted, and realized the agonizing racket had abruptly ceased. Hunter was at her side. "Are you hurt? Corinne, please, speak to me."
"Where's Nathan?" she murmured. She blinked up at Hunter, terrified of what she might see in his face. But there was only warmth there, concern focused wholly on her.
"He will be all right." Hunter moved aside so she could peer around him to where her son lay on the floor as though sleeping. "I struck him, but he's unconscious, that's all. Come with me now. I will take him out of here."
"Mira, don't wander too far with the dogs. Stay where Niko and I can see you."
"Okay, Rennie!" Mira called back through the darkness of the courtyard gardens behind the Order's mansion. Her boots crunching in the snow as she walked, she glanced over at Kellan Archer and rolled her eyes. "They think I'm still a kid."
His olive-colored parka swished as he shrugged his shoulders. "You are a kid."
She stopped walking and put her mittened hands on her hips, frowning up at him. "In case you didn't know, Kellan Archer, I'm eight and a half years old."
His mouth lifted up at the corner, as if she'd said something funny. It was about the closest thing she'd seen to a smile from him, so even though she didn't get the joke, she fell in alongside him as he kept walking. They followed the trail the dogs had left in the snowy yard when they'd run off after the stick Kellan had thrown to them. Mira hurried to keep up with him, feeling a bit like the little terrier, Harvard, trailing after the larger wolf dog, Luna. It was hard for Mira's short legs to keep up with Kellan's long strides, but she took two steps to every one of his, refusing to let herself fall behind.
Chapter Thirty-one
"How old are you, anyway?" she asked him, her breath puffing out in little clouds. He gave her another one of his shrugs. "Fourteen."
"Oh." Mira counted off the difference in her head. "You're pretty old, then, huh?"
