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Ethan ran toward us as a different magical pas de deux occurred behind him—the QE and the countermagic battled for control, the green tendrils in the sky waving erratically as power fought power.
“We’ve got a path toward the building,” Ethan said.
“Then use it,” Catcher said with a nod, stuffing the wrapper in his jeans as he ran back toward Mallory. “And thanks for the battle snack!”
“Which are a brilliant idea!” I yelled back as Ethan rounded up the troops to head inside.
“Get to the elevators!” he called out, waiting until the rest of the team had acknowledged the order. Stairs would have been cooler, but that was the tricky part about having to battle on the top floor of a would-be high-rise.
We made it into the building—Gabriel bringing up the rear in his wolf form—just as another bolt of magic flashed outside the building. It hit the pavement like Thor’s hammer, putting a crater in the plaza as big as a car, and sending shrapnel into the air.
Down! Ethan said, covering me as shards of granite crashed against the glass, burst through to litter the lobby floor.
As if sensing us, the supernaturals who remained outside began to run toward the lobby. Magic flashed again as Gabriel shifted from gray wolf to naked and sun-kissed human. Eli tossed him a backpack, probably filled with clothes.
“Get to the elevators!” Gabriel said, pointing to the bank of them. “Reed’s sorcerer is fighting the countermagic. You don’t do this now, he’ll take down the goddamn building and everyone in it!”
“We got this,” Eli said, a curl falling over a gash on his forehead.
“Let’s go while we can,” Morgan said, and with a nod from Ethan, we ran for the construction elevators and slipped into a car.
• • •
We’d decided to take the elevator to the floor beneath Reed and the others.
There was only red steel mesh between us and the sky as the crude digital display ticked off one floor after another. The wind blew ferociously through the car, which made the ride bumpy and my knees a little shaky.
Ethan pushed a hand through hair dampened by exertion and magic. He glanced at me. “You all right?”
“I’m fine,” I said as I stood in an elevator between two Master vampires who’d both been affected negatively by Adrien Reed.
As we rose into the air, anticipation began to build again. Logan Hill would be on the roof; he had to be. He was part of the alchemy, part of the magic, part of the Circle.
I would have my time with Logan Hill. I would have my reckoning.
I also would have to keep a better check on my emotions, because both men turned their heads to look at me. I kept my gaze on the elevator doors.
“Sentinel?” Ethan asked.
“I’m fine,” I said again. And I was; I had my game face on.
The elevator slowed, then came to a gentle stop as it reached our destination. We took battle positions once again, just in case they were waiting for us.
“Ready,” Ethan murmured as the elevator buzzed its warning and the mesh door slid open.
The floor was empty—an expanse of concrete bounded by steel pillars—except for the broken body on the floor. I went cold as ice and rushed forward, fell to my knees beside my brother.
“Robert! Oh, damn, Robert!” It took all the bravery I had to reach out and touch him, to gauge whether the man who’d chased me as a child was still alive. His skin was cold and clammy, and vibrated with power. Something magical, maybe. Something the sorcerer had done to him.
Morgan moved beside me, checked Robert’s pupils. They were tiny black pinpricks.
“Magic,” he diagnosed. “Probably to drop him, keep him out of the way. But not kill him,” he added, checking Robert’s pulse, “because he’s a tool, too, just like the rest of us.”
Magic cracked again, flashing brilliantly across the hallway and sending a green sheen across the tall bank of windows opposite the elevator. The concrete beneath our feet shook as if a hurricane raged outside, then stilled just as silently. It hadn’t broken, but the sound of glass tinkling to the stone plaza below filled the air like music.
“I can get him out of here,” Morgan said. “But you’ll have to go forward alone.”
I looked back at Ethan, found his gaze on mine, green and intent. Neither of us was masochistic enough to want war, but we wanted the men who stood on the other side of that door, and we wanted them badly. And when push came to shove, there was no one else I’d rather go through the door with.
