Page 189 of Fallacies

Glancing back at Salem, I make sure he’s still standing firmly at the end of the hall, relief washing through me when I spot him intently focused on the corridor to the left—where the last guard had come from.

Forcing myself through a deep breath, I help the woman to the end of the line, transferring her weight over to a man who looks a little more stable than she is. He’s probably in his mid-forties, with thin blonde hair and gaunt cheeks. He doesn’t have any more meat on his bones than the rest of them do, but he doesn’t hesitate in taking the woman’s hand.

“You okay?” I check before fully letting her go.

She nods weakly, a faint smile on her cracked lips.

I make my way to where the line is being held up, craning my neck as I try to catch a glimpse of the passage. Searching for the reason for their hold-up, but there are too many heads in the way.

My heart begins beating faster.

If something was wrong, like the ward still being up, I feel like that kind of news would have made its way back to the end of the line by now. Right?

As I squint towards the end of the tunnel, a different kind of fear creeps into my chest.

Is Callan not there? Did something happen to my Coven or their plan? I heard an explosion not too long ago, so everything should still be good.

But what if it isn’t?

I do my best to not look panicked, offering a sympathetic smile to the line of Sol staring back at me. If we could get just a little more movement, I’d be able to close the door behind them, but having the end of the line out in the open is a risk we just can’t take.

“Pile in as close as you can,” I urge them, sending up an orb of light to illuminate the passage.

Bodies shuffle, and the line moves forward a few inches, but that seems to be as far as they can go. “Keep going. As much as you can. We have to shut this door⁠—”

A sharp whistle comes from the end of the hall, and I whip my head to Salem.

The warning in the Hound’s eyes is obvious—we’ve got company.

“Shit,” I curse, turning towards the line. “Shh.” I attempt to quiet the building murmurs, snuffing all the lights around us until the hall is pitch dark.

I move to stand between the end of the line and Salem, but as soon as I get into position, he holds up one finger, urging me to wait.

Reluctantly, I listen, knowing he can obviously smell, see, or hear something I can’t, but the silence that follows is so thick it’s hard to breathe through it.

One foolishly hopeful glance behind me confirms that the line still hasn’t moved. My lungs deflate, and when I look back to the end of the hall, Salem is gone.

Panic bleeds into my bloodstream.

There’s a sound of a scuffle around the corner, which isn’t his typical M.O. when it comes to manslaughter. The Hound, I’ve learned, prefers the quick, silent deaths. Especially now, when the last thing we need is a scene.

A full minute passes. Then another. And my body is screaming at me to move, alarm bells blaring in my ears.

He’s the Hound, for the gods’ sake; he doesn’t need my help.

But then again…he told me about not having all his power. About not being as strong as he should be.

A blast of dark magic slams against the far wall, rocking the hallway.

I stumble back, whirling around to the Sol. They’ve been jumbled by the blast, but all remain on their feet, fearful eyes blinking back at me.

My attention pulls back to the corner Salem disappeared behind when I hear glass shatter. It’s followed by the sound of a strangled scream and the grunt of someone else.

Whoever it is should have been dead by now….I’m sure of it. Feeling certain about that, it doesn’t take much more to make up my mind.

I take one surging step forward, deciding Salem needs help, but a Rogue slides around the corner before my boot hits the ground, yellow eyes blazing.

His white hair is drenched in gore, blood dripping from a deep cut on his brow, and when he raises his hand, there’s a spear of black smoke forming between his fingers.