Page 66 of Wrong Squad, Right Mess

Save her.

I shifted. The power had released me. Then again, why would it hold me if I were dead? Pointless. All attention was still on Yun and Corsa, with Carter and Ingram struggling against the hold but unable to do anything but blink and speak.

I couldn’t let anyone notice, needed to move fast.

Corsa lifted his hand as though to strike again— Not a fucking chance. My body moved without any input from my brain, my boots digging into the soil as I propelled myself forward, ignoring the way I couldn’t catch my breath, the way my entire body felt drained. I could deal with that all later.

I threw myself between the two—I lacked the strength or skill to attack him, but I wouldn’t allow him to hurt Yun. I’d happily take anything he had to dish out.

The pain in my side said Corsa hadn’t been content with a small slap this time—no, he’d wanted to make a point, throwing an actual punch with all his strength. My ribs screamed, but I ignored them, tucking her behind me, facing off against him.

His eyes shone a brighter purple, as though ignited by the fury inside of him at being so fully denied. That had always been his problem, though. He had no idea how to accept that he couldn’t have everything. He’d always been spoiled, more afraid of looking foolish than being foolish. The idea of him being rejected in front of others was an insult he couldn’t let pass.

“Enough!” The shout came not from one of us but from the strange woman from the other realm. It went along with another rush of that power, but this time, it affected each of us—including Corsa.

Well, all except Yun. It forced the rest of us to our knees, but left Yun standing tall in the midst of so much chaos.

Had she ever looked so much like a goddess? Even bleeding, hurt, she stayed on her feet, ready to meet any threat head on.

Not for herself, not for power or ego, but for us.

It made me realize that no matter how this all ended, no matter if we got out of it, she was everything to me. She’d taught us all something we never would have learned another way, given us trust and faith and love like I knew damn well we’d never earned.

That woman there was my whole damn life, and that alone had made it a good life.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Yun

I hurt. Everything ached. My mouth, my body, my frayed nerves. It was as though it had all just caught up to me, but even so, I stood and faced the three newcomers.

They’d been ready to take the men I loved, and I wouldn’t let that happen.

“You still stand,” the woman said, her head tilted. “You aren’t affected by our powers.”

I wished I still had my log, but I’d dropped it in the chaos. Instead, I drew my shoulders back, well aware that I didn’t look nearly as put together. It was clear to see who the underdog was.

The woman was stunning, perfectly clean, and able to look at me as though I were a bug she might just squash beneath her feet.

Me, on the other hand, I didn’t need a mirror to guess at my own appearance. I’d showered, but all the time in the dungeon had taken its toll. My hair had pieces of branches in it, there were rips in my clothing, and bags large enough to put groceries in beneath my eyes. My cheek was swelling, and there was blood on my face.

Even still, I refused to back down. “Don’t touch them,” I said, thankful that at least my voice came out strong at the moment.

She approached, but I refused to back away, to retreat. Once just before me, she stared into my eyes as she’d done to the others. I didn’t sense power the way I had with Shear, with mentalists who tried to probe my mind. Instead, a gentle caress seemed to slip through me.

Her eyes widened, and she pulled backward. Not in fear, but amazement. “She is divine,” she whispered.

Her companions snapped to stand straighter, as though the words were no less shocking to them. “That isn’t possible,” the man said. “They only pervert the power. They can’t have divine.”

“What is divine?” I asked.

The woman spoke again, but her voice had a gentle tenor, one of devotion, of awe. “A divine is a special, rare being in our realm. They can’t use the power, but they hold it, consume it, filter it.”

“A guide?”

“Guide?” She frowned. Perhaps the word hadn’t translated? After a moment, she answered. “So there are more of you?”

“Yes. We keep them”—I pointed at the men—“from turning into that.” I jammed a finger at Corsa.