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“Hold on. I’m almost there.” Though Chris didn’t have a damn clue what he could do for Nick. Untie him, at least.
Unless he was chained.
Don’t panic. He kept crawling. “What happened to Gabriel?”
It was the wrong question. Nick’s breathing accelerated. “I don’t know. We got caught—the storm—I don’t know—”
“Easy.” Chris kept his voice steady. Nick was usually the one to keep the rest of them calm. “If he’s not here, he probably got away.”
The words hung there in the darkness. Nick didn’t say anything.
Chris kept moving.
“You’re close,” said Nick. “I can hear you.”
“Good.” So Chris rushed.
Stupid. His hand came down on something solid, with a slight give. Fabric over skin. Plus something with an edge that scraped against the side of his hand.
Then Nick was yelling and Chris flung himself back.
Nothing was worse than listening to his brother scream in the darkness. Chris slapped his hands over his ears, then felt like a total wuss.
He jerked his hands down. “I’m sorry.” God, it sounded like he was about to start crying. “Nick—I’m sorry—”
“Chris.” Nick’s screams had given way to ragged breathing.
“Yeah.” Chris kept his hands tight against his stomach. What had he felt? Had that been bone? Couldn’t you bleed out from a compound fracture?
“Don’t do that again.” Nick was sweating now—Chris could feel that. Every drop whispered pain.
Sweating meant shock, right? Or something else?
went sprawling. His head hit a tree.
It hurt. For a minute, Chris scrabbled at underbrush, trying to figure out which way to run. He was barely sure which way was up.
But the water knew he was coming, and he felt it calling him. The trees must have been providing some kind of cover, because lightning hadn’t struck since he’d fallen. He stayed low.
There was a twenty-foot stretch of grass between the trees and the creek. He could run it. Would he be a live target for lightning again?
Lightning hit a tree to his left. It didn’t so much catch on fire as explode. Bark and limbs went flying into the air.
Yes. He’d be a target.
But now there were flaming bits of debris in the air, and smoke curled through the rain. This was probably the best cover he’d get.
He burst out of the trees, feeling flaming bark catch at his shirt and burn. It didn’t matter. He’d be in the water in ten seconds. Nine. Eight.
He jumped a fallen branch. Seven. Six.
He could see the creek now, a dark roll of angry water, fed by the storm and his power. His enemy might be stronger here in the rain, but Chris knew instinctively, if he got in that water, he’d tip the scale of power in his favor.
Five. Four.
Three.
Screw it. Chris leapt into the air, arms outstretched. He could dive like an Olympic medalist. The water was there, below him, waiting.
