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Dynamite, suddenly the word came to Frankie and she knew. The next bomb was made of dynamite, but how would they set off the fuse? Was it on a timer? Where would it be stashed? She studied the entire area around herself but could not get a location.
Too late, she realized why she had not been able to find it! The damn thing was encased in a thin layer of iron, her Daoine Fae would not see through the iron. However, her Fios was unaffected by it. It was an odd combination that dwelt within her brain that often needed the shutting off of one in order to allow the other to dominate.
Her Fios, unlike Daoine and Seelie Fae, was immune to the effects of iron. At least she had always supposed it to be the Fios in her, as Jazz too, was immune to iron.
Even as she locked on the explosive and found it reposing in its iron casing, a casing that would turn into shrapnel wicked and deadly, she knew she was not in time. Her vision showed her the fuse was already doing its work. She tried anyway as she flicked her wrist and chanted the words to get it up and away into space.
Too late. Hard words.
It exploded, and the blast from below, opened the earth right in the heart of the campus square where people were rushing across. It shot dirt and debris high and wide, and it sent people hurtling in the air, and as they came down, Frankie saw they were maimed and bleeding, dying and…her heart cracked wide open as she cried out a curse on Pestale’s head and balled her fists upward giving him the warning, “Pestale, ye be next! Do ye hear me, Pestale?”
But the time now was to forget the pain of watching people suffer and to help. She turned to Graely and knew the horror written on his face mirrored her own. A moment later, he was on his knees, already trying to heal the injured by giving of his own life source.
The blast was enormous, and the debris had blasted in every direction. The explosion shattered the façade of the administration building, sending pieces of stone, concrete, and metal into the air. It knocked people to the ground, slicing into their flesh as they ran. It had been an attack on the innocents and the resulting injuries were horrific.
Pandemonium ruled. Screaming, crying, shouting and cursing, but heroes were created. Those who weren’t hurt were rushing from one injured person to another, tearing their clothes to use as bandages, calling on the cell phones for help.
Frankie’s gaze took it all in and made another silent oath to take Pestale down and make him pay.
Car alarms had gone off as mortar flying in every direction landed heavily on parked vehicles in the vicinity.
The sirens of the quickly approaching Garda and ambulances blasted through the sound of chaos, indicating they were on their way, even as off duty nurses and doctors rushed to the scene.
Jazz was already jumping from one injured person to the next, using her healing powers as a Fae to mend torn limbs, treating the most horribly injured first.
Frankie joined her, each taking on more than even their Fae ability could handle at once.
Fae dictum did not allow this interference. They were not supposed to heal, and repair, but it was a Dark Fae that had brought this about, and there was no question about rules at the moment. Jazz and Frankie didn’t care about rules as they moved through blood soaked and terrified people.
The word terrorists was spoken by the humans, and carried by the media who appeared on the scene.
Better, Frankie thought, to leave it at that.
Frankie bent to an older man, no doubt, a professor and he groaned as he tried to get up, passed out and fell. One of his legs was nearly detached. She wanted to cry and scream at once, but instead, ran her hands over him, healing tissue, nerve endings, and bone. His other injuries were minor, and she touched his shoulder as she started to get up and move to the next person.
As she left the elderly man he awoke, grabbed her hand and said, “Are you an angel? Your wings…so beautiful. You look like an angel with an angel’s touch.”
She was momentarily startled.
Had she let her Glamour fade? She realized that she had in fact lost some of her Glamour while she gave all her strength into healing. Oh-oh. Nothing she could do about it. She had to help these people.
Her Glamour continued to fade with each person she healed. She was already severely depleted. Others would see and a new panic would rise up.
She turned to Jazz and called her name.
Jazz turned, looking white and drained. “Frankie. Your Glamour…it has nearly faded completely. I can see your wings.”
“I know, but I can’t leave them here like this,” Frankie cried.
Graely appeared at her side and cast a spell of invisibility around her, shielding her wings and her Faeness from detection. “Go and rest, you’ll do more good—both of you, if you take a moment to recoup.”
“But that girl over there, she’ll die—sh
e’ll bleed out if I don’t heal her wounds…” Frankie objected.
“Sit,” he commanded.
She watched him as he turned and strode over to the young girl bleeding out on the grass. He was so strong, so capable…
