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“Stay behind me,” Gideon said, squaring himself to the door.
I didn’t argue – he was the one with the gun. With one kick at the middle of the door, he burst into the hotel room with me close on his heels.
Scorch marks covered every wall of the hotel suite. Blackened pieces of wall art lay broken and shattered on the floor. A couch had been overturned on the other side of the room, with several bullet holes puncturing the brown microfiber cover. Broken copper pipes from the ceiling hung down at odd angles and sprayed cold water on the remaining textured cream colored wallpaper. Agent Silva lay unconscious on the bathroom floor, her gun scattered around her in pieces.
My brother stood with his palm facing up beside one of the two queen-sized beds. My eyes followed the direction of his hand to where Theo stood on the small balcony, outside a pair of what used to be sliding glass doors. Now, they lay shattered in a million shiny glass shards.
Theo still wore the black wind jacket and jeans, but a long thin burn marred one side of his face, and half of his head where the wavy blond hair had once been. He didn’t even look at us. Madness danced in his blue eyes as he shot a powerful gust at Nicky.
In the midst of it all, Kit lay still on the bed nearest the opposite wall. He wore Pikachu pajama bottoms and a yellow t-shirt. His skin had turned an ashen color and left his cheeks lifeless. If it wasn’t for the slight movement of his chest, I would’ve thought he was dead.
At his bare feet lay Medusa’s knife – abandoned and forgotten during the struggle. I lunged forward to grab it, but had to pull myself back when Nicky loosened a fiery stream at Theo. The Gorgon easily deflected the assault with a batch of wind that sent the fire sailing over his head and into the air.
“You’re both under arrest. Get down on the ground,” Gideon yelled.
Just like when he’d confronted Ian Welch, the air around him began to crackle and pop with static electricity. His eyes morphed into a vivid green and the edges around his body blurred.
He pointed his gun at Theo. “I said get down.”
The Gorgon ignored Gideon’s request and sent another powerful gust into the room. This time, Nicky was caught in the blast and swept up, hitting the wall hard. A loud crack sounded and he slid to the ground with a pale face, holding his left arm at an odd angle.
“Nicky!” Despite my brain screaming at me to stop, I ran to my brother’s side and grabbed his hand.
He smiled weakly at me, the pain shining in his eyes. The sight of bone sticking through the skin in his arm made my head feel light and woozy, so I concentrated on keeping my eyes on his face.
Gideon lunged forward and began shooting at Theo. Pop, pop, pop, the bullets went whizzing through the shattered doors and onto the balcony. Theo dodged the fire and hid behind the wall, his maniacal laughter loud enough to be heard over the gun.
“Feels like old times, doesn’t it, Little Bird?” Nicky coughed and spit out a mouthful of blood, giving me a bloody smile.
I tilted my head to one side, unsure what he meant.
“You know, Andy Gregson’s old tree,” he added. “The summer I fell?”
I felt a small smile pass over my lips. He was right. That summer, we were all about tree climbing and finding adventures. Andy Gregson had a crooked old apple tree in his backyard that had died years before in a draught. We were going to make a fort high in its branches.
The first boards had already been nailed to the tree when Nicky stepped on some dry rot and tumbled ten feet to the ground, landing on his arm and shattering his wrist. He spent the rest of the summer in an orange cast signed by all the neighborhood kids. Although that didn’t stop him from climbing any more trees.
My walk down memory lane was interrupted by Theo smashing through the wall and barging into the hotel room. He shot a blast of wind at Gideon, pinning him behind a wooden desk. There was murder in his eyes. If this didn’t end soon, someone would die.
“Stay here,” I said.
The dagger was only a few feet away. I slid across the soaking wet carpet and reached for the dagger on the bed, my eyes never leaving Theo’s back. He was still busy flushing Gideon out from behind the desk.
My fingers closed around the cold metal of the hilt, the filigree rough against my palm. I burst from my sitting position like a runner out of the starting box, and dove the dagger at Theo’s back. The blade was still sharp, that much I knew. It would sink into his flesh like butter. All I had to do was hit my mark.
Theo turned when I was nearly on him and grabbed both my wrists, twisting them until I screamed. I unfurled my black wings, flapping them to give me leverage. In my right hand, the dagger hung limply. Theo’s eyes darted to the dagger and then back to me with a wicked grin.
“I was hoping to have the chance to finish you off,” he growled.
Dropping my left hand, he wrapped his gigantic fingers around my neck and squeezed. Black dots filled my vision. I gasped for breath, but nothing came. It was like drowning on dry land.
Theo leaned in close to my ear. The sickly tickle of his breath against my neck made me shudder.
“I wish I had time to really make you scream, but I’m afraid I’m on a deadline.”
The feeling in the rest of my body faded as he dangled me above the floor. The dagger dropped from my hand and landed with a thud on the carpet. This was it. I’d cheated death three times already this week. The fourth time would be my last.
I felt the blast of Gideon’s gun before I heard it. Theo screamed and dropped me, clasping a hand over his shoulder. The sudden availability of air doused my burning lungs and I sucked in several large breaths of the life-giving stuff. Never again would I complain about the air quality in Arcana. It tasted sweet enough for me.
