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“Let us pass,” Clay barked.

“No,” John replied. Hale could almost hear the shrug in the man’s voice, as if he simply didn’t care what Clay wanted.

“We’ll kill you and all the Guardians here if we have to.”

Hale’s heart picked up at Clay’s words, and he secretly hoped the man was bluffing. Except Clay couldn’t bluff about this. They had one goal: close the rift. They couldn’t let anyone get between them and that goal, or the entire world would be lost. Hale tried to lock his gaze on Harrison’s back, to think only about keeping this man alive and safe. If he could protect Harrison, everything would be okay. Or at least, that was the lie he told himself to keep putting one foot in front of the other down the alley.

“Yes, yes, but all of that is unnecessary. You’ve got your adorable little boyfriends now. You’ve got a happy life in that town. Why give all that up? Just give me the spell you use to close the rift. Or how about the new guy? You couldn’t possibly be attached to him already. Give me the new guy, and I’ll release these humans here unharmed. We’ll go our separate ways. It doesn’t need to be more complicated than that.”

Hale didn’t get to hear Grey’s or Clay’s response to John, though he really hoped it was something like “Fuck off.” They had been discovered.

Or maybe this had all been part of a larger trap.

Dozens of pestilents and humans came around the buildings, both in front of them and from behind, blocking off their escape. The ripe scent of rotting death filled the air, gagging Hale and the other Weavers.

“Shit,” Baer muttered under his breath.

“Try not to hurt them,” Harrison pleaded, and Hale’s heart broke a little for the man. They were his family, too.

Hale had started to reach for his gun to pull it from the holster, but he stopped and lifted both of his hands in front of him as he called up a strong gust of wind. He directed it at the horde of people who were closing in on them from behind. At the front of the group, an elephant let out an air-shattering trumpet and the ground shook under pounding feet. If Baer could bulldoze rather than trample, they had a shot at creating an opening. There was a crash of water and a few shots likely fired from Harrison, but Hale kept his attention on the people he was currently pushing back with a hammering wind.

The sounds of more fighting echoed from the next street over, indicating that Clay and Grey had given up on trying to negotiate with John. It had been nothing more than a stalling tactic anyway. There was no way they were giving up anything, and there had been no way John was going to let them out of there alive.

Hale dug deep, calling on all the power the goddess had given him. The wind hammered and pushed at the people. He picked them off one by one, causing them to fall, tumble, and finally roll in the opposite direction. A few tried to cling to anything they could get their hands on to stop their retreat.

Snarling at the stubborn one, Hale increased the wind, swirling it into a mini tornado that just barely fit down the alleyway. The wind lifted people up and tossed them into neighboring yards. He mentally winced a little bit. They might end up with some broken bones and maybe a concussion, but at least they were still alive.

“Hale! Come on!” Calder shouted.

Hale twisted, looking over his shoulder to see that his companions had cleared some of the alley, leaving bodies crumpled and possibly unconscious on the ground. He released his hold on the wind and ran after them, sticking as close as he could to Harrison, whose face was covered in sweat and flushed from the fight.

“You okay?” he demanded.

Harrison glanced over his shoulder at Hale and flashed him a weak smile. “Okay.”

Calder led the way around the corner of the next building to find a large cougar standing at the end of the building, all his hackles standing on end while a low, angry growl rumbled up its throat. More people were scattered about, unconscious and bleeding after their encounter with Baer.

Stuck in the back of the group, Hale couldn’t get a good view of the street, but it was enough to make him sick to his stomach. Chaos reigned, and it was ugly. People were fighting everywhere. Humans against pestilents. Pestilents against Weavers. Weavers against brainwashed humans. There were bodies broken and bleeding in the street, and Hale honestly couldn’t tell if they were humans or pestilents any longer. All he knew was that they weren’t Weavers or mates.

Calder swore softly and turned to Harrison. He grabbed the man’s empty hand and slapped a set of keys into the palm. “We’ll clear the way. You just go.”

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