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“New Rosanthe has been experimenting with some new piercing rounds. These assholes must have lucked into a few cases of them,” Adrian added. “Yet another reason to lose them as quickly as possible.”
“Well, I’d love to do something, but I can’t aim any magic at them if I can’t see them,” Caelan complained.
Drayce growled softly, the sound rumbling far deeper than it should have for someone with a chest as narrow as his. It was a nice reminder that Drayce was also part grumpy, overprotective dragon, and every second that he didn’t shift into that dragon and flambé the pursuing Empire soldiers was a small miracle in itself. “Fine, but don’t get your head shot off. I’ll be really pissed.”
His lover shifted so he wasn’t covering Caelan with his own body, allowing Caelan to rise. Before Caelan eased upward, he grabbed Drayce’s hand and pressed a quick kiss to the inside of his wrist. He knew what it cost him to let Caelan put himself in danger, because Caelan felt the same way anytime Drayce jumped into a potentially deadly situation.
“Flirt,” Drayce mumbled.
Caelan flashed him a smirk as he sat up and peered cautiously over the seat. The rear window was only partially shattered, making it difficult to see through the crackled glass. There were two jeeps behind them with men hanging out the sides, firing automatic weapons. Bullets zipped around them and hammered the metal of their car. Getting an exact target would be impossible.
I could do it, Tula whispered through his mind. He could already feel the power of the Goddess of Life reaching out and latching on to the eight souls that were following them. It wouldn’t take much to just squeeze the life out of them. Or even command a couple of them to turn their weapons on their comrades.
A sick feeling sloshed through Caelan’s stomach. He was tired of the senseless killing. Yes, these soldiers threatened their lives, but they were following orders. They probably didn’t even know what the Emperor and Safa planned. There was no way they would have followed those orders if they’d known setting the Goddess of the Hunt free meant killing them all.
No, he replied, slamming down his control over her gift once again. No more killing if I can help it.
We’ll see how long that lasts, one of the gods snorted. Sadly, he couldn’t even be sure from which direction that thought came. Maybe it was echoed by all of them.
Caelan ducked his head and squeezed his eyes shut. He needed to concentrate. There had to be something he could do that wouldn’t automatically spell the end of the New Rosanthe men.
Nyx was obviously out, which left the Dead God in a pout. Tula was also out. Her every urge was to snap their bodies like twigs, and she wasn’t offering up the ability to send them off to sleep. Kaes was out as well. Caelan wasn’t sure that he could aim a lightning bolt with the needed accuracy to hit a moving vehicle. It would be just his luck to strike their own car.
That left Caris, the Goddess of Fire.
Who gave an excited squeal in his head and a snap of her fan. To his surprise, he thought he could also sense Nyx’s warm amusement. Did the God of Time really care for his fiery goddess?
Another time. Now wasn’t the moment for dealing with gods and drama.
The only problem with Caris was that he’d not attempted to use his power from the Goddess of Fire yet. He had no idea if he could control it without setting their own vehicle on fire. But it wasn’t like he had another option.
Sucking in a deep breath, Caelan popped up and reached his hand over the seat toward the opening in the rear window. His hand immediately became engulfed in dancing flames. “Rayne, get on the floor!”
His advisor swore and dropped, the seat jolting as his body hit it. Caelan directed a blast of flames out of the car and into the engine block of the jeep closest to them. Tires squealed and the vehicle jerked wildly, running off the road as the shouts of the men filled the air.
Caelan pulled his hand back, closing off the power so that the flames disappeared.
“What the fuck!” Adrian shouted, their vehicle swerving as he struggled to stay on the road.
“That was toasty!” Eno laughed.
“I feel like a broiled chicken,” Rayne complained.
“But are you okay?” Caelan demanded.
“I’ll survive,” his advisor grumbled. “The other vehicle?”
“Give me a sec.” Caelan had ducked and sucked in several deep breaths. That had left him feeling drained and more than a little light-headed. He needed a moment to center himself before trying to take out the other car.
“The first one is out of commission,” Eno stated.
“Okay. I’m ready. Rayne?”
“Go!” Rayne shouted and Caelan jumped up. He extended his hand outward again, fire sliding along his fingers, then shooting out the back of the vehicle. The cloth covering the seats was scorched and the glass in the broken window melted away like ice in the midday sun. The scent of burning fabric and stuffing filled the air of the vehicle and Caelan coughed, trying hard not to breathe.
When the sound of screeching tires reached his ears, Caelan released the power of the Goddess of Fire and fell against his door, panting hard. The world was spinning around him, and something was tugging at his consciousness, pulling him toward a swirling darkness. He would not pass out. He absolutely refused. The last time he’d lost consciousness when using the gifts of the gods was with Kaes. There had been no problems with Tula or Nyx.
Help him, Tula, Caris snarled. Pouting isn’t going to keep your chosen one alive.
