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Fuckers shot his fiancé.
Caelan grabbed Drayce and shoved him at Rayne. “Heal him on the stairs.”
“Cael!” Drayce shouted, but Rayne was already pulling him inside.
Eno remained hovering at Caelan’s elbow, firing rounds into the hall where the soldiers were hiding. Caelan reached out toward Nyx, and the God of Time laughed.
I knew you’d need me, Nyx purred.
Take it all, Caelan whispered.
A blast of purple-tinged energy snaked along the corridor, slipping inside of one person after another. Caelan couldn’t tell if they were soldiers or innocent government workers in the wrong place at the wrong time. Sadly, he couldn’t bring himself to care. Too many of them wanted to kill them. One of them had shot Drayce.
Tightening his fist, Caelan tugged on the energy from the Dead God, pulling the time from their bodies. The chains rose up and glimmered darkly in the air for a second, then dropped to the floor in a chorus of bright chings.
Caelan opened his hand and held it out toward the loose time, calling it all to him. Mine.
He would make good use of the stolen time later.
With their backs covered on the first floor, Caelan and Eno cut into the stairwell, where they found Rayne and Drayce seated on the first-floor landing.
“I’m okay!” Drayce announced as Caelan moved closer.
“The bullet went straight through. I’m healing the worst of it,” Rayne continued.
“The first floor is cleared for now, but we need to keep moving. They’ll be searching each of the floors to find us,” Caelan directed, trying to ignore the tension that unraveled in his chest. Drayce grinned at him as if a bullet hole in his shoulder was no big deal, but his lover knew Caelan would lose his shit the second Drayce was injured.
The second Rayne had Drayce’s shoulder healed enough that he could properly use the arm in a fight, they were climbing the cement stairs. The smooth concrete walls were painted white and helped to reflect some of the emergency lights that were placed every few feet. It was tempting to block the doors as they reached each new floor so no one could enter the stairwell behind them, but he didn’t want to trap innocent workers who might be trying to escape should the fighting continue to escalate.
By the fourth floor, the prime minister was on his hands and knees, gasping for air and covered in sweat. Caelan might have been a bit winded, but he was beginning to worry that Feroz was going to have a heart attack before he made it up the last flight of stairs.
Kneeling next to the man, Caelan placed his hand on his shoulder and allowed some healing energy to flow into him, checking to make sure his heart wasn’t giving out. “Which way do we go when we leave the stairs?”
“It’s…it’s a…right and another right. Double…double doors at the end of the hall,” the older man panted.
“Thanks!” Caelan pushed to his feet and called ahead. “Adrian, Drayce. Take a listen at the top. See if you can determine how many are waiting for us.”
The two darted ahead while the rest of them lingered behind, waiting for Feroz to catch his breath enough to continue. Unfortunately, the sound of a metal door banging open and shouts soon echoed up the concrete stairwell. More soldiers were pouring in from the first floor and heading up.
Eno swore and took up position in the rear to cover them. The gun he’d used earlier was gone, and his bodyguard had pulled his massive broadsword. Not a great idea in here. There wasn’t nearly enough room for him to swing that thing, and the bullets would kill him before he could even get close.
“Let’s try this first,” Caelan suggested. Standing next to Eno, Caelan stretched out a hand and sent a blast of fire down the stairs. It slithered like a giant earthworm, filling all the available spaces. Men shouted, their footsteps now retreating to the lower levels. He didn’t know how many of them he managed to kill, if any at all, but at least he’d bought them some breathing room.
“Are you trying to cook us?” Drayce called from the fifth-floor landing.
Caelan rolled his eyes and motioned for Eno to head up with him. When they reached the others, Feroz was mopping his sweaty forehead with his sleeve as he leaned heavily against the wall. Drayce and Adrian were at the door, which was cracked open, revealing more dim light.
“Can’t see anyone, but I can hear them. Probably a dozen,” Adrian stated.
“I’ll go through first with a shield in place and push through their forces. You concentrate on getting to the prime minister’s office and opening the secret passageway,” Caelan ordered.
For once, no one argued with his decision to take the lead. It made the most sense. He could most easily take out the New Rosanthe soldiers while they moved to their ultimate target.
Heart hammering in his throat, the door was jerked open on a count of three and Caelan stepped into the hall, the shield automatically springing into place. Bullets bounced off the shield. A cannister smoke bomb clattered along the marble floor to stop near his feet, the wicked thing hissing out a steady stream of thick, gray smoke that choked the air and stung his eyes. Throwing out a hand, Caelan summoned up a blast of wind from the storm that continued to rage outside. Glass shattered and soldiers cried out in surprise, while the sudden gust cleared the smoke from the hallway.
Unwilling to risk the lives of his friends any further or waste more time, Caelan released Nyx’s power across the fifth floor, ripping away time from all the people that stood against him. Little rings of time clinked and bounced while bodies fell lifeless. All while the God of Time cackled in triumph. He might bitch that Caelan wasn’t sharing what he gathered, but he seemed to like the idea that Thia was being brutally reminded of his existence.
“Let’s go,” Caelan barked at his companions. He walked past the elevators and glanced to his left and right to see a scattering of more than a dozen bodies in New Rosanthe uniforms littering the marble tile.
