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Chapter Twenty
Breaking
Logan stared at me, apparently unable to form an appropriate response. I pretty much felt the same way. Of all the things we’d been after, of all the things we’d been hoping for, this wasn’t even a consideration. All we’d planned on was some spectacular talent of Emily’s. Some way to stop Morgan. A hidden thing, really. Not this.
Not this.
“Is it …” he started, his thumbs slowly crossing my palms as we stood frozen. “Is it like the old ways?” He was being careful with me, the shock not stealing from him the knowledge that this might hurt me, that I was a shade. A shadow.
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “I haven’t … I mean, I didn’t even realize it was so strong.” I glanced at our hands, the tattoos. “I was only trying to mend the connections, Logan. I didn’t realize …”
It was starting to sink in. The gravity of what had happened, of what I’d done. I said, “I need to sit down.” The words were flat, emotionless. I couldn’t even process how I felt about it.
Logan went with me, both of us finding the edge of the sofa, and we sat, wordless and without movement, struck still by the enormity of it. Time must have passed, unaccounted, because Emily came in, breathless and impatient from being forced to wait.
“What is it?” She knelt before me, hands hovering over mine where they lay palms open, tattoos exposed. “Brianna, what happened?”
My eyes met hers, identical despite everything else. Sea glass green, lit by tiny sparks of amber. “It worked,” I told her. My palms spread, fingers splaying open in a gesture of helplessness, explanation. She stared at them, not sure whether to recoil or reach for them, and I laughed, an edge of hysteria coloring my tone. “It worked, Emily. We did it.”
She flushed, excitement or adrenaline, or some other wild emotion boiling in her blood, and said, “It’s over?”
“Well,” I shook my head, relief warring with reason, “I …” But I couldn’t think, couldn’t decide. Surely this was it. The key we needed to stop Morgan. I had found Emily’s connections, was just short of repairing them all, and now this. This in me.
But it was a turn, wasn’t it? The power coming back, the things that I could do so similar to the visions, so close to the picture of fire. Inferno.
“It has to be,” I said. “This must be it.”
It was over. Eighteen years of living under a prophecy, and we were about to break free, to fulfill a destiny that was set forth thousands of years ago. Everything we’d lost, everything that had been taken from us, was for this. She took my hands and smiled, and it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen on her, finally, completely free of worry and stress. It was nothing but relief, and freedom. Because it was over.
And then a piercing ache tore through my chest as a vision began. “No,” I whispered, my hands squeezing hers too tight. Her face was awash with blood and fire as Morgan’s men tore through the city.
“Brianna,” Emily cried, tightening her hands, pulling me back. I opened my eyes, but whatever she saw there frightened her more than my words ever could have. She was on her feet, ready to fight. To protect us.
The door burst open and Aern was running in, Logan on his feet, the room seeming to spin around us. I closed my eyes tight, pressed my palms against my temples. Focused.
“He’s coming,” Aern said, and the image of Morgan—dark suit and malicious smile as he walked into the Council’s main hall—swam in my vision. We only had minutes. They were all there, Seth, Kara, Wesley, they’d not gotten free from the building before the warning came, before Morgan had decided to make his move.
“They can’t fight him,” I said, gaze going to Aern. “Stop them.”
A quick nod answered my warning, and I realized there were other men, waiting for Aern’s instruction. He barked an order and a wiry man with dark blue eyes disappeared, the beat of his steps dissolving into the hallway. Two more stood there, armed and ready.
“He’ll approach at the west entrance,” I said. “If they try to stop him,” my eyes cut to Logan, to Emily, “he’s got explosives. Fire.” The sway.
Aern’s gaze was unflinching. “And if we let him come?”
I bit my lip, took Emily’s hand. “I just need to find it. The one last piece.”
He nodded. “The walls are stronger in the central rooms. We should wait there.” My pulse skipped, the tempo giving me strength I knew I didn’t have. He was taking us to the main hall, the one from my vision. This was it.
The four of us moved through the corridor, Aern’s men rushing forward and behind, packs of soldiers that could do nothing to prevent this attack, and I held Emily’s hand, searching for the link that would free her power. Aern would delay things as long as possible, I knew that. He’d do whatever it would take to give us that time.
But if it didn’t work, it was Emily that would pay the price.
Logan’s hand went to his ear, the small device back in place. “He’s on Langhorn, cutting over to Thompson. There’s a group moving in from the east as well, and three more waiting for the go-ahead.”
“How many?” Emily asked, steeling herself for what was about to come, for the numbers we’d be facing.
Logan looked at her, jaw tight, and it was answer enough.
