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For several heartbeats, all I could do was watch Fin pummel the guy he held pinned beneath him on the ground.
“Mom!” Liam shouted, his voice knocking me back to my senses. We may have gained the upper hand—for the moment—but that would evaporate the instant the slavers broke through the church doors.
I spun around and sprinted toward one of the boarded-up windows on the side of the church, this one missing one of the lower boards. I fumbled with the grenade’s pin as I closed the final few steps to the side of the building.
I had a narrow view of abandoned tables topped with playing cards, dice, bowls of stew, and bottles of booze. People were scattered, searching for another exit or clustered toward the front of the former church, trying to get out. If they focused their efforts, they would be able to break through.
I finally pulled the grenade’s pin free and tossed it into the church through the narrow opening, then I backed away toward the wagons behind me. Wisps of cloudy white gas escaped through the opening in the window boards, but thankfully, that was the only thing that got out.
I yelped when hands gripped my arms, and bucked against the restraining hold.
“It’s me,” Fin said, gathering me into his arms. “It’s just me.”
I let out a sob of relief and relaxed against him. The shouts and banging from within the church were quieting, the gas making quick work of the captive slavers.
“I’ll go check the door I barred in the back,” Callon said, rushing around the corner of the church, and I felt Fin nod.
I turned around. Fin’s face was smeared with crimson, and my brows bunched as I searched every part of him I could see for an injury.
“It’s not my blood,” he told me. “Mostly.”
My chin quivered, and I pressed trembling fingers to his scruffy cheek. “I thought I was going to lose you.”
His eyes sparked defiantly. “Never,” he said, pressing a hard kiss to my lips. “You’re stuck with me, now.”
35
Fin
“The third guard!” Lyra warned from inside the cage. Del and I spun around just as he lifted his pistol, aiming at us from across the clearing. He didn’t get a chance to pull the trigger, though.
A rifle fired. The horses spooked and tugged at their ties, and a bullet went straight through the guard’s head. He blinked, dropped his unfired pistol, and fell to his knees before careening face-first into the dirt.
Callon lowered his rifle from where he stood at one of the hitching posts. His shoulders hunched, and his chest heaved with relief. “That was close,” he said, dripping with exhaustion.
“Too close,” I told him. “Thank you.” I stared into my best friend’s eyes. It wasn’t the first time he’d saved my life.
Ada rushed out from behind the mausoleum to Callon to ensure he was okay, placing a hand on his arm as their eyes met.
The horses nickered anxiously, and Del and I let out a collective sigh as the wagons shifted with anxious bodies.
“Liam,” Del breathed.
“Mom!” he croaked. She ran to the cage our son was locked in.
Though it tore at me to watch Liam reach through iron bars to grasp hold of Del, I exhaled my relief now that he was safe and ran my hand through my hair.
“I’ll figure out how to turn the device off,” Ada offered.
“Don’t destroy it,” I said, turning to her. “We might need it.”
She agreed, but hearing quiet whimpers, I turned back to Del.
“It’s all right,” she promised Liam. Gripping the bars with one hand, she wiped a stray tear from his cheek with the other. “We’ll get you out of there—all of you.” Her gaze swept the weary, dirt-streaked faces peering out from the cages.
“Everyone get back,” Hills said, jiggling the rusty cage door to check its integrity.
Del looked at her, nodding as she put space between herself and the wagon.
