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I know I traced the three younger shadowbloods’ location to the same path that Balthazar’s presence was moving along. Theyhadto be in the helicopter with him.
He’s left them and maybe other shadowbloods inside—why? If he doesn’t want his former colleagues seeing their “property” in his hands, why would he bring them at all?
A whiff of adrenaline reaches me from the lurking guardians below. They’re already preparing to launch themselves at Balthazar just like we are.
But Richmond does still offer the last remaining founder of the Guardianship a brief chance to talk. He lets out a slight scoffing sound. “What’s this, Otto? You’re not even going to let us see your face in person? You’d think we were the ones who attacked you.”
Balthazar’s ominous baritone carries from his ring of bodyguards. “I know you think I’m just a problem to be solved. There’s no need to play friendly.”
Richmond sighs and makes a swift flick of his hand that could be dismissed as fidgeting—except at the next second, a squad of some twenty armed and armored guardians step from the trees, surrounding Balthazar’s group and cutting him off from the helicopter.
Richmond lifts his chin. “You can force your men to die for this, or—"
If Balthazar gives a signal of his own, I don’t know how anyone sees it. But before Richmond gives his second option, a surge of movement explodes from the forest.
Five more shadowbloods spring from the helicopter, all of them teens—Nadia, Booker, and Devon among them. A much greater force charges from between the trees where they must have used their own talents to allow them to prowl unseen.
It only takes the space of my heart’s stutter for chaos to erupt across the concrete field. Blinding light sears through the space, blue lightning sizzles in its midst, and gunshots thunder.
Another second, and the screams start splitting the air. Bodies thud to the ground amid a fierce bellow that sends ripples all the way to my perch, shaking the branch beneath me. Other figures dash around the mass of attackers at supernatural speed.
And in a pause between two streaks of Nadia’s blazing light, my gaze comes to rest on Balthazar himself.
Now that they’ve seen how easily they can take down the guardians, his bodyguards are easing away from him to deal out their own attacks. One’s eyes flare with an unnerving green light; another lashes out with an arm that stretches to twice its normal length.
Between them, they’ve left a gap straight to their master.
He looks exactly as I remember: the mane of silver-and-gold hair, the square jaw, the coldly intent eyes. Exactly like the psychopath he’s proven himself to be over and over again.
I called him Dad once, but only to save my guys. His presence doesn’t stir the faintest hint of a familial bond.
I don’t hesitate. The moment I recognize what I’m seeing, I’m propelling my mental shriek straight into his skull.
In the midst of the bolts of energy and the cacophony of the battle, maybe my concentration isn’t perfect. Just as I feel the vicious energy hit its target, Balthazar flinches—and wrenches his hand toward his pocket.
It’s possible he does have the device he used to interrupt my previous attack on him. It’s even possible he’d have managed to activate it before I lanced my scream into him with even more force, if I were alone.
But I’m not.
Before Balthazar’s fingers quite brush the surface of his jacket, his wrist snaps sideways as if twisted by an invisible force. His forearm cracks in a different direction, the bone raking through the fabric.
And with the extra second Jacob earned me, I throw everything I have into my shriek.
There’s no time for lingering in the torment, as much as I might like to pay this man back for what he did to us like I got to with Matteo. I channel all of my brutal power into the wrinkled organ within his skull.
The neurons cleave apart; the tissue shreds. The bony dome fractures into a thousand pieces.
Life sputters out.
Balthazar’s knees buckle, a single searing jolt of pain resonating from him into me. As he topples over, his body jerks.
It slams into the ground, and his face crumples in. Bloody dents burst across his flesh, smashing his features.
I can picture Zian’s fist pounding into our former captor. Zee is still invisible, but his supernatural strength shows in every break of Balthazar’s skull—until all that remains is a bloody pulp framed by crimson-streaked hair.
Relief sweeps through me, knocking the breath out of my lungs. It’s done. We did it. Balthazar is actually… gone.
I hurl myself from my tree and race to the concrete yard, needing to see the proof up close to confirm it. Needing to taste the tang of our tormenter’s blood in the air.
