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Thankfully, aside from the raven, no one was on his tail as he neared the eastern edge of the city, the thickening fog blotting out the sun completely by the time he reached the border fence. Without slowing, he took a flying leap over the barrier and landed in a crouch, hand planted on the ground—
And he immediately felt it, the perpetual give and shake these parts were known for ever since the Rift. Except these weren’t the usual shifts that came from unstable ground, not like the shifting silt under his feet last week. No, these vibrations were bigger, rippling under the surface, a futile attempt to relieve the pressure that seemed to be pushing up against the ground.
The instability was likely the reason no other eyes glowed out of the fog at him and why no other birds joined the one that landed on a crumbling set of stone stairs across from him.
And hopped right back into the air, wings flapping.
Kraa!
“Exactly,” Icarus said. “We’re fucked.” They had five, maybe ten minutes if he was judging the vibrations correctly. No time to waste. “Do you know where he is exactly?”
Cormac glided down onto his shoulder and gave a plaintive croak.
No, then. He probably hadn’t had time to scout ahead, and with the mounting fog, flying solo would be a risk. Icarus could locate Adam instantly, but it would be another risk added to the mounting stack. If there were any paranormals hiding in the fog, it would be a flashing neon light announcing his presence, assuming they were worried about anything other than scurrying the fuck out of there.
Fuck it. What was one more risk at this point? He stilled, closed his eyes, and opened his ears, searching beyond the heartbeat on his shoulder. For the only one that mattered. Racing and strong, his own heart recognized the thump even as the world raged around them. He moved in time with the beats, rushing alongside it. As soon as he heard voices, as soon as shadowy figures appeared at the edge of the fog ten or so yards away, Icarus forced his steps to falter, cutting the connection.
But not before a sizzle of magic zipped toward him. If not for the fog, Icarus was sure moss green eyes would be locked on his position. He was surprised when no other spells were cast in his direction. What the fuck was the warlock playing at? Was the initial flash merely an acknowledgement, or was Atlas drawing him in and setting a trap? The obnoxious warlock didn’t need to do the latter. Icarus was approaching regardless. Avoiding traps while doing so would be a bonus.
Cormac took off above him, circling, and Icarus waited. The bird returned several seconds later, banking left, and Icarus followed. As he edged closer, the voices grew louder, as did the crash of waves. They were right at the edge, the thinning fog confirming as much, spray dissipating the heavy mist. He ducked behind a crumbling pillar, then peeked around it, laying his eyes on the stomach-churning scene.
Atlas held two shifters to the ground with orbs of magic—Adam’s coyote second and the cat from Paris’s place the other night. She’d been a plant?Fuck!She’d been the one who’d helped rescue the kid; that’s why she’d seemed familiar. Surrounding them were several other shifters and paranormals, including Paris’s other guard, the one like Icarus.
“Biggest mistake I ever made was letting you live that day.” Vincent’s voice drew Icarus’s gaze to the nightmare scene unfolding on the jetty. He muffled his gasp in his elbow. Adam was on his knees, Vincent in front of him, a gun pointed at his head. “You’ve been a thorn in my side for ten fucking years.”
Adam didn’t look the least bit frightened. Chin held high, eyes steely, he glared at Vincent like he was invincible. “You thought a human wouldn’t come after you.”
“I thought a cop would be smart enough to know better.”
“You took everything from me. I promised myself I wouldn’t meet them again until I took everything from you.”
Not invincible. Just had a fucking death wish. Cormac had been right the other night.
“Looks like you’re going to fall short of that promise.”
Not if Icarus could help it. Adam’s words from earlier rang in his ears.Safe with you.Icarus would hold up his end of that bargain. Fangs descending, fingers stretching for maximum damage, claws growing out from under his black nails, he mentally calculated how many throats he could slash before Atlas downed him, before one of the other paranormals attacked him, before Vincent got a shot off with that gun.
That gun.
He peered through the fog and thought he recognized the weapon—and if he did, if he was right. He had an advantage only Adam realized. He just needed a fucking distraction, a few seconds to buy time, to get the jump on the enemy and put that advantage to use. He put his hand to the ground and silently begged Nature to win this skirmish, prayed she could sense him like she had since they were foster siblings. Like she had since their transformations thirty years ago. Like she had when he’d rang her on the phone the other morning.
Hearing his plea, she entered the battle, ready for a fucking war. With a kick hard enough to topple the pillar he was hiding behind, the ground buckled, and Icarus rolled with it. He came up snarling behind one shifter and broke his neck. Dashed to the next, broke his neck too. Tore out the heart of the third with his claws while tearing out the jugular of the fourth with his fangs.
Cormac shrieked overhead a second before claws tore across Icarus’s back. He howled and turned, ready to return the favor, so sure it was the woman from the other night, but he was saved the hassle by Adam’s two shifter guards, who took her out from behind.
“Go get him!” Jenn shouted. “The ground’s not stable enough for us.”
Icarus spun again, and his heart dropped upon seeing Vincent, gun arm raised, backing Adam up to the tip end of the crumbling jetty. Atlas was running in their direction, but the raven dive-bombed him, halting his progress, the delay enough for Icarus to speed ahead of him, out onto the jetty.
But Vincent fired before he could make it. The gun blast echoed, the bullet streaking out of the barrel and heading straight for Adam’s head.
Icarus leapt, taking the risk, praying he was right about the gun. Spinning in the air, he landed between the mobster and the Devil, absorbing the impact of the bullet.
The lead bullet.
Vincent’s brown eyes widened impossibly as Icarus snatched the gun out of his hand and turned it around on him—
And then the earth shook, more powerfully, more terrifyingly than it had a minute ago. A globe of moss green magic surrounded Vincent, and he was gone with a snap, wrapped in Atlas’s magic.
