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“The crown prince of the Carrington estate—no, theirkingnow! A region many of you fled! A region where many of you endured abuse and threats and injustice. They bled you dry like animals or threated you like vermin if you didn’t join their ranks. Some of you weren’t welcome within their borders at all.”
The chatter of the crowd dims, like they’re listening to what he’s saying for the first time since he stepped out here.
“If we turn on each other now, we’re letting them win. We’re handing the power right back to those privileged vampires who have never struggled a day in their lives. Is that what you want?” Westcott yanks Reid back another inch. “Or do you want to send what’s left of them his head?”
I lose all of the air in my lungs, a breathy “No” escaping me.
Adrienne’s fist tightens on my shirt, not urging me forward, but holding me back. If I thought for a second exposing myself would spare Reid, I’d be charging through the crowd. But I know that wouldn’t stop him.
I look around wildly, willing an idea to form.
“We’d rather have yours!”
I still, recognizing the voice immediately, and search the crowd for him. Cam is near the front, only his profile in view.
What the hell is he doing?
If Westcott’s surprised to see him, he doesn’t show it. “Camden,” he says on a sigh, then smiles as his fangs extend. “It’ll be a shame to lose such an asset. But not even you can stop this. Calliope. Would you do the honors?”
The world moves in slow motion as Calla takes a step forward, a stake in her hand. Westcott remains beside Reid, his hand fisted in his hair and pulling his head as far back as it can go against the post. At some point I start running because I feel Adrienne lose her grip on me.
I shove my way through the crowd and dig my nails into my palms until my hands are coated with blood, the magic I don’t know what to do with surging through me. But I have to get that wall down. I have to get to Reid.
Calla raises her arm, that serene, doting smile on her face as she looks at Westcott.
“No!” I scream, my magic reaching for her arm, trying to freeze her muscles, but it can’t cross the barrier.
Reid’s head jerks out of Westcott’s hold at my voice. His eyes find mine, and the resignation in his face pulls a choked sob from my chest.
I reach for the other kind of magic, letting its darkness funnel through the soles of my feet until it fills me. The stake cuts through the air, getting closer and closer, and with a roar, I let every ounce of power burst through me and into the shield—
—as Calla pivots at the last second and sinks the stake into Westcott’s chest instead.
CHAPTERFORTY-FOUR
The barrier shatters like glass.Sparks fill the air as its pieces scatter to the wind. The crowd turns into chaos—shrieking, ducking, and covering their heads from the explosion.
I take off at a sprint toward the platform, that coldness from the magic lingering on my skin, but instead of feeling depleted, it hums with joy, waiting to be used again.
I’m not the only one taking advantage of the opportunity. Others from the crowd charge forward, and the wendigos swarm, trying to fend off a hundred times their number.
Leaving the perfect opening for me.
“He’s not dead!” Calla calls as I reach the platform. There’s a trail of blood at her feet, but Westcott is gone. She points into the crowd.
I grab her arm and pull her close, peering into her eyes and checking her wrist for a pulse. “Is it really—”
“It’s me,” she insists, fishing a set of keys from her pocket. “Where’s Adrienne?”
I whip around. She was right behind me, but now all I see is the chaos of the crowd, turning more violent and restless by the moment.
Calla gives me a small push. “Go. I’ll take care of them.”
She slides the key into Reid’s restraints first, the rest of the world dimming as I meet his eyes.
He nods. “Go. I’ll be right behind you.”
“Get me out of this thing!” Leif yanks at his chains and bares his teeth. “I can help. Get me out!”
