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“What can you even do?” I exclaimed. I slapped the window and yelled, “He’s that way!”
“You don’t have a clue what I can do,” he said. I was getting tired of people saying that to me and expecting me to accept it.
“Then tell me!” I replied. “Tell me what you can do.”
“Just trust me,” he growled.
“I don’t.”
“Probably a smart fucking thing.” What did that even mean? The sound that escaped me was indescribable—frustration, anger, and fear all melded into one horrific mess.
His hand slammed to my chest, pushing me back in the seat as he took another turn going too fast. My brain skittered with the loss of traction in his tires. He flew through the side streets of Cedar Harbor like he belonged there until he was slamming on the brakes in our drive.
“Get in the house!” he ordered. Before I could say a word, he was out of the car.
“The hell I am,” I muttered and chased after him, following him to the backyard. I was too worked up to be left sitting and twiddling my thumbs. Declan’s truck halted hard on the gravel just as the gate swung shut.
“What the hell are we doing?” Declan demanded when he and Nolan jogged after us. “What the hell is going on? Why aren’t we back at the house?”
“Because it’s better to separate the lot of you,” Lane retorted. Pointing to the porch, he ordered, “Stay.”
“Like hell we will,” he snapped. “Not until you tell us what’s going on!”
“I’m getting your brother back!” he hollered. When Declan took another step after him, black magic shot from Lane’s hands and hit the three of us. “You’ll do better to stay out of my fucking way.”
I watched him stride across the lawn. Not a chance in hell. I wasn’t letting him do whatever he was going to do without me. Not if it meant saving Killian. I rushed after him, catching up just as his magic gathered in a swirl in front of him.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Lane grumbled, glancing over to see me. “Of course, you are.”
“Of course, I am what?” I asked. My eyes never left the mesmerizing swirl of inky black hovering in the air.
“You stay out of the fucking way, do you understand?” he replied, and I nodded, unable to find words. He chanted words I had no hope of understanding. Over and over on repeat.
Flames erupted around the edges of whatever circular magic hell the magical man was creating. They rippled and forced an image to come into visibility. My heart lurched into my throat as my knees gave out. My fingers dug into the wet dirt, clinging for dear life.
“No…” I let out, the breath knocked out of me with fear. “Ian…”
Clad in a wild array of purple magic, the hunter crouched in front of Killian. On his knees, he was bleeding, and his breathing was ragged. So much blood. She pushed the tip of a blade under his chin and forced him to look at her. Her mouth moved, twisting with a smile as she spoke words I couldn’t hear.
“How?” Lane whispered. I glanced at him, ready to yell at him for help, but faltered. His face contorted with confusion, and his head cocked to the side as he listened intently. I would’ve given anything to know what was happening.
“Save him,” I begged, but I wasn’t even sure Lane could hear me. He shushed me, his brows furrowing deeper. God, it had to be bad.
In one sudden movement, a blast of black magic shot out of his hand through the image. It gripped Killian and yanked him back away from the hunter. He flew across our backyard, tumbling over himself while the image in magic blinked out of existence.
“It’ll buy us fucking time,” Lane said to no one in particular. He rushed across the lawn as I scrambled to follow after him.
Killian wasn’t moving. My mind spiraled with the inevitable as I knelt next to him. My hands trembled. I didn’t know where to touch him. There was so much blood. Tears blurred my vision.
“Ian…” I whispered, my breath catching in my throat. “Please… please, wake up…”
“Come on, you stubborn asshole,” Lane growled. He grabbed Killian’s face, giving him a hard shake. “Fuck. Wake up, you asshole. I need you to fucking whistle.”
“Whistle?” Nolan asked from somewhere behind us, but Lane ignored him.
“Wake up!” He pressed two fingers to Killian’s neck. “Fuck. Not fast enough… fucking hell, Byrne. Wake your sorry ass up and whistle, damn it!”
“Why… why… why whistle?” I struggled to articulate the words I wanted to say.
