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Octavius lingered at the truck, keeping an eye on the forest, should Mikalis reappear. Saint would be fine. All he had to do was run. Restless, Octavius eyed the forest again.
No, they’d made a plan. He could not go after Saint. They’d meet later. This was going to work.
Saint would fight, wouldn’t he? He’d fought Mikalis in the street, throwing him into a semi. But Octavius had been there then. And they’d fought again at the gas station. Again, with Octavius. What if Saint thought hecouldn’twin? What if he didn’t want to? He’d asked him to keep Jayden safe… Did he truly not believe he was coming back?
“Damnit, Saint.”
The chopper’s tail dropped, the nose lifted, and the blades kicked up a maelstrom of dust in the parking lot as its skids bounced down.
Zaine’s distinctive flash of blond hair confirmed what Octavius needed to see. The Brotherhood Viking jumped from the heli’s cab, ducked from the downdraft, and made his way over with enough swagger in his stride to make his intentions clear. Sure enough, he blurred the last few steps, picked Octavius up by the neck, and slammed him against the truck so hard, the truck tires screeched backward on the asphalt.
“Traitor,” Zaine snarled. “I should rip your heart out now.”
“I’m surrendering.” Octavius raised his hands, still clamped by the neck. “Take me in. I’m done.”
“Damn right, you’re done. Mikalis is going to execute you for this.”
Mikalis, the god. The reason they each carried a hungry, vicious parasite inside them, the reason the world was going to end in a few months’ time. But Octavius wasn’t thinking about that. He just needed to have Zaine listen to the truth about Raiden. That was all. The rest of it was too much.
Octavius nodded and kept his hands up. “I get it, I do. I’m not fighting. See? Take me in.”
Zaine muscled Octavius toward the chopper, its blades still whirring and Storm waiting in the pilot seat. Storm’s glare sliced into Octavius’s heart. It was sharp, not with hatred, but disappointment. Storm had always been the more reasonable one, the one who somehow balanced Mikalis’s tunnel vision and the needs of each of them. It hurt, knowing he’d let Storm down. It was going to hurt a lot more in a few seconds.
“Sit your ass down,” Zaine ordered.
Octavius climbed into the bench seat behind Storm. As soon as Zaine was in the front, Storm lifted the chopper into the air and climbed high into the sky.
Octavius searched the forest, but there was no sign of a battle, no sign of two ancient beings tearing into each other. Maybe Saint had already lured Mikalis far away.
“Where’s Saint?” Zaine yelled over the churn of the engines.
Octavius blinked at him. “Saint?”
“Yeah, dick. You’re working with him. So where is he?”
“I wasn’t.” Octavius turned his face away and peered out of the window. They were high now, several thousand feet. But the night was clear. He could still make out the tiny twinkling lights from towns below.
They hadn’t restrained him, probably thinking there was little point this high up. They could overpower him, Storm and Zaine against him, two on one. Unless Octavius evened the odds.
He didn’t want to do this, but they’d left him no choice.
“You fed from the motel clerk,” Zaine was saying. When he glanced back, the disgust on his face stabbed again at Octavius’s chest. This pain was why it was better to distance himself. If he cut out his own heart, nobody could do it for him.
Octavius closed his eyes and listened to the chopper’s engines, its beat. He’d flown her a thousand times, knew her like the back of his hand. And he knew her breaking points, knew how to pull her out of a spin…
Octavius kicked out, buckling the back of Storm’s seat, slamming him face-first into the controls. He grunted, and the chopper pitched forward and rolled over in the air, tumbling into a spin. Gravity grabbed hold, trying to fling them out. Zaine let out a yell. Octavius lunged between the front seats, cracked a fist across Storm’s shocked face, and grabbed the emergency door release handle. The door flung open, and with the pull of gravity, Storm was already half out, trying to cling on.
Octavius braced against the swirling motion, caught Storm’s wide-eyed expression, then kicked him hard between the eyes, booting him out of the chopper. He vanished, swallowed by the spiraling blackness and spinning stars. He’d survive the fall, but not without breaking some bones.
Octavius dropped into the pilot’s seat, grabbed the control sticks, and wrestled the chopper under control.
Zaine tried to grab at him, and Octavius held up a finger. Just one finger, buying himself a couple of precious seconds.
“Can you fly a chopper?!” Octavius yelled.
“The fuck! You kicked Storm out!”
“Touch me, and we’ll be heading down after him. I don’t want to be minced by rotor blades, do you?!”
