But where was the press now? It was vital that the scene was recorded so that the public could see our strength. I noticed some helicopters in the distance, but I wasn’t sure what they were.
“Ibrahim.” I addressed the warlock. “I would like you to keep an eye on the stages of the battle. Let everybody know when to enter in turn. And once everybody here has left for the battlefield, stay here and wait for the dragons. They shouldn’t take too long. When they arrive you can send them to us immediately, and you can join us too. Is that all right?”
“Yes, Derek,” Ibrahim replied.
I drew in a breath before turning to the Hawks. I climbed onto the back of a Hawk who carried two guns. I took one from him and held it in one hand. As we rose up, I fished in my pocket for my phone and switched it to camera mode. In case there was nobody else recording, I could capture everything from a close-up perspective. A very close-up perspective.
We flew over the buildings and hurtled toward the river. My Hawk flew at the front of the flock, and there were so many of us, we stretched out in the sky like an ominous cloud. I pointed toward the direction of the mutants. We sped up, closing the gap, even as everyone prepared their guns.
We managed to make good ground before the IBSI noticed us. I caught sight of my daughter, her eyes trained on me, a few moments before everybody else looked in our direction.
“Brace yourselves,” I roared, as the hunters began firing. It was difficult to shoot properly with one hand, but I was going to have to manage it for as long as possible.
If we could show that we were strong enough to defeat the IBSI in their own territory, then we were strong enough to defeat everything that the IBSI was capable of defeating.
I was grateful to Ibrahim for taking the time to train the Hawks. As swift and vicious as they were capable of being—and I had first-hand experience of their strength while saving Sofia from the clutches of Arron, many, many years ago—they were not scaled like dragons and were still vulnerable to bullets.
We fired our guns toward the IBSI. I was focused on the man who appeared to be leading them all. I couldn’t be sure who it was, for he wore a mask, but I wondered if perhaps it might be Atticus.
As the hunters’ firing intensified, the mutants’ screeches piercing the night, the witches surged behind us. They quickly created a massive invisible shield around us that caused all the bullets shooting our way to bounce off and go hurtling in the opposite direction—some even making it back to the IBSI.
Let’s see how much you feel like firing now.
The hunters’ confidence broke. They stopped rushing toward us so quickly. Gripping the reins of their mutants, they pulled them back, retracing their flight in the sky. The League behind them took advantage of the distraction we had caused and began to close in on them from their side, too. Realizing that we were trapping them in a deadly sandwich, the hunters began to drop down to the city for shelter.
Some shelter they’ll find down there.
Ibrahim was supposed to be monitoring the scene, and seeing them descend should trigger him to send in our ground warriors… though, on second thought, it was still too early for that. We hadn’t managed to injure enough mutants yet. Not nearly enough. Although they were closer to ground level, the hunters were still using the beasts to shoot about, either by running or by flying low to the ground. I feared that it was still too dangerous for the ogres and werewolves to come in. They were no match for the mutants’ fire.
Forced to pause my filming, I dialed Ibrahim’s number. He picked up after a single ring.
“Wait before you send in the rest,” I told him. “We need to weaken the mutants first and get more IBSI members on the ground before we’re ready for them. Though as soon as the dragons arrive, you can send them in.”
Ibrahim agreed to keep everybody on standby. I hung up.
“Where are you going?” I bellowed down to a group of hunters scattering with their mutants around the buildings. “Come back and defend your right to rule!”
It was a smart move on their part to move to the ground, at least as smart a move as they could make given the circumstances we’d put them in.
It was easier for them to spread themselves out here. They could hide behind buildings and pop out at unexpected moments. It was hard for the League’s army to travel together in one solid, shielded block because of this. We were forced to split up in order to go chasing after the hunters. The landscape divided us, making us weaker. But not weak enough.
Yells and bullets ricocheted off the buildings, the atmosphere alight with tension.
The hunters might have made this a more drawn-out process for us, but they weren’t going to escape now. Going into this, a part of me had been hoping that they would flee the scene of the battle when witnessing the scale of our people, flee back to their base, which would be basically admitting surrender to us. But these hunters were tougher, more stubborn than that. It looked like they planned to stay and fight to the very end.
I caught sight of Sofia riding atop Neros. Relief shone in her eyes as they locked with mine.
I addressed the Hawk. “Can you transfer me to that dragon, please?”
Once the Hawk drew close enough, I leapt onto his back, sliding myself behind my wife. I slipped an arm around her waist, pressing my lips against the back of her cool neck.
“I thought you’d failed,” she said breathlessly.
I squeezed her, tsking. “And I thought you knew me better than that, Mrs. Novak. Failure is not a word in my dictionary.”
Lawrence
Everyone let out audible sighs of relief when Derek’s army came into view. He’d made it. Late. But he’d made it nonetheless. Now we were going to have to do the best that we could to salvage the situation.
As the fighting started up again and we launched at the hunters with renewed strength—myself sharing a dragon with Kiev—I glanced over at the press helicopters. They inched a tad closer as our new flurry of activity started. I hoped that they would draw closer still.
Although the dragon was leading us to rejoin the battle, I had something more important to do first. I requested the dragon to drop me off on the roof of a building about a mile away—away from the epicenter of the danger. I broke open the door to a stairwell leading down into the building and took a seat on one of the steps so that I could make a phone call without distraction.
I dialed the old government official’s number. Fowler was his name.
I feared that he might not even pick up. But he did, after five rings.
“It’s Lawrence,” I said immediately. “Don’t hang up. There’s been a development. Our backup has arrived and we’re driving the IBSI out of their own territory as we speak. We will win and take control of the Chicago situation. We will then do the same with New York. Get back over here, and you can witness the same for yourself. Or, better still, allow the reporters to continue doing their damn job. You never should’ve shut them down to begin with.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line. I could hear the man’s uneven breathing. “I-I’ll have a reporter stream footage to us,” he said, “so we can verify the situation for ourselves.”
“Be our guest,” I told him.
With that, I hung up. A feeling of satisfaction swelled within me as I gazed down at the phone.
I knew that Fowler would not waste time in verifying the facts himself. They were just as desperate as we were to see the backs of the IBSI. They wanted us to take over; they simply needed us to prove that we were capable of it.
And finally, we were.
Once he’d verified the situation, we should be back on track with our original plan.
I slipped the phone back into my pocket and returned to the roof. I gazed up at the sky, looking for a dragon, a witch, or even a Hawk, who could swoop down to pick me up and allow me to rejoin the battle.
With a deafening shriek, something did swoop down—sooner than I even saw it coming.
The next thing I k
new, I was trapped within the talons of a mutant, and hurtling over a several-hundred-feet freefall.
Ben
Once Atticus’s men came for him, we knew that the clock was ticking in regards to how much longer we could keep him hostage. Either we had to get rid of the distraction, or leave, allowing Atticus to go free.
I was unwilling to do the latter. As they burst through the door of Atticus’s office, Kailyn and I launched at the men. Taking them by surprise, we slammed books into their heads, knocking them out. This bought us some more time. We dragged them into the hallway and left them there unconscious.
Then we returned to Atticus, who was still looking fairly calm. He’d scored a victory in getting all of the major news channels shut down. And even though he was trapped in here with us, unable to make contact with anyone outside, he knew what was happening now. Just like we did. The IBSI would be in the process of regaining control. But we weren’t ready to leave yet. Not now that we had him. I was still holding out hope that my father would arrive, albeit late. And as the news channels suddenly flickered on again, depicting an epic battle taking place in Chicago’s residential quarters, my hope was realized.
“Thank heavens!” Kailyn exclaimed, moving closer to the screen and gaping.
My father had arrived with an army of Hawks and witches. On witnessing the sheer number of supernaturals he’d brought with him, I felt a resurgence of confidence.
We can do this. I know we can!
My eyes shot to Atticus, still bound to his chair. “Well,” I taunted, “what do you make of this?”
His face was stony, and as much as I could tell that he was trying to hide his dismay, emotions trickled through.
He did not respond.
I snatched up the landline on his desk.
“It’s over,” I told him. “Can’t you see? Tell your men to withdraw now and you will spare many of your employees’ lives.” Not that you care.
Atticus’s mouth remained pressed in a hard line. Witnessing the IBSI members continuing to put up a fight was a disappointment to me. In the face of such an army as my father had summoned, I was hoping that some would’ve surrendered. But from the looks of it, none had. Perhaps we needed to fight them longer before they dared to jump ship. Assert our superiority beyond a shadow of a doubt. I imagined the brainwashing they would’ve received from the organization, and the fear in their hearts if they ever broke away from it. Considering the IBSI’s history of tracking people down and assassinating them, I could hardly blame them.
I glared at Atticus. “Well, in that case, perhaps we will take you outside to give you a better view.”
Lawrence
The mutant flew with me over the streets, flying at such an angle that I struggled to even twist around within its grasp. But when I managed it, I found myself gazing up at a hunter. Oliver Hyatt, no less. He wasn’t wearing his mask, and as I glanced up at him, he glared down at me.
“You started all this, Lawrence,” he said, his voice menacing.
Reaching another roof, the mutant dropped me. I fell to the ground, softening my fall with my forearms, before shooting to my feet. When I had been swept up by the mutant, the shock of it had caused me to drop my gun. I still had my blades tucked into my belt, but as Oliver stepped off the mutant and advanced toward me, he was holding a gun.
“What do you think you will gain by shooting me?” I asked him. “Do you think my father will be pleased?”
The answer to that was probably yes, but I was curious to hear it from his own lips.
“Whether or not your father would be pleased,” the man replied, “doesn’t matter. Because he will never know.” His lips curled. “The dead don’t talk, Lawrence.”
Oliver pulled the trigger, a bullet shooting from the barrel. With my supernatural speed, I managed to duck in time before it could hit me. I jerked backward, across the roof, and threw myself behind a cluster of thick pipes.
I reached for the knives in my belt and pulled them out. Then, both swiftly and cautiously, I raised my head slightly to glimpse the approaching hunter. He fired again. I ducked, the bullet bouncing off a metal pipe, only inches away from my ear.
“You’re wasting your time,” I called out.
Crouching low, I moved to my right along the pipes, to the edge of the roof. The reason for my uttering that particular statement was to mark my location in his mind—before hurrying away from it. My trick worked. As I poked my head up again, he was still watching the area where I had spoken, giving me the chance to raise one of my knives and hurl it in Oliver’s direction.
But to my alarm, he dodged it in time.
There was no way that he could’ve done that had he been a normal human. The knife would’ve hit him square in the chest.
Instead he moved as swiftly as I was capable of moving. He must have taken the enhancement drug too. He was on my level.
Dammit.
I tightened my grip around the handle of my remaining blade. My eyes raked the sky. A dragon or a Hawk hanging around here would really come in useful right now. But I could not depend on being saved.
“Why don’t you throw the other knife, Lawrence?” Oliver’s voice spoke behind me. “I’m ready for it.”
He shot another bullet in my direction. It wasn’t safe to take shelter behind this cluster of pipes any longer. I loped across the roof, dodging as he fired more bullets my way. I threw myself behind the wall of a rectangular storage chamber. Perhaps for gas or electricity. I knew that this was going to be a short-lived game of hide and seek. I had to get off this roof. I heard his footsteps circling the walls. I inched around, leading him along, until I found myself on the side of the mutant.
That mutant. As I stared at it now, I realized that I recognized it—him. It was Jez. He was a popular choice for IBSI leaders to take out on a ride because of his obedience and easy-going nature compared to the other younger beasts.
The fact that he didn’t immediately launch at me again when he saw me told me that he recognized me too. He had scooped me up before because it had been an order from his rider, but now that he had no rider… He was showing no signs of wanting to attack me.
Attempting to buy myself some more time and come up with a plan, I circled the walls again, to avoid Oliver.
When I roamed around the walls for a third time and the mutant came into view, still waiting in the same spot, I was about to simply launch myself at him, deeming that the best way out of the situation. But I stalled as Oliver shouted out in frustration, “Oh, come on, Lawrence. Stop running away. I didn’t know you were such a coward.”
Says the man holding a gun.
“I’ll drop my gun if you like. Why don’t you fight me, man to man?”
I swallowed. I didn’t like the idea of running away, either. I would much rather face him and finish him off if that was what it took to get him off my tail.
“Throw your gun away then,” I told him. “Throw it toward the mutant, where I can see it.”
I was surprised when Oliver did exactly that. That could have just been a trick by me—have him throw it there before I scooped it up. But apparently he believed that I had enough integrity to not do that. And I did. I respected him for putting the gun down. I didn’t put my own blade down in turn, however. I wasn’t that stupid. He could still be equipped with some hidden weapon because I hadn’t searched him yet.
I peered around the corner cautiously to check that he did not have a second gun on his person. He didn’t.
He was standing in the middle of the roof. He had nothing in his hands. He rolled up his sleeves as he glared at me. Then he raised a brow. “Not going to put down your own weapon?”
“Turn around,” I told him.
He did so, and since I couldn’t see any telltale signs of a weapon on him, I placed my weapon down. The mutant let out a squawk as the two of us began to circle. Our eyes locked.
He leapt forward first, rushing at me with his fists bared. He swung a punch at me, but I blocked, just
as swiftly. Then I went in for the takedown. Throwing myself at his knees, I floored him before crawling on top of him. We each moved as fast as the other as he struggled to break free while I fought to maintain my control over him. I managed to knee him in the groin, weakening him, while catching his neck in a firm hold. In spite of all the evil he was responsible for perpetrating, I couldn’t say that I truly wanted to kill him. I was tired of bloodshed. I had witnessed enough not just for one day, but for one lifetime.
But as Oliver managed to break free of my hold enough to shoot a hand up to my throat, it was clear that he saw this as a fight to the death, not just fight till surrender. And so it appeared that I had no choice but to play his game.
I moved upward abruptly, managing to jerk away from his grip. He shot to his feet after me. I landed a kick against his chest, forcing him backward toward the edge of the building. I surged forward, taking advantage of his unsteadiness, and managed to throw another kick, forcing him a few feet further backward still, until he managed to ground himself. He lunged and landed a punch on my left cheek, so hard that I felt my skin split. At least it hadn’t landed on my nose. A punch that powerful to my nose would’ve debilitated me for several seconds.
He hurled himself at me, aiming for my throat again. As I fought him off, I deliberately moved him closer toward the roof’s perimeter.
I wanted to make this quick now. I had other matters to attend to. I wanted to see what was going on with the others, and I also wondered where my father was now: what Ben had done, or was still doing, to him.
Oliver sensed what my game plan was. He attempted to move forward, keep us away from the edge, but I kept inching us nearer. This was, of course, also risky for me. If he got the advantage over me, I could be the one plunging down the side of the building, falling God knew how many feet and splattering on the pavement.
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