Dying Breath Page 17

Azrael? I beg.

  She is near, Azrael whispers, and with her words I feel the familiar breeze of her power blowing through me. But she cannot help you now.

  I squeeze my new talisman in my fist. The blood-stained gold ring and Azrael’s power blowing through me—

  They’re all I have left.

  Chapter 28

  Jesse

  Great black wings surround me, cocooning me in darkness. It’s a tight space to squeeze through. Pressure builds in my head, and I have the distinct impression my ears need to pop.

  When I’m certain my brains are oozing out of my ears, the dark opens like the expanding aperture on a camera, and I tumble out.

  Literally.

  My elbows scrape stiff carpet as I roll into the base of an armchair. Hard.

  I groan, rubbing my elbow as electricity runs along the bone. Gee-zus. Freaking funny bone. Why in the world did someone name it the funny bone? There’s nothing funny about it.

  Before I can even pull myself from my knees to standing, minds press in on me again. It’s stronger than before. Is that because I used the teleportation thingy?

  The more I use the power, the more it will overtake me? That’s great.

  Now the dull roar of a cafeteria, a chorus of voices echoes in an enclosed space. Some dialogues are louder. Others barely a whisper. If I focus on one—

  Oh god, Sam. What did I do? What did I do? I should have made you get in that ambulance. I should have made you get as far away from this place as—

  I pull back, tears spilling over my cheeks. I blink rapidly but that doesn’t seem to clear my eyes any faster.

  Maisie.

  I leap into her mind at once. Instantly, my throat is so sore I can barely swallow. Sweat pools in the small of my back as my damp shirt clings to me. My skin is covered in grit. I’m staring at the black boots that will kick my skull in at any moment.

  Her fear rolls over me. She’s crushed and in shock, and I feel all those feelings like they’re my own.

  How did Caldwell do it? How did he read minds without losing himself in the emotion? Or was he such a bastard no amount of emotion could chip at his cold heart?

  You are stronger, Gabriel says. He’s standing over me. He reaches out and pulls me up.

  Again, I’m struck by how solid he is despite the nearness of Maisie and Georgia.

  He could not go as deep as you can now.

  I groan. “Lucky me.”

  A footstep falls, and still holding onto the overturned armchair, I turn to find a gun barrel taking aim at my head. The trigger is pulled and a bullet explodes from its black eye.

  This is it.

  I’m going to die.

  I’ll never survive a gunshot wound straight to the head.

  Only the bullet doesn’t blow out my brains. It pings right off me.

  The bullet bounces off me and sails through the living room. It blows through a slab of drywall.

  The shooter’s jaw falls open. The scar running from the corner of his eye to the top of his cheek dimples as he does.

  He pulls the trigger again and again, and sends those bullets zinging around the room after the first.

  I lift my hands and gaze at the back of my knuckles in amazement. Then I turn my hands over, looking at the skin as if I don’t know what it is. Bulletproof skin? No way!

  Faint purple shimmers along my skin. My shield is up. It’s so close to my body that I can barely see it. I erected it without even knowing it.

  Ah, not bulletproof. Just permanently shielded.

  The shooter raises his gun again, but I ignite him.

  With barely a whisper of an idea, his body explodes in flames. Immolated on the spot.

  The flames lick the ceiling, blackening the white popcorn surface. I screech.

  I’m about to burn someone’s house down. I’ve burned my own house down, and that was super depressing. Having someone else burn my house down would be even worse.

  Water, I think. I need water.

  I turn around the room once, trying to get an idea of where I might find a bucket or hose, but I freeze. Something rattles. A pressure is filling the room and I can feel it in my stomach, low, near the top of my thighs.

  Are the walls groaning?

  Water explodes out of the kitchen spigot. It sprays across the counters and floor like a fountain.

  The walls vibrate as more pipes strain against the mounting pressure.

  I pull at my face. “Oh my god, that’s not what I meant!”

  Cindy. The water thing was Cindy’s power. I saw her explode a toilet once.

  I glance around the room that is now not only burning, but incurring flood damage too.

  At least the burning man has stopped screaming. Thanks to the growing puddle he’s lying face down in.

  And I’m not the only one who’s tried to destroy this house today. All the furniture is overturned, some of it broken. The bedroom door is only half on its hinges.

  I hope the owners have good insurance. But flood damage isn’t covered in most policies. Maybe it would be best if the earth opened and swallowed it whole?

  The earth starts to shake.

  “Oh god, what now?”

  Gabriel arches a brow. “You control the earth. The water. Fire and air.”

  The earth?

  Dammit. Liza. In addition to knocking someone unconscious with the snap of her fingers, the partis could make the world shake because she’d killed her boyfriend Jake for that power. And who tore Liza apart for that power? Caldwell, of course.

  “Stop!” I whine. I grab onto the overturned armchair. “I don’t want the earth to shake.”

  But the pictures on the walls keep rattling. The silverware in the drawers keep jumping. The glasses in the cupboards clink together.

  Jesse!

  My name catches my attention despite the undercurrent of a dozen internal monologues.

  The helicopter!

  I focus on the voice and the world shifts.

  Maisie. I’m in Maisie’s head again, looking out through Maisie’s eyes at the giant black helicopter barreling overhead toward the abandoned military base in the distance. Only the place isn’t abandoned. Our friends are there. Ally, Gloria, and Gideon—and for some reason, Gideon’s face is a little brighter, a little shinier in Maisie’s mind. It has a gleam to it that the other faces don’t.

  Save them!

  What about you? I ask.

  Just go!

  It surprises me that she can hear my thoughts and respond so naturally. Is that Caldwell’s doing? Did she talk to him like that? Sadness blooms in my chest. So many questions I have for my sister and no time to ask them.

  There may never be time.

  I can’t leave him. Maisie must know she’s not safe with Georgia.

  What if I jump out and grab Maisie now? Can I jump her away from danger? My first jump was sloppy. I can’t imagine I’ve become magically better in the last few minutes.

  And if I appear, I will only draw attention to myself. What if I get Maisie killed? Caldwell had tried to jump Georgia out of the military base for years after he first got his power, but he couldn’t.

  If I try to jump Maisie and fail, I’ll be endangering her.

  Come back for me, Maisie pleads. Just go! Go to Ally!

  Ally.

  The kid knows how to get my attention.

  A knee-jerk fear consumes me. Some part of me casts itself across the desert, looking for her, wanting to know that she’s safe.

  Just like that, I’m gone.

  The living room slips away and I’m in the tight void again. The pressure squeezes my body, making it impossible to draw a breath. My lungs won’t expand.

  Gabriel, I can’t breathe!

  The aperture opens and I fall into the light again. My hands and knees hit scalding hot sand. Pain jars my palms, shooting up into my shoulders on impact.

  “Ahh, crispy sticks. Shit.” I roll over onto my back. “How do you land this thing?”

  “Ho
w do you land yourself?” Gabriel asks. He stretches his wings wide as he touches down, the picture of grace. Freaking show off.

  “You know what I mean! How do I keep from crash landing every time?”

  “You must exit with intent.”

  I groan and roll up to sitting position. I shake the sand off my hands. “I have intent. I intend not to fall on my flippin’ face. Gee-zus.”

  Intent, he whispers again.

  The image of Caldwell flares to life in my mind. I see him stepping forward and disappearing. He takes a step backward and disappears. A dozen instances of Caldwell attacking or retreating, or even pulling me into his embrace and taking me with him. There’s one thing every instance includes: a step.

  I brush off my knees and take a breath. I close my eyes and picture Ally in my mind. Ally reaching out for me. Ally leaning forward with a grin on her face, puckering her lips to kiss me.

  With my eyes closed, I step forward.

  The compression seizes me, squishing my body. My head feels like it’s in a vice.

  The longer I’m squished, the more my panic rises.

  Do not fold. Hold firm, Gabriel warns me.

  My insides are folding. I’m caving under the pressure of this place. I push back against the pressure and find enough room to breathe.

  With intent, he reminds me as the world begins to open. The space blooms in my chest, somewhere in my heart space.

  At the last moment, I step forward. The world tilts but I’m not tossed off the merry-go-round this time. My knees absorb the shock and I right myself.

  Nikki stands from her chair, raising her gun.

  My violet shield is in place, so I’m not worried about her blowing my brains out. Ally is stretched out on a cot beside the chair. A flat pillow rests under her head. Winston is sleeping in the crook of her knees. As soon as he sees me his cinnamon bun tail wags.

  “Hey puddin’ cup,” I coo.

  His tail wags harder and his little ears roll back with excitement.

  Nikki’s hard face softens. Her mouth falls open in surprise and her eyes round. “Shit, it’s you. I thought you were Caldwell.”

  “She’s dead?” I barely glance at Nikki. My heart is hammering is my chest.

  “She’s sleeping. She asked for you earlier.” She removes her finger from the trigger.

  I flip the pages of her mind, trying to understand her fear. “I’m not insane.”

  She doesn’t lower the gun. “But you killed him. With all that power, you’re a bomb.”

  We don’t have time for this macho bullshit. A war helicopter with rockets and all kinds of other fun crap is coming here to murder everyone I care about. My anger spikes.

  I shove myself into Nikki’s mind.

  I show her the helicopter and the men on their way.

  She sucks in a sharp breath.

  “Get over yourself,” I warn her. “We don’t have time for your ego.”

  She blinks back tears. I didn’t make her sad. But I’ve had Caldwell push into my thoughts that way before. It’s not much different than a fierce cold wind.

  “How much time do we have?” she asks. The gun finally dips.

  “Minutes. Where are the others?”

  “Gloria’s up and moving. She started drawing as soon as she opened her eyes. Her priorities are strange.”

  “That’s more than you’re doing. You’re in here gawking.” I don’t know why I feel the need to defend Gloria. She’s as badass as they come and can handle her own fights just fine. But there’s always been something about Nikki that makes me murderous.

  Oh, right. Could it be that I saw her holding Ally’s hand? Fawning over her? Brushing her hair out of her face? The fact that she wants me dead and gone and Ally all to herself?

  I don’t know why that would bother me.

  “What about Gideon?” I ask.

  She relaxes at last. Is it comforting to see my normal level of bitchiness? Oh, I’m happy to provide that anytime.

  “He’s with Gloria.”

  Ally stirs and we both turn, looking at her expectantly. I go to the side of the cot and kneel beside her. I let my guard fall and the shield flickers to nothing. I don’t care that Nikki is behind me with a gun. She could put it to my head and blow my brains out this instant.

  I don’t care because I want to touch Ally. I want to feel her breath and know she’s okay. I run a hand along the side of her face. I wouldn’t be able to feel her if the shield was between us, and this is much better.

  Her cheek is soft and a little too warm under my palm. I run my fingers along her jaw before tucking a stray hair behind her ear.

  Her eyes flutter open and she sees me. As soon as her eyes open Winston takes this as his cue to lay on the love. He licks her face. I like to think he’s saying hey, wake up! Look who’s here! But I can’t hear any pug thoughts to confirm this.

  She tries to protect her mouth from the assault, and as she does, her eyes finally fall on me.

  Her pupils constrict against the overhead light and recognition dawns on her face.

  “Jess!” She’s up and launching herself at me before I can react. I open my arms to catch her and she’s all mine. Poor Winston is knocked aside without so much as a squeeze. I scratch his ears as he bounces around on the cot behind Ally.

  “Hey, baby.” I kiss her cheeks and breathe in the scent of her hair. The smell of shampoo is gone. It’s replaced with gunpowder and smoke. My heart beats faster.

  So close. How many times have I been this close to losing her?

  Too damn many.

  I hold her against me.

  “You’re okay,” she says. “You’re okay.”

  I snort. “That’s debatable.”

  “Maisie?”

  “Alive.”

  “Gloria and Gideon?”

  “Alive, alive.”

  “Caldwell?”

  And of course, my girl wants all the information and details straight away. Ally, my doer. My super planner. My action girl. But we don’t have time for that. I might have bought some time by jumping ahead to the base, but that helicopter isn’t going to stay in the air forever.

  When I don’t tell her I killed Caldwell, doubt flashes across her face.

  The door opens and Gloria leans against the frame. Her hand remains on the handle. Her short hair is flat on one side and her eyes are red with exhaustion. Part of her face is swollen and a sizable bruise has bloomed on one side.

  Gideon stands at her back. He lost his shirt, somewhere, and his stomach has a jagged line of stitches.

  Rachel stabbed him. He’d risked his own life trying to bring her back to us.

  I wonder what’s hurting more: his stab wound or his feels?

  He sees me staring and barely lifts one corner of his mouth. “It seems I’ll live to see another day. Unfortunately.”

  I match his weak smile with my own. “You’re in luck. There’s a good chance you’ll die before the sun goes down.”

  He brightens. “Really? Did you bring trouble back with you?”

  “They’re here.” Gloria breaks into our banter with business. No hello. No when did you get here? Did she see me coming? Did she draw me in that notebook of hers?

  “My team is twelve minutes away.” Nikki adjusts her gun, probably thrilled by the idea she’ll get to use it again so soon, the adrenaline junky.

  Gloria doesn’t even acknowledge her. Her eyes are fixed on mine. “Can you take us?”

  I know what she means. Can I jump them? Can I slip each of them out of the military base before another battle ensues and more blood is shed in this god-awful place?

  That’s an excellent question.

  Caldwell couldn’t do it, but Gabriel keeps insisting I’m stronger.

  But I’m no fool. Opening myself up to the power, using it at full capacity, that’s where the real risk lies.

  I turn to Ally again, and see the horror building in her face.

  “You killed him,” she whispers. Her voice is
soft, and I wouldn’t have heard it if she wasn’t in my arms.

  She searches my face, her lips pursed with unasked questions. I can practically see the cogs turning in her head as she puts all these pieces together, as she tries to figure out what this means for me.

  For us.

  I smile at her, hoping I don’t look as scared as I feel. “Let’s find out.”

  Chapter 29

  Maisie

  As they focus on their attack against Jesse and the base, I’m largely forgotten. So I cling to Sam. I apologize a thousand times. But no matter how many times I tell him I’m sorry, no matter how many times I wish he’d gotten into that ambulance with his dad and never looked back, this sick pit in my belly won’t go away.

  There’s only part of his nose, but I try anyway. I blow into the caved nostrils several times, but that dormant stone in my belly won’t spark.

  I’m crying so hard it feels like a belt is around my chest, tightening. I can’t draw a full breath. And I can’t see because tears blur my world. But I see his sneaker and some black words scrawled on the bottom of the sole.

  I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand and bend down to read what’s scribbled there.

  Happy birthday Sammy Boy—The fastest guard in the west.

  There’s a handful of signatures in different marker colors, crowding in on the inscription, one even looping up around onto the side of the sneaker.

  What had he said?

  I’m not going to die here. I’ll be playing ball at ASU in the fall.

  The belt tightens again and I can’t stop making these horrible sounds.

  Someone grabs me under the arms and hauls me up. I dig my heels into the sand, screaming. “Leave me alone! Leave me with him.”

  A hand connects with my cheekbone and the world spins. I hang upside down in someone’s grip. Whoever is holding me up isn’t the same person who’s slapped me.

  I blink until the tears clear my eyes and I see Mom. She’s standing in front of me, her hand hanging in the air. I search our connection, trying to get a read on her emotions.

  Nothing.

  I try harder and…nothing.

  I can’t feel her.

  “Where is she?” Mom’s wide blue eyes shake in their sockets. She looks more like an animal than a person now. Wild. Unreasonable. As if her heaving chest and trembling body weren’t enough to clue me in. Her hand twitches and I brace myself for another strike.