Page 51 of Blaze

“Not ours,” Brute grunts, the loud gun firing rapidly.

I glance at the fleeing vehicle once more. It’s heading for the highway. I can’t make out who’s driving it, or even if they’re male or female.

“Stop fucking firing,” I shout back at the demon. “You’ll hit Blaze.”

Brute curses up a storm, but he must agree since the concussive shots go silent. “We need to take her out. Whatever she’s doing is slowing them down.”

Fuckity fuck, a bone went up the clock. Brute is right. But we can’t get low enough for him to survive the fall without both of us getting hit by whatever magic the woman is working.

I slam the autopilot and set the hawk to hover. “Take the controls,” I shout as I rip off the harness.

“You’re fucking crazy, brother,” Brute says, but he takes my place at the helm.

I make my way to the open side door of the hawk, gripping the handle on the roof hard as I survey the grounds.

“I’ll get you as low as I can,” he says, but I shake my head.

“Don’t bother.”

I let go of the handle and step into the open air.

Fucking fuckity fuck, a bone goes up the clock. The clock strikes twelve and souls rain down.

I gather the groaning souls that are never far from me, collecting the ones attached to the bones I’ve buried around the clubhouse. My vision goes white as my body changes and twists. White bones launch like missiles from the dirt, their souls screaming in my ears and drowning out the wind of my fall.

My plummet slows, and I’m pushed forward by the skeletal tornado that I’ve commanded to catch me. I don’t need to think about my commands; the souls of every bone connected to mine already know.

I surge towards the female Light Justicar, approaching her from behind.

She whirls when I’m ten yards out and, despite the distance, our gazes meet. Her eyes are milky and cloudy but wide with fear. It stinks and I should enjoy it, but it turns my stomach instead. She isn’t afraid of me. I don’t know how I can tell.

Flames and heat explode to her side.

Holy fucking shit. I watch, impressed, as Blaze grows larger and—devours—the male Justicar.

I feel the moment he dies, his soul being cleaved from his mortal body. Then, before I can be tempted to take his bones, I feel them become ash. Then even the ash is burned away.

Ripples of white light explode out of the woman, and I throw my hand up in a useless attempt to shield my face. Her body is lifted onto her toes, her cassock billowing around her, her blonde hair glowing with power.

“Shit, he was her anchor,” I say to no one. Her power is untethered and, from what she’s putting out, she could kill us all.

Fucking fuckity fuck.

Encasing myself in bone shards, I push forward against the pulsing light. I have to fight for every step. Every bit of my body screams to flee. But I refuse to let my brothers down. They saved me when I was at my lowest.

Stretching out a hand, I wrap my fingers around her wrist. Her chin slams to her chest, her eyes—now clear and crystal blue—find mine and lock on.

“Please,” she whispers. Somehow I can hear her perfectly, like she’s speaking into my head. “Please don’t let them take me back there. Kill me. Please.”

Her soul touches mine, and I see too much, too fast. I can’t make out any of it. What I know, though, is that this woman is terrified of the Light Justicars.

An overwhelming sense of protectiveness swarms me until even the souls I carry demand I help her. I can’t kill her, though.

Before I can finish the thought, a bone shard darts out and strikes her on the temple. Her magic cuts off as she’s knocked out.

I catch her, cradling her close as my bone carriers lower us to the ground. Looking at her still face, all I can ask myself is what the fuckity fuck have I done?

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