Page 30 of Capricorn Blessed

The light floods the room, making me blink. When my eyes have adjusted, I see a bunk room. Bunk beds are spaced out evenly around the room like a cabin at camp. Each bed has a trunk at the end, probably to store belongings.

We move through the room, finding it empty, before heading back to the hallway.

The sound of flesh hitting flesh reaches my ears.

“We should go!” I tell Dennis. “The others may need help.”

I take off at a run, desperate to reach my mates. A grunt from behind me has me looking over my shoulder. Dennis has both arms wrapped around his chest, supporting his injured ribs while trying to keep up. I slow my pace, feeling like an ass for forgetting so quickly he was injured.

I slow enough for him to catch me as we pass the T and head to the others. The sounds seem to be coming from a room on the right.

Turning into the doorway, I stop.

“Maybe I brought fists to a fistfight.” Dennis laughs.

Chapter 14

Rescue Mission

Several of the Council’s goons are attacking Beorn and Kenric, but the part that surprises me the most is no one has shifted. It looks like an old-school magic-free brawl.

Scanning the room, my eyes land on Izzy. She’s chained to the far wall with her hands stretched high enough she’s standing on tip-toe. I grimace and reach for the well of power inside me. Nothing responds. Not my fire, earth, or water... I lift my sword higher, gripping it with both hands before running toward the fray.

One man turns to face me. I bring the rapier down on his arm, leaving a slice to the bone. He doesn’t stop coming. Spinning and throwing a punch to his other arm. I dodge getting sprayed in the face with blood for my efforts.

Twisting, I move, hoping to place myself closer to Izzy. Her eyes are closed, and she’s not reacting to any of the noise.

The man lowers his head and roars like he’s a bull. Dropping his shoulder, he charges at me. I jump to the side at the last minute, bringing the hilt of the sword down on his head. He collapses into a pile.

I move farther into the room.

Beorn and Kenric are standing back to back, facing off against four more men. Apparently, they didn’t all come to the diner. Turning, I slide around the edge of the room, wanting to check on Izzy. I’m close enough to see her chest rise slightly and release a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

Movement to the left draws my attention. I turn and see someone running faster than I can track straight at me. I brace for impact, pointing my sword toward the attacker.

Dennis flies from where he was standing, tackling the attacker and taking them to the ground. A crack sounds as the attacker’s head bounces off the floor. They fall still.

“Thanks,” I breathe, paying more attention in case anyone else is hiding in the shadows.

“Ow!” he grunts. “Glad I could help.” He pushes himself off the would-be attacker. “Huh, guess the Council has girls working for them, too. Guess that’s why she went down so easily.”

I snort a laugh. Not seeing any new threats, I start moving back toward Izzy.

Kenric and Beorn are holding their own in the middle of the room. One of the goons they were fighting is on the ground, the other three stepping over him as they continue to circle and try to attack my men. The fight is sloppy, and I am grateful to my parents for making me learn hand-to-hand and other skills that don’t require my magic. Despite the prophecy predicting magic’s disappearance, it’s surprising how many supernaturals still heavily rely on their powers.

Reaching Izzy, I put my fingers on her neck, relieved to feel her pulse flutter beneath my fingers. I look up at her restraints, hunting the best way to free her. Shackles. Damn. I’m not going to be able to deal with these easily without hurting Izzy, but hurt is better than dead or tortured. Lifting her slightly, I tug her away from the wall. Her hands don’t slide out of the cuffs. I huff a sigh and look around, hoping the goons left the key sitting somewhere obvious.

“Need help?” Dennis asks.

“We need to get the shackles off her,” I say, “but I can’t find a key or get her hands to come out. Maybe if we break her thumbs, we can slide her hands through them. As long as she’s got her panther, she’d heal quick enough.”

“Do you have a bobby pin?” Dennis asks.

I side eye him, but pull one out of my hair. “Are you about to tell me you know how to pick a lock with this? Were you a criminal in your younger years?”

“Yes and no,” he answers, taking the pin from me and sticking it in the first lock. “Yes, I can pick the lock, no I wasn’t a criminal, just a bored kid who decided to learn a lot of things from the internet.”

“What else can you do?” I ask.

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