Page 12 of Rage of the Fallen

As I was sliding into the front seat, Rage and Maci walked onto the sidewalk. To anyone else, they looked like an ordinary couple. Rage tipped his finger to me as if saluting, and Maci smirked.

They didn’t attack, and that scared me most of all.

CHAPTER SIX

Justice pulled away from the curb, and we sped off.

My heart pounded as I glanced at him. “I bet they know where we’re headed.” I rubbed my forehead. “Why do you think they’re not following us? This doesn’t make sense.”

He nodded. “Unfortunately, I think you’re right.”

Brody caught my eye in the rearview mirror, his expression determined. “We can’t let their intimidation tactics work. As long as we stick together and stay true to our mission, we’ve already won half the battle. They might think they have the upper hand, but our strength lies in our unity and resolve.”

“It’s going to take us half a day to get to the fairy pools on the Isle of Skye. That will give Maci, Rage, and the other demons time to either move the phoenix or set a trap for us,” Justice grumbled.

“Too bad we can’t use the hourglass,” Damon remarked as he folded his arms. “A time machine would have been nice.”

Zara and Lisa exchanged a loaded glance, their eyes flickering with unspoken concerns.

My stomach dropped. I’d seen enough of their silent witch communication to know when something was seriously wrong.The air around us seemed to thicken, charged with an energy I couldn’t place but definitely didn’t like.

“Maybe not,” Zara offered tightly. Two simple words, but the way she said them with that edge of fear in her voice made my skin crawl.

Lisa inhaled sharply, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. “There’s…a possibility we could conjure a spell,” she began, her words measured and cautious. “To activate the hourglass.”

She paused. “But the risks are severe. If the spell isn’t potent enough, it could backfire catastrophically. We might not all make it through. Some of us could be left behind, or worse, trapped in the folds of time itself.”

Her words hit me like a physical blow, sucking the air from my lungs. The car suddenly felt too small, too confining. I looked at the faces around me. Friends, family, people I’d die for. The thought of losing even one of them made my chest constrict painfully.

Memories of past losses flashed through my mind. Faces I’d never see again, voices forever silenced. I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. Losing someone again wasn’t an option. It couldn’t be.

Yet if there was even the slightest chance this would work, the risk would be worth it. Wouldn’t it? The fate of everything we knew hung in the balance. I swallowed hard, tasting the bitterness of fear and determination.

“Even if we manage to cast it correctly, there’s no guarantee it will work at all,” she added.

I turned, not sure how to answer that.

“Well, ain’t that peachy.” Damon’s voice dripped with sarcasm. He scrubbed his face, then locked gazes with Lisa. “So, our choices are to sit here twiddling our thumbs or risk becoming time confetti. Great.”

He paused for a beat, then added with grim determination, “You know what? I say we do it. We’ve faced worse odds before. Hell, being trapped in time might even be a fun vacation from the usual crap we deal with.”

Damon smirked at me. “What do you say, Sawyer? Ready to add ‘time refugee’ to our resumes?”

It would take four to five hours to even get to the Isle of Skye, and that was if Justice sped through the countryside. Maci and her demons would get to the fairy pools long before we did. If there was even a chance…

The witches had laid out the possible catastrophes.

“I vote for time travel,” I replied, studying each of my team members.

Damon’s jaw clenched, his dark eyes fixed on some distant point outside the window, conflict etched across his features.

Lisa twisted a strand of hair nervously around her finger, her other hand clasped tightly with Zara’s.

Zara’s face was a mask of concentration, her free hand tracing invisible sigils on her knee as if already preparing for the spell.

Brody sat unnaturally still, his usual optimism replaced by a solemn determination.

“Anyone object?” I asked.

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