Page 162 of Elven Crown

His dubious frown deepened, but he looked more concerned by her brief escape from reality and less suspicious, which was for the best. Especially when she got the feeling now that he’d spent more time than necessary trying to recapture her attention.

“Your opinion?” he asked, failing to hide a quick glance at the rest of the team before prompting her further. “Diego, Titus, and Burke are definitely still here. If this is a trap like you said, and I agree with you, I say we still move in anyway. But the call is yours.”

She nodded. “As long as we keep our eyes open for more casting-circle minefields, yeah. I’d say that gives us a small advantage of extra preparation, at least.”

“Let’s just chase these amateurs down and take them all out for good,” Rowan blurted, swinging his rifle in one hand again toward where that awful, trembling bellow had originated.

Rebecca’s jaw dropped as she faced him.

Was that seriously his only solution foreverything?

She didn’t get the chance to tell him off for such a profoundly reckless suggestion.

“Listen, Blackmoon,” Whit began. “I get that you’re still the new guy and everything, but this is a rescue mission. Not search and destroy.”

Rowan’s hazel gaze settled on the warlock’s face before he grinned. “The two aren’t mutually exclusive, pal.”

“When we still don’t know exactly who or what we’re up against?” Shell asked as she gestured toward the rest of the park with a toss of her hand. “Yeah, I’d say they’re two totally different things.”

“We can’t just barge in there completely blind,” Jay added, adjusting his two-handed grip on his weapon before nodding up ahead. “If we don’t know what to expect, we’re risking their lives for nothing. Not to mention our own. And if we don’t get them out of there, Diego, Titus, and Burke aren’t exactly getting any second chances. This isn’t rescue tryouts.”

Rowan chuckled, the deviously amused glimmer returning to his eyes. “Well, it’s certainly better than standing around and talking about all the things that could go wrong. What we shouldbe doing is acting before these pea brains have any more time to figure us out.”

“You are in no position to decide what this team needs or does,” Maxwell growled.

Rowan didn’t hide his next eye roll. “But we could just—”

“No. It’s not your call, elf. And the chances of you having anything of value to add to this discussion are zero.”

Rowan’s smile disappeared now, and Rebecca forced down a laugh.

At least they were using their words with each other instead of their fists.

“We don’t have time for a more advanced strategy,” she cut in. “Have these attackers pulled out more stops than we expected? Sure, but we handled it, and we’re here now. So are our operatives. And the only other thing I know for certain is that if we don’t get them out of here tonight, their chances drop drastically. I’m not willing to risk that for them. Bottom line.”

As she spoke, Rowan let out a heavy, aggravated sigh and rolled his eyes again. When she finished and settled her gaze on Maxwell, however, the shifter’s face lit up—for as much as it ever did—with what looked a lot more like pride and admiration and agreement than she ever expected to see on him.

Apparently, she’d said the right thing.

“So we keep moving,” Maxwell said with another careful glance around the old Western main street, half-destroyed after their recent battle. “Anyone have a problem with that?”

The others looked just as determined to get this done, which was answer enough.

Rowan opened his mouth and sucked in a sharp breath to respond.

“Good,” Maxwell said and turned away from the elf as if he didn’t exist. “Then we keep moving.”

He narrowed his eyes and sniffed the air again to get them back on the trail. Something toppled and bounced across one of the second-story balconies behind them, followed by a much closer heavy crash.

The team spun toward the sound, their magitek weapons powering up again in the darkness, the varying colors of magical light casting instant shadows across the poorly laid cobblestones and against shattered, crooked doorways.

Pounding footsteps and a sharp hiss rose from Rebecca’s right a second before she caught a flash of movement in the darkness—the heel of a thick black boot disappearing around the corner of the closest building.

“Orwe could just follow one of the survivors,” Whit whispered. “Lead us right to them.”

Maxwell signaled to move after the enemy target before gripping his own weapon tightly in both hands.

Before anyone could head after that newest target, however, the air blistered again with the same harrowing, bellowing roar that had shaken what remained of the abandoned park to its foundations twice already.

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