Page 69 of Revenant

The fireball crackles over his back a moment later, and his clothes ignite. I wiggle out of his iron grip, frantically smothering the flames with my hands. Then my movements slow when I realize that while his shirt is burned, his skin is unblemished.

Hicks stills as my fingers trail over his torso, the rough texture of his skin like braille. I trace the tiny teardrop shapes as my mind finally supplies an answer—scales.

He has fucking scales.

Hicks turns, and I gasp when the yellow color of his eyes deepens to a molten gold, the pupils constricting into slits. His fangs and claws are proudly on display, and he doesn’t move as he awaits my verdict.

I say the first thing that pops into my head. “You’re magnificent.”

His grin is immediate and more than a little bloodthirsty, and I feel like I’m truly seeing him for the first time. He gently nudges me aside before stalking toward Gordan with a single-minded focus that is intimidating as fuck when on the receiving end.

Gordan throws balls of fire one after another, backing up a step when nothing seems to slow Hicks down. Fear flashes across his face, then he snarls and holds out both hands, releasing a stream of liquid fire.

My breath catches when Hicks is engulfed…and walks through the flames like it’s nothing more than a nuisance, ashes and bits of clothing fluttering in the air behind him. When Gordan is within striking distance, Hicks doesn’t even hesitate to throw a punch, and I watch in awe as his fist lands with the force of a boulder.

Gordan stumbles back, his breath wheezing out of him. Hicks is a savage fighter, going after him again and again, and I can’t look away from the total annihilation. When Gordan lands a lucky blow, the bones of his hands snap. The poor sap howls and clutches his mangled fingers to his chest.

Hicks draws back his arm one last time, then clips Gordan on the jaw. His lights are out even before he hits the ground. I’m so distracted by the brutal assault that I don’t realize Crystal is creeping up on me until it’s too late.

“Rue!” Gunner barks my name.

I whirl, and the blow meant to cave in the back of my skull cracks me across the side of my head instead. Warm liquid gushes down my face, soaking into my shirt, and I wobble on my feet, like the commands to my body were abruptly severed.

That one moment of inattention cost me.

Crystal wraps her hand around my throat, stroking my skin in a way that has me shuddering. Her touch tingles like she is rubbing Icy Hot into my skin, then she leans in close and whispers into my ear, “Die, bitch.”

Maybe I’m immune to her ability, or maybe it’s because the connection from my brain to my body is offline at the moment. Instead of falling dead at her feet, I place my hand against her chest and push, hard.

I expect her to stumble back a step, and I’m shocked when her body remains stationary.

Her soul does not.

Her spirit launches out of her body and sails through the air. Crystal floats for a moment, her form only a wispy, pale shadow. Her face twists in confusion, then horror slowly darkens her expression. Her body sways without anyone at the helm before slowly crumbling at my feet.

I instinctively know I can put her soul back into her body, but my legs buckle before I can take a step. Just as I crash to the ground, strong arms catch me close, then cradle me tightly. I don’t feel any pain, but the numbness isn’t good. Even worse, I still can’t control my body yet.

“Call Hershamn,” one of the guards barks. “We need to take her to the infirmary.”

There is commotion around me, but I’m not really aware of it. A kaleidoscope of the guys’ concerned faces passes in front of me, but I can’t hear their words or feel their touches. The chill of the afterlife is already working to heal me, but I know from experience that it will take time to knit a cracked skull back together.

When I wake up on a bed, I realize that I’ve lost time. I’m in an unfamiliar infirmary with machines and monitors beeping in the background. A curtain surrounds me, blocking off my view of the rest of the room. The pain in my skull has been reduced to a dull throb, but the wound itself is mostly healed. All that remains is the residual effects, much like a hangover.

A whisper of voices catches my attention, and I realize the hushed conversation must have woken me. I tilt my head to hear better, then stiffen in alarm when I’m finally able to decipher what they’re saying.

“I don’t care what you have to do—lock them up if they leave you no choice. We finally have her where we want her. I won’t allow those kids to interfere with the final stages of my experiment. I’ve lost too much, sacrificed too much to lose it all now.” The cold-blooded snarl in Hershamn’s voice is chilling.“Don’t kill them. They are progressing beautifully, and we might need them later.”

“Yes, sir,” two guards reply in unison, and I imagine them clicking their heels together and saluting. The door clicks shut, and I hastily close my eyes, not a second too soon. The curtains around my bed are yanked open, and it takes all my concentration not to flinch. I have a lot of practice not reacting to danger.

My father is at least predictable in his hatred, while Hershamn is just insane.

How do I keep on attracting crazy people?

I’m so lost in my thoughts that I’m not aware of the doctor leaving until the door clicks shut behind him. My eyes snap open, and I lurch back when I see a ghost hovering near my side. Or I would’ve lurched back if I wasn’t lying flat on the bed. I end up flailing about like an idiot, if the amused expression on the ghost’s face is any indication.

Wait…not a ghost.

The form is a little too solid, a little too real.

---