Page 80 of Brother's Keeper

Donovan had a firm hold of his left wrist as though willing his body parts to stay attached. “Fitch, we’re not really going through with this, are we?” he whispered.

“Hold your positions,” Felix said through my earpiece.

I was ready to tell him off or pluck the headset out and crush it underfoot when Holland’s form flashed up from a dark spot on the ground. She held her badge in one hand and her pistol in the other.

“You’re under arrest by order of the Capitol,” she announced as Tobin and Vesper emerged from a line of shadow at the base of the back wall. “Surrender now, or we will use force.”

Vesper had her gun drawn, as well, and Tobin’s hands were open, his fingers splayed with what I imagined was a time-stop spell ready to be deployed. Meanwhile, Donovan bounced on the balls of his feet, visibly giddy.

“Well, ain’t this some shit,” Jax growled.

He didn’t budge, and neither did Jette and York. It made me wonder if they would play along—outnumbered as they were. But that would be too easy.

Air whooshed through the building as an arid breeze that reminded me of flyboy Ezrah Everett. Did Jax have more backup? I searched the overhead catwalk and the ceiling beyond it but found nothing as the howl of wind shifted to something with slightly more bass. Rushing,instead. Water.

York hadn’t moved the air, just robbed the moisture from it, leaving the inside of the warehouse as dry as a desert as a pool of water began to swell between his feet and lap against Ripley’s collapsed body.

The puddle spread, and I threw out a mental hook to grab Ripley’s arm and drag him away from the rising tide. Then, it stopped. York stood flanked by a white-crested wave like Aquaman himself, completely still. A few feet away from him, Jette held the machete poised for attack.

Vesper rushed toward them. Anti-magic collars swung like bangle bracelets from her wrist.

Jax’s snarl called my attention. No sooner had I removed Ripley from York’s range than did the shapeshifter sink into panther form. I grabbed the shoulder of Donovan’s shirt and hauled him back, then turned my other hand toward the big cat as he whirled away from me.

Holland’s gun rattled off a shot. It missed Jax’s long, low body as he bounded ahead, angling for Tobin. Time manipulation seemed to be a concentration game and seeing the hairy, black beast barreling toward him must have shattered Tobin’s focused thoughts. Holland tracked the shapeshifter’s approach with her pistol but didn’t shoot again. Good thing because the angle of her gun would have sent a stray bullet straight toward Donovan and me.

In the pause, Vesper had managed to get collars on York and Jette, rendering York’s indoor maelstrom a rapidly dispersing puddle. The two were free to move before Jax tackled Tobin to the ground.

Holland rounded on the panther taking furious swipes at the fallen investigator. Shrieks of pain cut through the air. A wave of Holland’s hand brought vines of shadow up from the floor. They latched onto Jax’s animal form, melding with his thick, black fur. He rose into the air, lifted then flung by the misty streams of darkness. He hit the ground and skidded several feet from Tobin, who was leaking blood between agonized cries.

I spun around to where Donovan stood as frozen as if Tobin had time-locked him, too.

“Get out of here!” I shouted at him. “Take Rip and go!”

His wide eyes met mine, and he nodded. He broke into a sprint, splashing through the water covered floor as he raced toward Ripley.

On the other side of the room, Holland knelt over Tobin. Her face was as white as her hair as she tugged off her sweater and pressed the balled fabric against the other investigator’s shredded chest.

Donovan reached Ripley and crouched beside him as though afraid touching him would make a dire situation worse. My brother’s hands shook as he reached for the collar buckled around Ripley’s throat, trying to free him from the crude torture device.

“No time for that!” I barked at him, then glanced back to ensure Jax was still sprawled and motionless on the ground behind me.

Grimacing, Donovan adjusted to hook his arms under Ripley’s. He hauled the scrawny teen up and began an awkward scuttle toward the door we’d enteredthrough.

With them on their way to safety, I focused on the other side of the room where York and Jette had turned on Vesper. The investigator backed rapidly, cocking the gun she’d retrieved from its holster and firing a round into York that hit center mass. The tall man doubled over, then hit his knees, groaning.

Jette hadn’t stopped, crowding into Vesper and throwing punches that sent the investigator’s gun skittering across the ground. I extended my fingers toward the firearm and called it through the air to my waiting hand.

It was too risky to shoot while the women were entangled, so I set the safety then tucked the pistol in the waistband of my jeans. Jette and Vesper went down and rolled across the wet ground, trading blows. Jette’s superhuman punches were thankfully nerfed by the antimagic collar or she would have caved in Vesper’s face by now.

I watched them tousle, waiting for a moment I was certain they weren’t hanging onto each other before I wrapped telekinetic tethers around Jette’s arms and legs. A swinging punch upward threw her into the air. She struck the corrugated metal ceiling with an echoing clang.

From there, all that was left to do was let her fall, flailing, screaming. I gave her an extra push through the last few feet, ensuring the three-story drop would finish her off. She landed facedown next to Vesper, whose battered features managed to show shock as she scrambled aside.

York, meanwhile, sat hunched, clutching his bulletwound. I remembered the cruel device strapped to Ripley’s throat and thought it poetic justice as I cast a mental thread toward York’s jaw. It caught his chin, and I reveled in the feeling of a stretch-then-snap as I yanked up and back. His head lolled loose, testing the elasticity of his skin as his skull tipped onto his shoulder.

Quiet fell along with an eerie calm as I surveyed the scene. Holland was working on Tobin, and Vesper had scuttled that way, leaving me standing a few yards away with my fingers tingling and chest heaving.

“Somebody talk to me!” Felix’s frantic voice crackled through my earpiece. “What’s going on?”

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