Page 323 of Seer Prophet

Following my lead, the Terian with the amber eyes and the dark red hair crouched behind the crates next to me. He peered past me for a few seconds, his gaze following the firefight with some interest before he looked back to grin at me again.

“Do not worry, my lovely, beautiful, sister Alyson. I would never kill Revi’. He’s my brother.” He inclined his head, pursing his mouth thoughtfully. “Anyway, Revi’s almost impossible to kill. Not like most people. Most people are very very easy to kill. Like butterflies. Or a person’s dreams.”

I grunted, trying to find the humor in that, too, and still failing.

Fighting anger, I tried to shove the fear from my mind, if only by focusing the direction of my thoughts elsewhere while I continued to hover over Revik.

“Where’s Feigran?” I asked Terian. My eyes scanned faces in the cages. “Is he here, Terry? Or was that another lie?”

Terian clicked softly, smiling as he shook his head.

“No?” I bit my lip to keep from punching him in the face. He had, after all, just saved my life. Even if he’d done it in a way that made me want to strangle him. “No to which part? Terry, if he’s not here, then where the hell is he?”

Terian motioned with his chin towards the other side of the warehouse.

It took me a second. Then I understood.

“In the house? That plantation house? With the pool party?” At Terian’s nod, I frowned, thinking. “Is that Feigran’s house, Terry?” Understanding made its way through my light, probably from Terian himself. “This boathouse is on Feigran’s land, isn’t it?”

Grinning, Terian tilted his head yet again.

That time, I could have smacked him for real.

But yeah, he just saved my life, so I didn’t.

Instead, I held out a hand, fighting impatience when he just looked at it.

“Give my your gun, Terry,” I said, my voice hard.

“My…gun?”He raised an eyebrow, his expression openly puzzled.

Seeing the bewilderment on his face, it hit me. He wasn’t fucking with me. Well, he was, but not in the way I imagined. He wasn’t reluctant to give me his gun.

He genuinely didn’t understand why I would need it.

After a few more seconds of thought, crouching there in that skin-tight dress, balancing on six-inch heels, I realized I didn’t really understand why I’d wanted Terry’s gun, either.

My husband was lying unconscious on the cement. If he died, our daughter died.

I died.

Menlim was down. Someone hit him from above, a sniper Revik must have positioned at a high vantage point to back us up from those crates. The construct likely couldn’t hurt me, not with Revik unconscious.

We had?at minimum?over two hundred seers and humans to move out of these cages.

And I was done with Dubai.

Like, reallydonewith it.

Even as I thought it, I glanced over my shoulder at the crumpled form of Dalejem, feeling a sharper pain in my heart. I didn’t know if he was still alive. I’d been almost afraid to check. He hadn’t moved since Revik threw him against that wall.

At the thought, I rose smoothly to my feet, igniting the higher regions of myaleimibefore I’d straightened to my full height. Immediately, the guns of several soldiers swiveled in my direction. From those same high structures, the arcing loop of their barrels happened in slow motion?almost comically slow after the fight with Revik from that space.

They made it less than halfway to their targets.

The cracking sound of exploding metal echoed through the warehouse space.

I ignited the material in all three plasma rifles simultaneously?but I heard them one by one as they exploded at incrementally different rates.

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