Page 71 of Never Run from an Immortal

Their bullets are full of a potent tranquiliser, he warned everyone. He fired into the smoke as he pressed on, his attention solely fixed on whatever hybrids were before him. When he’d emptied his weapon, he tossed it aside, leaning into his abilities and the strength of them when he focused solely on one task.

Three hybrids slipped past him, but the fourth, a Hoof, he met with his fist. He still couldn’t get a grip on their minds, but he was getting reacquainted with the feel of them, the unnatural tinge that coated the air around their bodies. With his hands braced on the thing’s shoulders, he lunged for its throat, tearing through flesh and letting it fall limp at his feet.

The rest were a blur after that. Aidan sank into the familiar feeling of fighting for his life: hands and teeth and fists and the force and speed of his body to guide him. He’d never been a graceful fighter, hadn’t been afforded the privilege of being taught technique like the lords before him. Everything Aidan had learnt, he’d taught himself through sheer determination to stay alive, and after that, he’d studied, observed, practiced, and honed his skill until he could hold his own amongst the best of them. The savagery with which he’d been raised had never truly left him and he fought with that savagery now, all too aware that no matter how many hybrids he tore through, how many the Vampires behind him killed, more were coming.

“Baelin, report,” Aidan barked into his earpiece as he snatched a knife from a Horn and sliced it across its throat, wiping at his bloodied mouth as he caught his breath.

“Baxter is on his way. Eight vehicles are following his. Time to get the fuck out of there, Aidan.”

Rae was almost at Nim’s location; with Reed’s help, they’d been releasing prisoners as they moved, but their injuries were slowing them down. “Not until we release all the prisoners,” he told his Ascendant. “Delay Baxter.”

“With what?”

“You’ll think of something.”

Aidan hadn’t expected the raid to go well, but they hadn’t anticipated such high numbers of hybrids. Many Vampires lay dead behind him, and more would die yet.Malik’s on his way with two of his units,he told Rae.Nim was barely alive; maybe even too frail to be moved.She’s weak, Farren.

I’m almost there.

He’d yet to find whatever it was that felt like a ward—whoever it was—but with time running out, Aidan divided the remaining Vampires into two groups, one to clear a path out of the facility and one to assist with the survivors. He joined the group heading for the survivors, Rae’s regret washing over him as she found Nim.

Everyone had their instructions; those that didn’t have an earpiece, Aidan gave orders directly in their thoughts, his own feeling slow, sluggish.

“One block, I’ve stalled them for a few more minutes. Get out, now,” Baelin said in his ear.

Reed held Nim in his arms; Rae braced a prisoner on either side of her body. Aidan relieved her of one, ushering them all through corridors, the other Vampires following with more survivors. The female beside him lost her footing, and he lifted her into his arms, his Provident abilities far weaker than he should have allowed them to be as he ensured the route they took was clear. His Vampires had done their job as the cool night air reached them, hands reaching out to shuffle survivors intovehicles, tyres screeching as vans pulled away into the dark in different directions.

Evander already had the engine started on their transport, helping Reed into the van with Nim, and Rae following closely behind. Orion slid in behind them, and Aidan sat up front beside Evander, his door barely closed before Evander tore away from the facility.

A skull-splitting headache should have been enough to deter him, but Aidan forced himself to sweep the facility one final time, disappointment washing over him when his magic passed over the prisoners and Vampires that hadn’t made it. Those who survived had all fled, and he clung to that as Baelin gave his report from the council and their teams.

Behind him, Rae’s hands were pressed to Nim’s chest, her whispered words frantic and her anguish leaking from her in waves.

Do it,he told her.

“You’ll be alright,” Reed whispered to Nim.

Aidan wished he could tell the Fae he was right. He ground his teeth together as Rae’s hand clamped down on his shoulder, a jolt of pain shooting through his body as she pulled from him to try and save her friend.

But he knew it was too late.

Rae’s murmuring grew louder, her voice breaking, sorrow pouring from her so thickly Aidan couldn’t breathe. A sob escaped her, and he knew if he turned around he’d see tears streaming down her face, but he didn’t want to break the connection between them; whatever she needed to take from him, he would give it.

Aidan’s second regret of the night, and undoubtedly his greatest, was that he hadn’t killed Nim himself the moment he’d stepped inside the facility.

Chapter thirty-five

Nothing was working. Rae murmured every spell she could think of as she held Nim’s hand, but as night turned into day, and the sun began to set again, she knew it was all just borrowed time.

Her friend was dying.

Reed hadn’t left Nim’s side since they’d brought her back to the manor, and it was the way he kept her hydrated with a wet cloth, gently brushing it against her mouth after pressing fresh droplets of water into her parted lips, that had squeezed at Rae’s heart the most.

He’d removed Nim’s headscarf, carefully wetting her hair and untangling each of her curls with his fingers, his thumb brushing her cheek, talking to her quietly, patiently. And still, Rae wouldn’t stop murmuring her spells, the ache in her chest so sharp she could barely breathe.

Shaw had a doctor waiting when they’d returned from the facility, but he’d only told them all what they already knew: to make Nim comfortable for what little time she had left. Rae hadwanted to scream at him. To argue. To beg. Reed had. But it was no use. There was nothing to be done. And yet, Rae had tried anyway. Some wounds couldn’t be healed, and sickness had taken root in Nim’s body days ago from whatever she’d been injected with at the facility.

Rae thought of the night of her twenty-first birthday, just a few days after Nim had walked into her studio for the first time. She’d gotten in a bar fight, thrown out into the street, and Nim had been outside, finishing up a call on her PAD. The Witch had wanted to heal her there and then, right out in the fucking open, and Rae had felt a surge of protectiveness for her immediately.

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