Page 121 of Golden Eagle

There was shouting, and another rush of flame.

They ducked.

“Shit,” Lanny said; he sounded panicked. “It’s a mage. This redheaded kid. Nik couldn’t even compel him.Come on.”

The fire receded again, and he took her to the very back corner of the alley, where a line of dented silver trash cans sat below a window. He scrambled up onto the cans, their lids denting beneath his boots; who knew how long they’d hold his weight. “Locked,” he said when he tested the window. Of course it was.

Trina glanced back over her shoulder, searching for the others. “We can’t leave them…” But everyone had scattered. She heard the scrape of shoes on pavement, and the meaty thump of bodies colliding.

The mage was illuminated by the banked fire he held in his palms. A lean boy with flame-red hair, dressed in white scrubs, his face a mask of fury. He locked gazes with her, and reached toward her with one of his hands, the fire in it rippling and swelling.

“Lanny!”

He forced the window open with the metallic sound of the lock breaking, and grabbed her hand. Hauled her up like she weighed no more than a kitten, and shoved her through into a dark, stale-smelling room.

She wrapped her arms around her head, still managing to keep a grip on her gun – the flashlight was gone, on the ground in the alley somewhere – and landed hard on her shoulder. The floor knocked the breath out of her, and she lay a moment, dazed, as Lanny followed her in.

He knelt down and took her shoulders in both strong hands, pulling her up. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she said, managing to inhale. “I dropped my light.”

“I can see. Hold onto me.”

She took a grip on the back of his jacket with one hand and followed blind, pulse pounding in her ears; throbbing in her throat so hard she thought she’d choke.

It was pitch black. The floors were hard – wood, she thought, based on her landing – but their footfalls echoed back off close walls and low ceilings. The mustiness smelled like mildew, like old paper, and cardboard boxes gone damp.

Lanny led her along at a steady pace so she wouldn’t trip, but she felt the tension in his back beneath her knuckles. He wanted to run. If she did trip, she didn’t put it past him to scoop her up and carry her out of here.

“Here’s a door,” he said, and she heard him open it. Followed him through it. He hung a right, and she felt a wall brush her shoulder. They were in a hallway. “This used to be an office building, I think,” he said, hushed. “It’s for sale, now.”

That explained the stuffiness of disuse.

It seemed to take hours, walking through the black maze of hallways, heart stopping every time Lanny paused to listen for something. She felt totally useless, and more frightened than she’d been in a long, long time.

Finally, a shaft of faint light appeared. They were in a lobby that faced the street, and there were gaps in the plywood panels that had been used to cover the windows.

Lanny went to one and peered out, after she’d let go of his jacket. She hadn’t wanted to, and he hadn’t asked her to, but it felt important to turn loose of the old, worn leather, and stand on her own power. She needed to prove that she could.

He stood a long moment, peering out at the street, before he said, “Okay, I think we’re good.” With a quick twist of his wrist, he broke the locks on the door, and opened it, ushering her forward with a gesture.

She went first, gun at the ready, skin prickling with wariness.

She heard an engine approaching, and tensed.

“The van,” Lanny said; he recognized the sound of the engine.

It turned the corner and braked to a hard stop at the curb. Much was behind the wheel, Will in the passenger seat.

“Get in and we’ll find the others,” Will said.

They didn’t need to be told twice.

~*~

When Gustav lit out onto the sidewalk and made a break for it, Nikita gave chase, Sasha falling in beside him.

“Hannah went up the fire escape,” Sasha said.

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