Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 108517 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 543(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108517 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 543(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
He was wearing the headphones like the rest of them.
Another wave of Arkan’s soldiers ran up the hill toward Alessandro. Magic sparked among them. Some of them sprouted blades. They were Arkan’s best combat mages. He’d kept them in reserve for just this moment. Alessandro tore through them like they were paper dolls.
Franco was on a collision course, heading directly for him. They were like two knights sighting each other across a medieval battlefield. Nothing was going to keep them apart. Arkan was watching it like it was a movie.
There was no place to draw another circle. The wall was strewn with rubble. That was okay. I didn’t need one.
Twenty-five yards separated Franco and Alessandro.
I took my helmet off and dropped it by my feet.
Twenty.
I sent my magic spiraling forward. Its tendrils found the impenetrable wall of Franco’s mind.
Fifteen.
My magic wrapped around the old man’s consciousness, locking me onto my target.
Ten.
Let me show you how much I love your grandson.
The black wings tore out of my back, and I screeched.
Not just the harpy. Me. The harpy and siren combined into one. I didn’t hesitate, I didn’t hold back. I gave him everything.
My magic bored into Franco’s mind like a laser.
The granite crag that was an antistasi’s mind resisted.
I kept screaming, the torrent of sound geysering out of me.
The granite quaked.
Soft fuzzy blackness crept on the edge of my vision.
You have all of me forever.
I fed the last drop of my power into my scream.
The stone mountain of Franco’s mind cracked.
He fell to his knees, his eyes blank.
I was still screaming. His mind had vanished, but I couldn’t stop.
I had to stop. I had to . . .
“I love you,” Alessandro’s voice said from inside my memories.
I grabbed onto the sound of those words and fell silent.
It was so quiet. The people had stopped fighting and running. They stared at me and some of them stared at Franco, kneeling in the grass with a blank look on his face.
In that silence, Alessandro and Arkan clashed, too fast to follow. They cut and carved at each other, striking, kicking, stabbing. The fight stopped. Everyone watched the two of them twist and spin. This was the point of the whole thing. This was exactly how it was supposed to end.
I walked off the wall, through the gap, and down the hill. Nobody tried to stop me. They parted before me like the proverbial sea.
Arkan was lightning fast despite his age, and he had decades of experience, but Alessandro was faster, stronger, and younger. Skill clashed with fury. Blood flew and I couldn’t tell whose.
Arkan opened a gash on Alessandro’s arm. Alessandro slipped around the blade, fluid, unbothered by the cut, and smashed his heel into Arkan’s kneecap. Arkan’s leg folded. Passive field or no, the raw force of that kick delivered enough impact. Like a suit of chain mail, Arkan’s magic didn’t permit a blade or a bullet to penetrate his skin, but it couldn’t completely cushion him from a powerful blow.
Arkan slashed, protecting his injured leg, and Alessandro drove his elbow into the older man’s face. The blow snapped Arkan’s head back. Alessandro struck out, trying to trip him, but Arkan twisted at the last moment, and sliced at Alessandro’s face.
A thin line of red split the skin below Alessandro’s left eye. He grinned as if Arkan had given him a gift.
The resolve in Arkan’s eyes broke. In that moment he must have realized that he wasn’t good enough. He wasn’t going to win this fight.
His mind lit up.
Magic crackled around Arkan. I didn’t see it but in my mind’s eye it was a black wave, dark and empty. It crashed against Alessandro and tore into me.
It was like someone had ripped me free of reality. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t do anything except watch Arkan’s mouth twist into a grim smile in slow motion. In front of me Alessandro stood frozen, his arm raised, his hand balled into a fist.
Arkan smiled wider.
Black glyphs appeared on Alessandro’s skin, spinning over his arms and neck, and burst with brilliant light.
The magic gripping me tore.
It was a one-shot arcane circle drawn onto human flesh. Arkan’s magic grasped all large objects within his immediate vicinity and froze them exactly as it found them. It was exceptionally powerful but very fragile. The circle I had drawn on Alessandro’s flesh was designed to take that initial blast of magic and use it as a fuel to spin and slide across his form. That movement shattered Arkan’s hold. His magic crumbled.
For a delicious second, Arkan’s eyes widened. Fear slapped his face.
Alessandro pulled the null blade out of its sheath, activating it, and stabbed Arkan in the stomach.
The assassin stumbled back. His mouth gaped, in disbelief or pain, I wasn’t sure.
Smirnov stepped out of the crowd. Arkan’s gaze snagged on him. Smirnov twisted and became Konstantin again.