up to the sky as they howled.
The thaumaturge, farther away, picked himself up from the ground with a sneer. Though it was too dark to see any blood, Cinder could tell he was favoring the leg that had been shot.
Brushing the sweat from her eyes, Cinder focused on the soldier closest to her. She mentally reached out for the bioelectric waves that were rolling off him, frenzied and hungry, and clamped her thoughts around them.
One howl was cut off sharply from the rest.
A headache was already forming at her temples from the effort required to control him, but she sensed the change immediately. Still violent, still angry, but no longer a wild beast sent to rip apart anyone in his path.
You. She wasn’t sure if she said it out loud or merely thought it. You are mine now. Get these two men on board the ship.
His eyes flickered, loathing but restrained.
“Now.”
As he moved to lumber toward her, the rest of the howling ceased. Four faces peered at Cinder and the traitor. The thaumaturge snarled, but Cinder could barely see him. Bright spots were dancing in her vision. Her legs were beginning to shake from the effort of keeping herself standing while maintaining her control on the man.
He grabbed on to Wolf and Thorne by their wrists and began dragging them up the ramp—a puppet under her strings.
But she could already feel the strings fraying.
Hissing, she fell to one knee.
“Impressive.”
The thaumaturge’s voice was muffled in her head. Behind her, her pawn dropped Wolf and Thorne onto the cargo bay floor.
“I can see why my queen fears you. But taking control of one of my pets will hardly save you now.”
She was so close. Get the soldier out of the ship. Get herself inside.
She managed to bring him back to the edge, the very bottom of the ramp, before her hold on him snapped. She fell forward, clutching her temples, feeling as if a hundred needles were being jabbed into her brain. It hadn’t hurt like this to control anyone else, had never hurt at all.
The pain began to ease. She squinted. The thaumaturge was snarling at her, one arm clutching his stomach where the ramp had hit him.
The rest of the soldiers were just standing there, their eyes still glowing but their expressions passive, and it occurred to Cinder that the thaumaturge was too hurt to keep control of them all. That even his hold on them was tenuous.
But it didn’t matter. She had no more strength.
She sank back on her heels, letting her hands fall heavy at her sides. Her body swayed—she could feel unconsciousness calling to her, seeping into her brain.
A grin once again creased the thaumaturge’s lips, but this time it showed more relief than amusement.
“Troya,” he said, “go in and retrieve Mademoiselle Benoit. I will have to decide what is to be done with Alpha Kes—”
His eyes darted past Cinder at the same moment she heard a gunshot.
The thaumaturge stumbled back, clutching his chest.
Slipping onto her hip, Cinder glanced back to see Scarlet marching down the ramp, carrying a shotgun.
“Mademoiselle Benoit retrieved,” she said, planting her heel on the back of the dazed, blank-faced soldier and shoving him off the ramp. “And don’t worry, we’ll take Alpha Kesley off your hands.”
Sneering, the thaumaturge sank down to the ground. Blood began to dribble out between his fingers.
“Where did you get that?” Cinder wheezed.
“One of your storage crates,” Scarlet said. “Come on, let’s…”
A mix of emotions flickered through her eyes—writhing fury, startled confusion, emptiness.
She lowered the barrel of the gun.
Cinder cursed. “Iko, the ramp!” she said, crawling up onto the ramp and collapsing at Scarlet’s feet. Reaching up, she snatched the gun away before the thaumaturge could turn it on either of them, and the ramp began to rise, dropping them both down into the cargo bay.
An angry scream reached them, and then another chorus of howls that faded quickly away. The thaumaturge’s last fading effort to control his pets.
Cinder saw Scarlet shaking her head to rid herself of the fog, before hauling herself to her feet.
“Hold on to something if you can,” Scarlet yelled as she hobbled into the cockpit. “Ship, engage magnet lifters and rear thrusters!”
Cinder sank exhausted onto the floor, still clutching the gun. Moments later, she felt the ship rising up away from the Earth and whipping toward the sky.
Forty-Three
Kai was sweating with the effort not to throw up. His eyes stung, but he couldn’t look away from the netscreen. It was like watching a