out fast. With that over, I knew what I had to do, and I needed to do it fast.
I needed to find Raphael.
I tried to steady myself on my feet as another explosion rattled the building, but it was further away and was quickly followed by a second.
I started running for the stairs and tripped over several objects, mostly debris. When my foot hit something soft, I looked down, and my stomach dropped for a moment at the black pant leg I saw under a rock. I followed the leg to find who it was attached to and saw Tarak, wide-eyed and in shock.
“Fuck,” I muttered, realizing running for my life wasn’t an option. I threw a glance over my shoulder, saw no one, then started to pull stuff off of Tarak. “I’ve got you. I’m going to free you then we need to get the fuck out, Warden. Do you understand me? You, Raphael, and I are getting out of here. I’m not dying here. Neither are you.”
His eyes found me, and something passed through them, but I didn’t know what, unable to decipher whatever he was feeling other than pain.
A roar was the only thing that pulled my attention away from Tarak, and I spun to see Raphael locked in a fight with a fucking redcap who didn’t have a glamour up. Towering to nearly seven and a half feet, I knew the fae-type, but not well. What I did know was this particular redcap was much larger than most, and he was a fucking monster.
“Raphael! Get away from him!” I screamed as the two brutes threw punches at each other. Blood flew, but I didn’t know whose.
“You should worry about me,” someone said softly. My pulse jumped as I slowly moved my gaze to the right and saw another escapee.
“Why should I do that?” I asked softly, seeing the very angry witch with a fanged smile. Every single tooth was sharpened to a point like a mouth of shark teeth. Some witches went off the deep end. This one was a clear example. To amplify his own power, he had sacrificed supernaturals and somehow turned himself into something strange and unique. The reason he wasn’t executed was everyone wanted to know how and what he'd done to himself.
Levi was a fucking monster.
He didn’t answer. By the way he was raising his arms and the words coming out of his mouth, I realized the physical protections weren’t the only thing down. Prisoners couldn’t normally use their magic.
Well, now they can, Kaliya. Maybe I should hurry up, stop being shocked, and just start killing them.
The idea was sound enough, so I started doing just that. I didn’t wait for Levi to finish. I reached to my holster and pulled my sidearm. His eyes widened as he realized I was very much armed and deadly. He jumped off the ruined walkway before his spell was done, and I started firing. I didn’t know if I hit him, and at that moment, I didn’t have a chance to care. He was gone, and I needed to help a werewolf Alpha. I turned back to Tarak, finally able to help him again. Reaching out, I touched his neck, trying to find his pulse. It was so faint. I put that aside and tried to move the last rock off him.
Move, you fucking rock. I need to get Tarak help. He’s going to die. I can’t let someone die right now. Not here. Not like this.
He stopped me with a single, gentle touch, putting a hand over one of mine.
“Crushed,” he whispered.
I paused for a second, letting that single, weak word penetrate the madness of my thoughts.
“Tarak,” I gasped, pulling back only enough to really take in the last rock. It was on his pelvis, and…I couldn’t find his pelvis. There was only a lot of blood, and I realized what he meant.
There was only so much supernaturals could heal from. If he was a vampire, giving him blood would help him heal while moving the rock. As a werewolf, he healed fast but not that fast. He would bleed out sooner or later, but that was the only option. In the madhouse of a massive prison break, there would be no way to get him the help he needed to possibly survive. Even with the help, there wasn’t much hope. His pelvis wouldn’t heal right due to the injury. He’d be wheelchair-bound in human form and crippled in werewolf form. He’d never