Blind Warrior (The Weavers Circle #3) - Jocelynn Drake Page 0,119

with delicate ferns and twinkling white lights. Four humans stopped in their attempts to escape and turned straight toward Grey.

Swearing, he lowered his guns and dug deep into his powers to locate the enthrallment spell wrapped around their brains. There was nothing pretty about it. He found the edge and ripped it off like grabbing a Band-Aid. Or maybe more like mental duct tape considering the way they cringed and shouted in pain. Grey took the time to shove one thought into their brains: Run!

Now to find John.

Grey turned in time to see a chair hurtling at his head. He twisted, lifting one arm to block the impact. Fucker threw a chair at me! John was definitely eating a bullet now. Maybe an entire magazine.

The pestilent leader was running deeper into the mall, threading his way through the screaming and panicked hordes of people. Grey got only two steps when Cort’s voice cut above the noise.

“Grey! Help!”

Grey’s heart lurched in his chest and he twisted to find Cort at the edge of the food court, fighting off at least half a dozen people trying to take him apart. Shoving the guns into their holsters, Grey hated that John was right about one thing—they wouldn’t slaughter innocent people. Not when Grey could save them all now.

Using his power, he ripped away the enthrallment while running to Cort’s side. He shoved people away, wordlessly ordering them to leave the mall. Rage bubbled in Grey’s veins as he took in Cort’s torn shirt and bloody lip. His left eye also looked like it was starting to swell.

“Are you okay?” Grey demanded. He quickly ran his hands over his lover’s arms and torso, trying to check for injuries.

“I’m fine. I’m fine, I swear,” Cort said. He grabbed at Grey’s hands, stopping his inspection. “I’m sorry.”

“No, there were too many. We still need to get you—”

A loud growl and even louder scraping on tiles halted Grey’s words in time to see an enormous tiger come barreling toward the food court. Unfortunately, Baer was going too fast as he tried to make the turn. With no traction on the slick floor, his back paws slide out from under him. He spun, sliding and roaring in frustration, just as he plowed into the sunglass kiosk. The stand crashed over, and sunglasses flew through the air.

“Holy shit,” Cort whispered.

“Yeah,” Grey sighed. Not something a person was likely to see every day.

The grumpy tiger climbed to his feet, kicking at the stand with a rear leg. He shook his head and growled again.

“Baer! Get Cort out of here safely!” Grey ordered. “And shift into something that can handle these floors.”

The tiger seemed to glare at him for a second before a bright light enveloped him. When the light receded, an elephant was standing in its place.

“Seriously?” Cort started.

Baer didn’t give him a chance to argue as he started moving Cort along with his trunk. Maybe not as fast as a tiger, but he was a damn good defense against attackers.

“Thanks, Baer!” Grey called and darted in the direction he saw John run.

As he reached the main thoroughfare of the mall, Grey’s steps stumbled a bit as he took in the chaos in front of him. Smoke was starting to gather along the ceiling of the first floor and drift up through the openings to the second floor. People were running and screaming everywhere, though there were slightly fewer now. At the far end, he could see Lucien creating and putting out fires with broad waves of his hands, trying to herd people toward the exits while cooking any pestilents that were stupid enough to get close to him.

Not far from Lucien, Calder had water from a nearby fountain dancing in the corridor. Waves would soar through the air to crash into would-be attackers and then swoop back to the Weaver as soon as the pestilents or humans were knocked off their feet.

And there was John. Grey snatched up one of the guns and opened fire on the bastard. He was a good aim, but not good enough as the bullet went wide. Chunks of drywall and cheap tile jumped from the wall.

“Let’s work something out, Grey,” John called over his shoulder, his voice full of mocking.

Work something out. Grey was ready to see Lucien reduce his fucking corpse to ashes. The bastard darted through a crowd of people who turned as one toward Calder, threatening to overwhelm the new Weaver. Cursing John, Grey stopped to remove the enthrallment from