leaps off. And just like that, it’s over. The guys shift back, breathing hard from the exertion. Somewhere in the facility, I can hear an alarm going off.
Hunter is the first to my side, already fumbling with my restraints. “Boots,” he says, his voice breaking with worry, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t…” I rasp. “Don’t apologise. Nobody’s fault.”
“I shouldn’t have tried to push you away,” he murmurs, pressing his forehead to mine as his voice breaks a little. “I should have listened to you. I should have…”
My left hand, now free, comes to rest on his cheek. “It’s okay,” I whisper, running my thumb over his soft skin. “I’m here.”
“How are you feeling?” demands Shade, now standing at my other side. “Can you stand?”
“I don’t… The machine…” I pant.
Landon whirls around to stare at the equipment they have me hooked up to. “Where the hell is the off switch on this thing?”
“There is no off switch,” Silas tells him flatly, breathing a long jet of fire into the device. There’s the smell of burning plastic and noxious steam, and we watch as the machine slowly melts down into a pile of scrap, letting out a few final listless beeps.
Landon gently removes the IV line from one of my arms while Shade works on the other, and within moments the guys are helping me sit up.
“Here, hold on to me,” Silas says, putting an arm out. I allow him to support me as I stumble down from the bed, but my legs are too weak to support me, and they crumple out from under me.
Hunter catches me. “Don’t try to move. I’ll carry you.”
“Are you sure?” I ask, eyes wide.
“Of course,” he replies. “Vampire, remember?” Without another word, he shifts back into his vampire form and scoops me up into his arms, carrying me bridal-style towards the door.
“We have to leave now,” Landon says. “This place is going to be crawling with guards any second.”
“Come on,” says Shade, taking the lead as we hurry out the exit door. “This looks like a way out.”
We find ourselves in another fluorescent-lit hallway, hurtling down with hardly a glance behind us. I can feel the guys stealing concerned looks at me, fear and relief in their eyes. “I can’t believe it worked,” I rasp, burying my face in Hunter’s chest.
“Shh,” says Shade, turning to put a hand on my thigh. “Don’t try to talk. It’s okay. We’re here. We’re safe.”
That’s enough for me, and by the time we emerge into the bright sunlight, the pain of the past hours is already beginning to feel like a distant dream. Being surrounded by guys you love will do that to you.
The relief is short- lived, however; the shrill alarm is still blaring out of the facility, and we turn around momentarily to see guards pouring out of the doors and into the remote field where we now find ourselves. “Run,” says Landon.
“We can’t outrun them,” protests Shade.
“Millie,” Silas says gently, “can you teleport us? It doesn’t need to be far. Anywhere that’s not here.”
“She’s barely hanging on,” protests Hunter.
“I can try,” I say, struggling to pull myself up in the vampire’s arms. It feels like I weigh a thousand tons, but I’m not about to give up now, not when we’re all still here and alive. Closing my eyes, I reach for my witch powers. They were elusive before, but I’ve been able to jump us across the planet once already. If I just dig deep, tap into my energy reserves…
But almost as soon as I begin searching for that cool, familiar magic, my blood runs cold.
I try again, more desperately this time, throwing off all thoughts of Hawthorne and the procedure and concentrating completely on accessing my form. But it’s not an issue of concentration, I realise with a surge of dread. It’s not a problem with my ability to access my powers, because my powers aren't there. They’re gone, as surely as my physical strength is gone, and it doesn’t take more than a second for the terrible, terrible truth of my situation to dawn on me.
I can no longer shapeshift.
* * *
To be continued in book four of Supernatural Shifter Academy. Pre-order now.
About G. Bailey
G. Bailey is a USA Today and International Bestselling Author of fantasy and paranormal romance.
She lives in England with her cheeky children, her gorgeous (and slightly mad) golden retrievers and her teenage sweetheart turned husband.
She loves cups of tea.
Chocolate and Harry Potter marathons are her jam and she owns way too many notebooks and random pens.
About Regan Rosewood
Regan Rosewood is a new author from England, where she lives just down the road from G. Bailey.
She has a cute cat and an addiction to reading.