a distraction, just like he said you'd sneak in using the nephilim's illusion power. In fact, every single thing he said about you came to pass. Exactly as he described."
"Do you want us to clap?" Knox snarled.
Thalasso grinned and raised his hand, readying his men to fire. "No. I want you to die."
"Pierce is gonna be there. You fucking know he will." Huntley poked the map at the location of the gate. "Like it or not, he knows us, knows our process. He taught us most of the field strategies we know. Closing the gate like this..." His distaste was obvious. "…how do we get close enough to it?"
Knox stared at the map. He tapped a pen against his chin, none of us bothering to tell him he was drawing lines on his face. "We use it. He's a narcissist who thinks he's a genius. We use that."
The doctor carried a plastic tub full of needles, tubing, and empty blood bags. "We measured Claus's blood three times. Using the measurements he gave me, we've got an accurate volume. Now we just need to figure out circulation time and how to add the exact amount of angel blood at the exact same time."
"And get enough of it so that it counts as a full sacrifice," Faust added.
The doctor's face darkened as her lips twisted with disdain. "It will take all of them." She sighed. "They'll need to practice. Many more times than once. We can't guess here. The size, depth, location, that will all change the flow, and they each need to be precise."
Knox's face had become stone the day we'd landed in Chicago, but at this, he paled. "We'll handle that part when it comes. For now, we'll practice. Faust, go with Storri and Claus to start gathering volunteers."
"That's an awful lot of faith we're putting in wild animals." Faust grimaced. To make it worse, he'd already told his best friend he wouldn't be coming with us. Dog's injuries caused him too much pain, and since we couldn't risk the wraiths—the link they had with Quinlan made bringing them ill-advisable—they'd stay behind too.
Knox growled and looked to me. "Do you think Claus can be trusted?"
"No. But I do believe whatever bit of soul he inherited from their father does allow him to care for Quin. If it's for Quin, he can be trusted."
My gaze drifted back down to the plan, laid out in easy steps on the table. "Is this really what will save the world?" Everything about the plan felt wrong, but we'd been pushed to the brink, standing at the literal end of everything we knew.
Quinlan settled his hands over my shoulder while the other omegas went to their alphas. "This will work," he said clearly. "It has to."
I hadn't had the heart at that moment to tell Quinlan that even if we did everything perfectly on our side, something could happen. Failure was always a possibility.
And as Thalasso's men prepared to fire, failure didn't feel too far off.
As quickly as it began, the wall of sound quieted into silence. The lack of noise was deafening.
Pierce snarled and wiggled the fingers of his new hand. Once he was sure he could move them, he yanked the walkie from the nearest soldier and barked into it. "Report."
"Sir," came the reply, "the animals are running away. They were attacking and just stopped."
"Say again?" A confused edge of panic crept into his question. He looked to his master.
"Sir, the animals have ceased and retreated. They're running away."
I was glad Pierce's eye had healed. Now he could stare into both of mine and clearly see my smile as I reached for the detonator. "Mas—"
For the second time, the forest exploded, but this time not with sound, but with fire.
I hunched over, shielding Quin and Storri with Faust as Knox and the twins covered Jazz and Sitka. Heat from the explosion singed my hair and clothes, while filling the space with the distinct scent of burning flesh. There hadn't been time for any of them to react before. Their screams came now, mixed with garbled moans of pain.
Thalasso pushed off the tree he'd stumbled into. The fire couldn't hurt him, but it had leveled the playing field. This was almost all worth it just to see the demon king's confusion followed quickly by his anger.
That's right, fucker. You'll choke on us.
Score one for Storri's mice. Keeping the explosive small enough to carry but advanced enough that I could detonate remotely had taken tweaking.
I