Sorceress, Interrupted - By A. J. Menden Page 0,94
give up enough of your power to be scared?”
I sighed. “I always said it’s possible things can kill me. Like, a weapon meant to kill a god could likely hurt me, and . . .” I stopped dead in my tracks. “Oh. Oh, my.”
“Got an idea brewing?”
I jumped up and started throwing on clothes. “Kate’s here, right?”
“Last I knew, yeah.”
“Then I wonder if she would make a quick trip home . . . to possibly borrow one of her father’s weapons.”
Light dawned in Cyrus’s eyes. “Because if we get our hands on a weapon forged by one of the gods, powerful enough to kill another god . . .”
“It’ll definitely be enough to take out one super-powered kid. But we’re going to have to get in close to use it.”
Cyrus grinned. “Leave that to me.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
“Is everyone clear on what they’re doing?” Wesley asked.
“We’re going to beat the Cult of the Dragon into submission. Not much to misinterpret,” Toby said.
“Try not to die in the process,” Lainey put in.
“Lather, rinse, repeat,” Paul said.
Luke shook his head. “It’s still off-putting when you do that, Paul. I’m too used to the overly serious version of you.”
“See what you’ve missed?” Selena said.
Wesley smirked. “Fantazia, Kate and Cyrus are going after Dylan. We’re the big distraction. But should they need us, we go in on the assist.”
“Let’s just hope that whoever’s guarding Dylan is lovelorn,” I said, taking another look at Kate and remembering her powers. She could only coerce the unattached.
Kate shrugged. “I’m not above using my fists, sweetie.”
“Good to know.”
“Everyone keep your headsets on at all times,” Mindy spoke up. “I’m supposed to be battle coordinator, and I can’t be coordinating if I can’t hear you.”
Forrest glanced around at us. “You all scare me a bit,” he said, eyeing Toby nervously. He was in town to help and supposed he would assist Mindy in monitoring every location with combat. “We’re talking about life-or-death situations, in which you could all possibly be killed, and you’re acting like it’s no big deal.”
Toby smiled sadly. “Honey, it is no big deal to us. We do this on a daily basis.”
“The joys of being a mundane with a hero,” his boyfriend said, giving him a quick kiss. “Just be careful out there. All of you. But you especially, hon,” he said to Toby.
“It doesn’t get better if you’re both heroes,” Mindy spoke up. “I worry just as much.” She winced and put a hand on her stomach. “And worrying seems to wind this kid up. If only I were going out—”
“It’s no better when you’re in the field,” Lainey said.
“Everyone, we’re trained professionals. We’re all going to make it through this, just try to concentrate on what needs doing,” Wesley said. “I know it’s not going to be easy, but our concerns for our teammates should be at the back of our minds instead of the front. We need to get there before they release the Dragon.”
I turned to Cyrus. “Does Dylan know we’re coming?”
“You turned off the link between us, so I don’t know for sure, but he knows we have his location. You do the math.”
I nodded. “We’d better move fast. Everybody ready?”
Everyone nodded.
“You need me, you call,” Wesley said to me. Then, to the others: “Let’s go. It’s a good plan, Fantazia. Thanks for thinking of it.”
Using Mindy’s latest transportation device, we all teleported. In the moment between the EHJ headquarters and nothingness, I felt a shift in the atmosphere, like the whole world tilted. It was something that only another magic-user could feel, and it wasn’t good. Then we appeared in front of the Cult of the Dragon’s secret lair.
I stood upon a small hill overlooking an unassuming old warehouse at the edge of Megolopolis. The building was long abandoned, fallen to wrack and ruin. Nothing about it felt right, and something extremely significant felt wrong.
I groaned. “Oh, no.”
“Oh, shit,” Cyrus growled.
“What?” Lainey asked, looking sick.
Wesley’s face was a mask of determination. “The Dragon. He’s out.”
The nonmagical members of the team stared at us in horror. I felt the same.
As if in response, an army of cultists came flooding out of the warehouse. They were led by a darkly handsome man with crimson hair. He called out across the field between us, “Old One. We will have words. And I will have your friends’ blood.”
Wesley stared at me. “Get in there and stop Dylan.”
I stared back. “Dad, you’re going to need our help.