One second my head was spinning from all the chaos, all the violence around me. The next my head was spinning because Alec was kissing me. His mouth devoured mine, intense and urgent. One of his hands gripped my hip while the other still held on to his gun. For few blissful seconds, there was nothing but Alec.
I let the Light gush through our connection. He really didn’t need to kiss me to get it. I could’ve given him all he needed with a simple touch. I could’ve done it without touching him at all. No, Alec was kissing me so intensely because he needed it—needed the comfort before doing the one thing he hated most: using his ability.
But we didn’t have time for this. After only a few moments, I pulled away and gave him a firm nod.
He squared his shoulders and turned, blocking me from most of the action. With a deep breath, he lowered his head and clenched his fists, every muscle in his body tensing as he unleashed the full force of his pain.
We’d been practicing as much as we could, but it was more difficult to do that safely with Alec; someone always had to volunteer to be exposed to excruciating pain in order for us to test his limits. But he’d managed to work out how to isolate specific individuals when sending out a massive blast of his power. Still, his technique was far from perfect, especially in such a hectic environment.
I felt the sheer force of Alec’s ability as it blasted out of him. Some people screamed, clutching their heads or stomachs before falling to the ground. Most just crumpled immediately, unconscious, their brains incapable of processing that much pain.
All the noise of people killing one another ceased. Bullets stopped sailing through the air. Things stopped crashing and smashing. People stopped barreling into each other. All was silent as I breathed heavily, my chest rising and falling in an unsteady rhythm.
As soon as bodies hit the floor, Tyler reloaded both his guns. “Regroup! Assume there are more coming! Let’s get the wounded to a safe distance and restrain the enemy operatives!”
I lifted my head, letting my surroundings soak in. Smoke billowed from the corridor to our left, which was choked with debris. Most of the furniture—tables and chairs, lounges belonging to various airport cafés—was strewn about or pulverized. But the worst of it were the bodies. A lot of them were just passed out, taken down by Alec’s ability, but many more were surely dead. A heavy metallic smell mingled with the smoke—blood.
Blood was everywhere. It wasn’t as obvious on the black clothing of the Melior Group operatives or Davis’s men, but it was stark against skin. It dripped off the counter near where we stood, giving Jackson Pollock a run for his money with how far and wide it had splattered.
Bile rose to my throat and saliva filled my mouth; I struggled to take a deep breath. Everywhere I looked there was blood. With every breath, I could smell it. My eyes started to water as I clenched my jaw, willing myself not to lose it. Not yet.
“Jamie!” Dot’s shrill scream echoed in the now silent, cavernous space.
Just a few yards in front of me, Dot sprinted over bodies and dropped to her knees in a slide, Kyo and Charlie hot on her heels. Her frantic hands ran all over the body of a man dressed in black. Jamie’s bright red hair stood out among the dusty gray debris.
Marcus rushed over from the opposite direction, holstering his gun. I rushed forward too but stopped just short of them. What could I possibly do?
“Was it Alec?” Dot sounded frantic as Kyo hurriedly checked Jamie. “Please tell me it was just Alec. He’ll wake up. He’ll be fine. He just needs to sleep it off.”
I hadn’t even realized Ethan and Josh had followed me or taken my hands in theirs, but I squeezed them tightly, dreading what Kyo would say next. I could see the devastated look on his face.
Kyo closed his eyes and swallowed slowly before straightening up.
“No.” Dot shook her head, her expression something between angry and broken. “No, no, no, no . . .” She kept repeating the little two-letter word as if it would bring him back, as if the rapidly widening puddle of blood around him would magically retreat, as if his chest would start rising and falling once more.