Chapter 72
Ezra
We’re sprinting into the heart of town. Ash rains down.
Smoke coalesces and rockets to the sky in great plumes.
Everywhere, people scream, darting past us.
My chest is on fire. I search for Conin amidst sudden chaos, keep Atlas nearby by holding his hand.
Angelics cry to reach the tunnels, which are Proctus’s last resort in the event of an attack like this one.
I won’t go. Not yet. Not until I find the other half of my whole.
“There you are.”
He bloodies Atlas before he can teleport away.
“You little shit,” says Callum Finch.
Before I can react, the mercenary knocks me to the ground.
The prominent, puckered scar on his cheek mocks me.
I see him in the mirror at Emery’s party.
I see him in my constant nightmares, his gun raised, and his decrepit grin.
His hands come down to the base of my throat.
In a flurry, Atlas teleports and comes at Callum from behind.
He wraps his long, slender arms around Callum’s neck, gripping the skin with ruthless force.
Blood slips from Atlas’s fingernails where he rips at skin.
The mercenary wails while I attempt to get to my feet.
Callum throws Atlas off, but not before Atlas disarms him—the gun clatters into the grass.
I watch while the two dive to retrieve it.
I rise to my feet and sprint toward Callum to dissuade him from reaching the weapon—a scream tears at my throat.
I feel the burn, the inhalation of pungent smoke, the moment Atlas takes hold of the gun and sets to aim.
He fires, but the bullet misses Callum by mere inches.
The crack of gunfire relays in repetitive bursts—Atlas is being fired at.
With a grim, panicked expression, he teleports but doesn’t reappear.
I dart my head every which way. He never comes back.
“You fucker,” the mercenary roars.
I’m whipped in the head. The weight of my body crashes into the earth.
My vision is compromised, and blurry, but there’s no mistaking Callum’s snarl.
He seizes my wrists and starts to drag me away, Barclay’s men surrounding him in support.
I blink, dazed by my downfall. My mind screams for Conin and Atlas. Black clouds cover the sky above.
I gasp for my last dregs of air.