Chapter 26
Chapter
Twenty-Six
Winter
I'd been staring at the same spot on the ceiling while Zane drove.
My body ached from yesterday's adventure in the factory, but I refused to let it show.
The Bureau-issued SUV hummed smoothly beneath us, its magically warded frame providing a false sense of security as we headed toward headquarters for what Fenric had called a "routine check-in. "
Nothing about my life was routine anymore.
"You're quiet," Zane's mismatched eyes briefly flickered to me before returning to the road. "Usually you'd have made at least three sarcastic comments about Bureau protocols by now."
I shrugged, wincing as the movement sent a sharp pain through my shoulder. The prophetic markings on my skin pulsed in response, a gentle blue glow visible even through the sleeve of my sweater.
"Just tired," I lied, staring out the window at the passing scenery. "Near-death experiences take it out of you."
Zane's fingers tightened on the steering wheel. "Yesterday shouldn't have happened. We should have waited for backup."
"And miss out on all that quality time in a magical death trap?" I forced a smile. "Where's your sense of adventure?"
He didn't smile back. The tension between us had been building since we left the apartment, a strange electricity that had nothing to do with my prophetic powers and everything to do with the way his eyes lingered on me when he thought I wasn't looking.
"How's your arm?" He broke after a moment of silence.
I instinctively touched my sleeve where the blue markings crawled beneath the fabric. "Fine."
"Winter."
The way he said my name, soft but insistent, broke through my defenses. I sighed, rolling up my sleeve to reveal the glowing symbols that now covered my arm and snaked up toward my shoulder and onto my chest.
"They're spreading again," I shrugged. "After yesterday's excitement."
Zane frowned, concern etching lines around his eyes. "You should have said something."
"And what would that accomplish? More tests? More Bureau doctors poking and prodding me like I'm some kind of science experiment?" I pulled my sleeve back down. "No thanks."
The car fell silent again, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. I could feel Zane's worry like a physical weight, pressing against my chest. He cared, I knew that. They all did, in their own ways. But caring couldn't stop what was happening to me.
I shifted in my seat, trying to find a comfortable position that didn't aggravate my injuries. My knee throbbed dully, a constant reminder of old weaknesses made worse by new dangers.
"We should be there in twenty minutes," Zane's voice broke through my thoughts. "Traffic's light today."
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. The closeness of the car was becoming overwhelming, his scent, something electric and wild, like the air before a storm, filled my lungs with each breath.
I was hyperaware of every movement he made, the flex of his fingers on the wheel, the slight furrow between his brow as he concentrated on the road.
This thing between us had been simmering for weeks. The almost-kiss at the hot spring, the lingering touches, the way his eyes followed me when I moved. We'd been dancing around it, both of us too cautious to take the final step.
And then there was Rook, with his unexpected gentleness and that searing kiss that still haunted my dreams. And Milo, sweet Milo, whose lips had tasted of blood and courage in the aftermath of the Void Eater. Not to mention how Fenric had shown his true self to me.
God, I was a mess.
"You're thinking too loud," Zane lips quirked in a half-smile. "I can practically hear the gears grinding."
"Just wondering what fresh hell awaits us at this 'routine check-in,'" I snorted. "Twenty bucks says Fenric has at least fifteen new forms for me to fill out."
"Sucker's bet," Zane chuckled. "He probably stayed up all night creating custom paperwork just for you."
The joke lightened the mood momentarily, but as we turned onto the highway that would take us to Bureau headquarters, I couldn't shake the sense of foreboding that had settled over me like a shroud.
Something was wrong. I could feel it in the way the markings on my arm pulsed, in the hollow pit of my stomach. Horrace had sensed it too, becoming agitated before we left. Only Zane's promise to bring me back safely had convinced the manticore to stay behind with Milo, his skeletons and Frank.
We were about halfway to our destination when it happened.
The SUV's wards flickered, a brief pulse of blue light across the windows before dying completely. The dashboard lit up with warning signals, and Zane swore under his breath.
"Ward failure," his body immediately tensed. "Something's interfering with the magical protections."
I scanned the road ahead, my heart hammering against my ribs. "Cultists?"
"Probably," Zane's eyes darted to the rearview mirror. "Call Fenric. Now."
I reached for my phone, but before I could dial, something caught my eye. A roadside stand had appeared where none had been before, a simple wooden structure with a hand-painted sign reading "FRESH PRODUCE." Behind the counter stood a figure in a wide-brimmed hat, their face hidden in shadow.
"Zane," I gripped his arm, pointing. "That wasn't there a second ago."
"Glamour," he confirmed grimly, accelerating. "Hold on."
Too late. The figure raised their hand, and a series of glowing sigils erupted from the ground in front of us, spiked glyphs that formed a net across the road. Zane swerved hard, trying to avoid them, but the SUV plowed through the magical barrier with a sound like tearing metal.
The steering wheel jerked violently in Zane's hands as we careened off the road. I grabbed the dashboard, bracing for impact as the vehicle crashed through the guardrail and down a short embankment, finally coming to rest against a cluster of trees.
For a moment, everything was silent except for the hiss of the damaged engine and our ragged breathing. Then Zane turned to me, blood trickling from a cut on his forehead.
"You okay?" His voice was steady despite the circumstances.
Before I could answer, the driver's side window exploded inward. Zane reacted instantly, throwing himself between me and the attack, his arm coming up to block a blow from what looked like a curved blade.
"Winter, run!" he shouted, already shifting into battle mode, his movements fluid and precise as he fought off our attacker through the broken window.
I scrambled for the passenger door, my heart pounding in my ears. The prophetic markings on my arm were blazing now, responding to the danger, power building beneath my skin like electricity.
As I tumbled out of the car, I found myself face to face with three more figures in dark robes, their faces obscured by elaborate masks carved with sigils similar to the ones we'd seen in the factory chamber.
"The Chalice-Bearer," one of them intoned, voice distorted by their mask. "Our Master awaits your gift."
"Your Master can go fuck himself," I snarled, backing away as the blue markings on my skin flared brighter.
The cultists advanced in perfect unison, their movements unnaturally synchronized. I could hear Zane still fighting on the other side of the SUV, the sounds of combat punctuated by grunts of pain and exertion.
I was on my own.
The first cultist lunged, hands glowing with sickly yellow energy. I dodged, my bad knee screaming in protest, and lashed out with my marked arm. Blue energy crackled from my fingertips, catching the cultist in the chest and sending them flying backward into a tree.
The second and third attacked simultaneously, one throwing what looked like glass vials filled with swirling darkness while the other chanted, the air around them distorting with each syllable.
I ducked the vials, which shattered against the SUV and released writhing shadows that began to eat through the metal. The chanting cultist's spell hit me full force, though, and I felt my limbs grow heavy, as if I were moving through molasses.
Panic surged through me, followed immediately by a wave of raw power. The blue markings pulsed with an intensity that tore through the slowing spell like tissue paper.
"She resists!" one cultist shouted, backing away. "The prophecy protects her!"
"Then we take her by force," another drew a wicked-looking dagger inscribed with glowing runes.
I braced myself, drawing on the power flowing through my veins. The markings responded eagerly, too eagerly, the energy building faster than I could control it. The air around me began to shimmer, reality bending slightly at the edges of my vision.
No, not again. I couldn't lose control, not here, not now.
A battle cry from my left drew my attention as Zane vaulted over the hood of the SUV, his face streaked with blood but his movements still graceful and deadly. He launched himself at the cultist with the dagger, knocking them to the ground with brutal efficiency.
"Winter, behind you!" He shouted.
I spun to find the third cultist nearly on top of me, their hands wreathed in crackling energy. Without thinking, I released a portion of the power building inside me, a controlled burst that caught the cultist square in the chest.
They disintegrated. One moment they were there, the next they were simply gone, leaving nothing but a faint outline of ash on the ground.
I stared at my hands in horror, the blue markings still pulsing with hungry light. What had I done again?
"Zane," my voice cracked, the reality of what had just happened hitting me like a physical blow.
He was at my side instantly, his hand warm on my shoulder. "It's okay. You did what you had to do."
"I killed them," I whispered, my hands trembling. "I didn't mean to, I just wanted them to stop."
"I know," his voice was gentle, a stark contrast to the violence he'd just inflicted on the cultist now lying unconscious at his feet. "But we need to move. There could be more of them."
I nodded mechanically, trying to push down the horror and focus on survival. We needed to get away, to find safety.
A sharp cry of pain cut through my thoughts. I turned to see Zane staggering backward, a glowing shard of metal protruding from his side. The cultist I'd thrown against the tree was back on their feet, hand extended from casting the magical projectile.
"Zane!" I screamed as he dropped to one knee, blood already soaking through his shirt.
Rage replaced horror in an instant. The blue markings flared across my skin, power surging through me with such intensity that the ground beneath my feet cracked.
The cultist barely had time to raise their hands in defense before my unleashed energy engulfed them, leaving nothing but another ashen outline on the grass.
I rushed to Zane, who was pressing his hand against the wound, his face pale but determined. "Not as bad as it looks," he grunted, though the tightness around his eyes told a different story.
"Liar," I accused, helping him to his feet. "We need to get you to a healer."
"The SUV's totaled," he nodded toward the vehicle, which was now partially dissolved by the shadow magic. "And they've probably blocked standard teleportation."
I scanned our surroundings. We were in a small wooded area just off the highway, the sounds of traffic audible but not visible through the trees. The ambush site was designed to keep us isolated, to prevent witnesses or easy escape.
"Can you walk?" I asked, supporting as much of Zane's weight as I could.
"Do I have a choice?" he managed a pained smile. "The Bureau has a safe house about two miles east. If we can reach it, there should be medical supplies and a secure communication line."
I nodded, adjusted my grip on him as we started moving through the trees. Each step seemed to cause him pain, though he tried to hide it. Blood continued to seep from the wound, the magical nature of the attack preventing his usual rapid healing.
"How did they find us?" I asked after we'd been walking for several minutes. "The route was supposed to be secure."
"Inside information, maybe," Zane's breathing was becoming labored. "Or they've got better tracking magic than we thought."
"They knew exactly where to hit us," I frowned. "The ward failure was too precise."
Zane nodded grimly. "Someone's feeding them information about Bureau movements. The question is who."
We fell silent as we continued our difficult journey, both lost in our own thoughts. The implications of a traitor within the Bureau were too disturbing to dwell on, especially with Zane bleeding beside me and cultists potentially still on our trail.
After what felt like hours but was probably only twenty minutes, Zane stumbled, nearly bringing us both down. I managed to guide him to a fallen log where he could sit, his face now alarmingly pale beneath the blood and dirt.
"Let me see," I insisted, gently moving his hand away from the wound.