Chapter Thirteen
“ I can only hope Cassidy’s intel is useful. The attacks have remained sparse and mostly limited given the targets, yet I doubt active demons will be content taking scraps much longer. ”
And the pot on the back burner of my mind began to overflow.
Milo’s thoughts circulated so triumphantly that I put all my attention on him, remaining on autopilot once I got home.
He wouldn’t visit me tonight; I didn’t bother checking the buzz of my phone as he sent a phony text about being stuck in the office.
“Shit,” he mumbled as he drove toward Cassidy’s club. “ If you’re linked, you know the paperwork was an autocorrect by my damn phone. I’m working a case. ” Satisfied by his correction, he smirked. “ If he’s not linked, he’ll never know. ”
For someone who knew my telepathy better than most, he still missed catching some of those thoughts that spun through his head. I chuckled. It was a really difficult thing to avoid a thought, even when someone was aware they were thinking it. Pesky thoughts slipped by so swiftly.
Milo walked up to Gwendolyn’s Guns he compartmentalized it, still studying those surrounding him now .
He acknowledged it, understood the cause and reasoning, and fixated on ways to steer something extreme to something successful.
He’d focused much of his time snuffing out followers and possibilities which might lead to an onslaught that’d cause a city-wide rebellion.
Remaining delicate because there were folks who needed to raise awareness about the injustices of licensing.
Still, he regretted not taking a more thorough approach.
Had he, there might be a chance he caught sight of these individuals who’d set this trap in the back alley.
Wind splashed my face as I flew in the air while struggling to maintain the link. How would he have known this possibility when they’d designed enchantments specifically to block his branch?
“You’re awfully calm, Enchanter Evergreen.” Gavin approached, channeling fire in his fists.
“Just wondering how closely you lot examined those sigils.” Milo eyed each of them, studying their movements, the release in some magics, and delving into countless scenarios of assumption. “They aren’t specific to my frequency, which will be your downfall.”
He boasted, knowing full well he didn’t have the time or energy to override the sigils. Sure, if Milo focused, pushed his psychic energy ahead, he could overpower the weak hexes and reveal whatever intricate details necessary on their futures, this trap, and the reasoning behind the attack.
There wasn’t time for that, however, and in an instant, Milo leapt forward, grabbing two attackers by the throat and dropping them to the ground.
He channeled enough telekinesis to stun them into submission before lunging for his next target.
The only purpose behind his comment was meant to invoke hesitation, which worked. He’d struck three others with telekinetic bursts before a single person raised a magical counterstrike .
Enchanter Evergreen didn’t need his branch for this battle.
The dual-screen vision shook my flight. Each breath was tight, painful, merged by the thinned air and confining alleyway battlefield where Milo fought.
I was too worried about his safety to focus, which meant the only way I could safely reach him was by quelling my telepathy entirely. But the second I turned it off, if I even could, I’d have no idea how he was.
My teeth chattered, watching flames, toxic smoke, ice, and bullets all aimed at Milo. My levitation faltered, frightened, sending me propelling downward faster since my telekinesis continued at full strength. I plummeted like a rocket.
Milo eliminated each one, telekinetically shifting ice to catch the bullets, propelling the toxic smoke into flames that he’d guessed was flammable. Not guessed. Predicted, based on experience.
He soared with levitation and telekinesis at heights none of his attackers matched. Predicting when they would cast, strike, or parry, Milo struck each foe down one by one.
A telekinetic punch rendering them unconscious; a low swoop of his leg to drop them to the ground; shifting their body right as they cast magic and causing chaos onto another one. It had nothing to do with his clairvoyance.
I panted, channeling his strength, my own exhausted body waning. Crashing into a nearby rooftop, I skidded across the shingles, wincing. I needed to help. I punched the roof, cracking a stone shingle.
It wasn’t nearly as effective or powerful or precise as the telekinesis Enchanter Evergreen unleashed. I couldn’t do anything to help. Every step I took, every attempt to use my roots drained my telepathy and hid the scene of Milo’s battle unfolding before my eyes.