Chapter 38 Crash and Burn
The silence had weight to it, full of held breaths. Luz and May hunched over the laminate table, pointing at corridors and jotting notes in the margin of a photocopied floor plan. Leo flipped a coin between his knuckles, the metal a blur. It landed heads, spun, landed heads again.
He caught my eye and winked. “Heads for luck, right?”
I gave a half smile, looking back at my phone, staring at the screen.
The last podcast episode was ready. A final strike—my voice, trembling but defiant, unedited and raw. I wanted people to hear the fear, the anger, the truth.
The world needs your voice.
Aunt Reenie’s words rang in my mind. The cursor blinked over the word upload. I pushed the button and released a shaking breath as the episode disappeared into the ether.
“That’s it?” Luz said without looking up, trying to make her voice normal.
I gave a shaky nod, closing my laptop.
“Then it’s go time,” May said.
Kian finally turned. When he looked at me, there was something deeper than worry in his face; the weight of someone who has learned to expect loss.
“You sure about this?” he asked.
I nodded. “I have to be. This is how we get her out.”
He crossed the room and took my hands in both of his. For a moment, there was just pulse against pulse and the thin truth of inevitability. His thumb traced the inside of my wrist.
“Come here,” He led me into the study, and the instant the door clicked shut, the world narrowed to us.
“I need to say this before we go,” he said.
“Kian—”
“No. Let me.” His voice cracked. “If something goes wrong, you don’t wait. You run, and you don’t look back.”
My chest tightened. “What are you saying?”
He didn’t respond, his face flooding with grief and acceptance.
“No.” I grabbed his hands. “That’s not the deal—”
“I’ve already lost you so many times. I can’t—” His breath hitched. “I can’t do it again.”
“You won’t,” I insisted. “I’m not going anywhere, Kian. Not now, not ever.”
Then he kissed me, cradling my face in his hands as though he could keep me safe through willpower alone. When we broke apart, we tried to smile and failed. I threw my arms around him, pressing my face into his chest. He held me close, pressing another kiss into the crown of my head.
We stepped back into the main room. Luz synced our comms while May checked her medical kit. We moved like a single current, checking bags, spells, and wards. Then I paused.
“I just… I need a second. With all of you.”
They turned toward me, their eyes tight with nerves but their smiles reassuring.
“I know this is dangerous,” I said, clenching my hands into fists. “But I need you to know, I am so damn grateful for you. All of you.”
Luz tilted her head, hazel eyes holding back tears. “You’re not losing us, Mel. Not tonight. Not ever.”
May slipped her hand into mine. “You gave us something to fight for. You reminded me who I am.”
Leo tried to smirk, but his voice cracked. “You’re not getting sentimental on us, are you? Because I didn’t pack tissues.”
I laughed at that.
“You woke us up,” Luz added. “That’s what Persephone does.”
The name landed in me like a struck bell—loud, overwhelming and right in equal measure.
“I want us all to come back from this,” I whispered. “Together.”
Leo thumped his fist against his chest. “Then let’s go raise hell, rescue your mom, and take down this biotech nightmare, like the sexy, dysfunctional gods we are.”
The night air outside the facility was thick with tension as we stepped out of Leo’s portal.
News vans lined the street, their satellite dishes pointed skyward.
Reporters shouted into cameras while protesters pressed against barricades, their signs blazing under streetlights: EKKLESIA KILLS, SHUT IT DOWN.
My podcast had done its job. The world was watching.
Inside the alley behind the facility, we stood in shadow. May adjusted her satchel. Leo bounced on the balls of his feet, fingers already twitching with barely contained energy.
“You ready?” I asked.
May nodded. “We get Candace. We get out.”
Leo flashed a grin that didn’t hide the tightness in his jaw. “And we look damn cool doing it.”
I couldn’t help smiling. “You good on comms?”
He tapped the earpiece. “Copy that. Luz and your man are already online.”
Kian’s voice crackled in my ear. “You’re close. Security’s split between the crowd and damage control. You’ll hit the outer cameras in ten.”
Luz followed. “On my mark, I’ll blow the main gas line. Evacuation protocols will trigger. You’ll have five minutes of chaos. No more.”
“Understood,” I said.
We moved to the wall. I stepped toward the sealed door.
The electronic lock glowed faintly in the dim light.
Leo nodded at me. I pressed my palm against the metal.
Power surged from my fingertips, slow and patient.
The lock began to corrode, oxidizing at my touch.
Rust bloomed across the panel like a disease, spreading through the mechanism.
Finally, it crumbled to powder, and the door clicked open.
“Ten seconds to diversion,” Luz said. I could hear her grinning.
Leo muttered, “Showtime.”
Then the earth shook. A deep boom ripped through the air. Lights in the facility flickered, black smoke curling into the sky. The shouts of alarm from the crowd were drowned out by the alarms.
“Diversion triggered. Evacuation protocols active. Go.”
We slipped inside.
The hall was eerily sterile. White walls decorated with corporate art, trying to look scientific. Emergency lights strobed red as personnel rushed past, heading for exits. May led us forward. Leo flicked his wrist, and the cameras above us shut off.
I pulled the tracking devise from my jacket pocket. Hecate had magically manifested from some Ekklesia lab for this mission. The screen glowed, a pulsing dot marking Candace’s chip frequency.
“This way,” I said, moving deeper into the facility.
We moved fast, ducking between corridors, sliding past admin stations and labs. It all smelled like antiseptic. The devise vibrated in my hand, the signal strengthening as we descended.
A voice rang out through the vents. “All personnel evacuate to designated zones. This is not a drill.”
We kept moving.
“There,” I whispered, pointing ahead. “Down that hall. Third door.”
We raced down the hall, standing in front of a metal cell door, with only a narrow slot for food to be shoved through. Leo pressed his palm to the panel. “Magically sealed.”
“Let me try,” I said, stepping forward. I had no idea what I was doing.
Not really. But I focused my power through the door anyway.
The lock corroded and the sound of metal crunching under the weight of vines sprouting from every crack filled the hall.
Leo and May cringed, looking around for any signs of trouble.
There were none. The door caved in to reveal a sterile room, lined with medical equipment. Lying on a cot in the back was—
“Mom.”
Her body was pale, wires and IV lines tangled around her, but she was alive.
I pressed the comm. “We found her. She’s unconscious.”
“Copy. Get her out. Now.” Kian stated, his tone urgent.
I brushed hair from her face. “Mom, it’s me. We’ve got you.”
Her lashes fluttered. “Mel…?”
“Yeah. I’m here.” I whispered. “We’re getting you out.”
Leo ripped wires free while May’s hands glowed soft gold. She pressed her palms against the IV punctures on Candace’s arm, light pouring from her fingertips. The wounds sealed, but her mother’s skin remained sallow, her body limp.
“She’s heavily sedated,” May said, her voice tight with concentration. “I’m trying to counteract it, but—”
“Just do what you can,” I said. “We have to move.”
May kept healing what she could while I helped lift her. I draped her arm over my shoulder, and May grabbed her other side. We dragged her toward the door, her feet barely supporting her weight.
We stepped into the corridor. The lights went out, emergency red bleeding across the walls. Strange symbols I didn’t recognize carved into the metal flared to life, a glowing lattice snapping around us like a cage.
My power died like someone had snuffed a flame. I gasped, reaching for my vines. The magic writhed beneath my skin, straining toward the surface. But something was blocking them. The glow of the symbols pressed down on us like a hand clamped over my mouth.
“What the hell?” I hissed.
Leo threw out a hand to open a portal. Light sparked at his fingertips, then fizzled. He tried again, fingers splayed, face contorting with effort. The air resisted him, thick and unyielding. He slashed his hand through empty space. Nothing.
“Shit,” he hissed, trying a third time. His hands shook.
May’s palms flickered with weak gold light that died immediately. She stared at her hands like they’d betrayed her. “They’ve cut us off.”
“Binding runes,” Hecate’s voice came through the comms. She sounded furious. “Designed for you three specifically.”
“Melanie, get out of there!” Kian cried.
The intercom crackled. A new voice slid across the speakers.
“Hello, Persephone. We’ve been expecting you.”
I froze. That voice wasn’t Cyrus’s.
“I am Dr. Sloan,” the man said. “I am the Director of this facility.”
Dozens of soldiers filled the corridor, rifles raised. Dr. Sloan stepped through them. In his hand was a pistol. He smirked, lifting his gun higher.
“Special rounds. Designed to kill gods,” Sloan said. His eyes pinned me.
May shoved me behind her. “Don’t even try it.”
Sloan’s smile was the polite kind killers wear. May reached for her power—I saw her fingers curl, light trying to gather in her palms. It sputtered, no more than a glow, then died. The runes pressed down like a physical weight. Her jaw clenched.
Sloan pulled the trigger. The crack split the room.
May shouted, crumpling as the bullet ripped into her shoulder. Blood bloomed down her arm, and she dropped to her knees, still wedging herself between me and the gun.
“May!” I cried, sheltering my mother as best as I could. I reached for my vines again. They strained, writhed, begged to break free, but the runes held firm.