28
SCOTTY
A loud bang resounds through the air so thunderously that every single Evot's and Exot’s neck swivels my way in a flash in the same millisecond I’m shoved to the side with so much force and speed, my own neck nearly cracks.
I land harshly in a puddle of blood I can’t even make myself think about when my brain is now all muddled.
I’m so disoriented that it takes me a moment to process the fact that I’m very much alive and not decapitated.
But when I do comprehend what’s happened, a fear and anger roar up so violently within me alongside a torrent of affection that if I weren’t already a heap on the floor, I might’ve been blown off my feet from the power of it.
Right where my neck once was . . . it’s now Ezla’s head.
Slammed to the side by the Avri axe that whacked into her taalk helmet.
She just . . . took that for me.
Doesn’t matter if taalk is resistant to Avri and can’t be damaged by it, keeping her completely intact—that would still fucking hurt with the strength of the collision and the way her neck had to have been whipped to the side. And even if it hadn’t, it’s the principle of it.
She just saved me.
To her own detriment.
And everyone is rooted in place, thoroughly, undisputedly astounded—the Evots harbouring a whole swamp of horror with that, too, but I can’t compare our expressions to those of our assailants to decide if they also contain that specific emotion at striking the woman who’s often seen as the symbol and idol for Exots in such a way.
Finally, Ezla’s tut cuts through the thick silence. “I hate axes. Does no one know that by now?”
The tension climbs even higher, air stuffing itself down my throat tightly.
Ezla snaps the man’s neck.
A beat.
Then the room’s yanked back into reality, and I jump up, tossing myself back into the fray along with everyone else.
It’s quickly dealt with after that, with our Bonded swiftly chopping the remaining men down like trees.
For once, I can see the effort as she battles with those closer to her level than ever before, but it doesn’t take away the brilliance of her movements, especially not as she flings a body double her size over her shoulder and jams her boot into another’s gut in the same merciless motion.
Following that display, with one last slice of Tate’s luminous green blade across the only remaining foe’s neck, it’s done.
We’re left panting into the club that’s now completely empty other than for us and the bodies littering the floor, and those harsh, ragged breaths are all that can be heard.
Until Tiger grunts and drops to one knee. “Right, guys—this is it. I’m leaking red bodily fluid, and that’s never a good sign.”
“Tiger!” My voice comes out strangled, hardly making it past the lump in my throat as I bound across the space between us, crouching down and wrapping a steadying arm around his waist.
“Tiger . . . ?” Alby’s quiet voice vibrates with his distress.
“I’m okay, Bestie!”
My brother’s face gradually drains of colour.
“Follow me,” Ezla snaps. “Now.”
As if on autopilot, my legs obey her, bringing me to my feet and Tiger with me.
Cooper silently closes in on his other side for support, alarm flaring in his eyes as he sees the amount of blood flowing from the large gash in his hip and thigh.
He might act like a bit of an asshole sometimes, but it’s glaringly clear right now that he does care.
We reach the entrance hall. “Grab your armoury sticks.”
Doing as my Bonded says again, I hurriedly limp Tiger over to the lockers containing the black batons. We quickly open them with a scan of our fingerprints as we’d been instructed to upon entering the club hours earlier.
Once we’ve returned the armoury sticks to our backs, Ezla says curtly, “Put him in my Avri car, then follow behind. Be cautious of any pursuers.”
She exits the club with us hot on her heels, sprinting forwards before manifesting her car beneath her.
I don’t even have the mental capacity to be amazed at the fact I’m seeing an Avri car that has two seats rather than one due to our bonding again, not like I was when I saw my first one in real life when we left the Headquarters earlier today and tried using them for the first time.
Stopping the car by the curb as soon as possible, Ezla flings the passenger door open, and I race the remaining distance between us before carefully settling Tiger in the seat within.
The last thing I see is his lazy grin that he somehow still manages to pull even now, if more weak and lethargic than usual, his eyes worryingly heavy-lidded, before the door slams shut in my face and our Bonded’s Avri car zips away in a blur of luminous crimson.
It’s then that I realise exactly who I just entrusted with my brother’s life. The fact that I trusted her so easily, without thought.
And the fact that it doesn’t worry me at all.