Vivian didn’t even bat an eye at the odd request while another round of gunfire echoed outside. She rummaged through her purse and tossed a black cylinder to him, not moving from the security of being underneath the desk.
Catching it deftly, Antonio handed my gun to me. “Just keep shooting while I handle what needs to be done.” I aimed the gun at the window, listening to him move toward Pearl and Jack. “This will make them forget. When you get to your destination, all you have to do is finish the ‘X’, and they’ll remember. Their memories will be fully restored.”
From the corner of my eye I saw Ezra grab Antonio’s forearm. “This won’t harm them?”
Antonio shook his head. “No. I’ll make it so they remember everything except any memory of their deceased mates until the spell is completed.” He paused, rolling his shoulders. “They will be in pain when they remember, but not from anything I’ve done.”
Ezra released him, nodding.
I knew this. Ezra knew this. Both of our mates had died. Pearl and Jack would need us more than they ever had until their lives untwisted from the ache of loss. The feeling of loss for my late mate had never really diminished until I had opened myself to their friendship.
Antonio squatted over them and began to murmur his spell.
Ezra watched for a moment before he stepped over Mrs Jonas’s corpse on the floor, not even giving her body a second glance, and maneuvered to the bags Antonio had brought.
More than curious, I probed, “What things were you talking about?”
Kneeling, Ezra lifted a handheld gun from the depths of one of the bags and set it aside before continuing his search. “I don’t know what they were. Not Com. Not Mys.” My body stilled at the implication, even as he pulled a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt from the bag, which appeared remarkably like the clothes Ezra owned. He grunted, studying them. “I’ll explain later.”
A Com head poked inside the room via the broken window, and I fired instantly. The head no longer poked. Nor did it do anything else, since half of it lay on the floor while the rest of the body lay outside the window.
“Not Com or Mys? How is that possible?” Seeing Ezra raise his hands to yank the blood-drenched robe over his head, I kept my focus directly on the Coms’ access point, giving him privacy. None of the Prodigies — him, me, Pearl, or Jack — had on anything under our robes.
“It’s possible,” he grumbled, to my left. “But I’ll explain it when we have more time.” I could hear him pulling the jeans on, the rustling of fabric. He grunted again. “This is handy, but I think Antonio stole my damn clothes.”
“Or he purposely had them for this exact reason,” I murmured, most definitely beginning to suspect that Antonio knew more in advance than the average individual.
After a moment, Ezra hummed in agreement. “I think he also has your clothes, and Pearl’s and Jack’s, in here.” I heard him rummaging through the bag. “And wipes. Perfect.”
“Ezra, hurry up,” Vivian ordered, definitely using a mother’s tone. “Elder Farrar appears to be finishing.”
Ezra stalked in my direction. “Get changed. I’ll watch the window.” He tugged the black shirt over his head with one hand, holding the opened packet of wipes in the other. When he was finished dressing, I placed my gun in his waiting hand, and he began cleaning his face and arms one-handed with the wipes while keeping my gun aimed at the window.
I darted to the bag of clothes and found inside black cargos and a yellow shirt, which were absolutely mine. I pulled them out and hastily returned to Ezra, hiding behind him — he was the perfect screen so no one could see me — and beginning to change. Just as I had zipped my cargos and begun yanking my t-shirt over my head, I heard Pearl and Jack moan. I flinched, praying the spell Antonio was placing on them held true. If it didn’t, I would have to knock their asses out and cart them over my shoulder to get them out of here alive.
A particularly loud explosion woke them fully as I was pulling my hair out of the collar of my shirt. It rocked the building, and I teetered, falling against Ezra’s solid back. We rested against each other for support as the floor trembled under our feet, but the room we were in stayed intact. Earlier, Vivian had rambled that the room may have been spelled, and I was beginning to think she was correct. Especially when I heard parts of the upper floors crumble and bang against the ceiling but not crash through.
“What the fuck?” Jack shouted over the resounding noise, sounding shaken…but not wretched, which he should have with Nikki dead.
“We’re under attack,” Antonio explained calmly. “You and Pearl need to get changed. You four have a job to do to move Mysticals to safety.”
“Were we injured?” Pearl asked, sounding muddled…but not screaming in agony from Gideon’s death. “I don’t remember anything but the initial blast.”