It was Logan.
“The bond,” she whispered, and suddenly she could breathe again, feel the concrete beneath her knees, the rise and fall of Logan’s chest below her palm, and his hand, his undeniable hold on the now. This was it.
She wasn’t sure if Logan had realized what she was doing. She didn’t know if he had suspected her plan, if some part of him had expected what was to come. But the connection fell together with a swiftness and surety that surprised her. It was that one detail, the ease of their bond, that gave her the advantage she’d need.
The futures spun, flipping into place like the shuffle of cards, a flash of outcomes that rolled before her almost too quick, and then fell home as smooth as the tumblers in a lock. She saw the right path. She found their escape.
A flare of power burst from the shadows, heading for Brianna with what was no question a deadly blow. She could see it, clearer than her own, stronger than her own, and she’d no time to contest it. But it didn’t matter if it hit her. It only mattered that the ancients were stopped.
She roared, pushing off of Logan with a ferocity and strength she’d only known that instant. The earth shifted, gravity spiking as Logan seized the power within their bond. She could see Emily in her vision, in that second part of her mind, and knew this was the only course. A blast tore from her, a blistering, all-searing power that swallowed every other energy in the room.
And time stood still.
There was the flash of steel as Kara spun toward the shadows, her clenched fist guiding the blade of a short, spiked knife. The report of weapons as the soldiers fired upon shadow guards, the blur of Eric’s bulk slamming into them, an inhumanly agile maneuver by Seth. All of it happened so fast, all of it in that one frozen second. And then Aern was there. Aern and Emily and the twisting, frenetic mass of bodies that swarmed the ancient shadows caught in Brianna’s snare. It would not last long. Even with her true power returned, Brianna could not hold that force—that single detonation that negated their power—for more than a moment.
But they didn’t need her to.
Emily screamed, tearing free of the grasping hands of the first shadow in order to grab the second, and Aern’s palms pressed to the man’s head, shoving a command through his pulse with everything he had. Eric had been sliced across the abdomen, a spray of blood painting the floor where he fell. Seth and Kara clung to their target, but neither had fared much better. Blood ran from Daniels’ face, but Brianna could see that he and the others were facing the guards with more proficiency than the last time they’d battled a shadow, and between the lot of them, and the brief, unexpected loss of power all around, the Seven were winning out.
They had done it.
It was a full minute before she realized she was shaking. Two more before she could convince herself to stop. Her hands passed over her chest, astonished that Logan’s spike had saved her from the discharge of power intending to end her, incredulous at the scene before her. The whole thing had happened so fast that she had trouble believing it had happened at all.
Apparently, she wasn’t alone. Several of the others sat stunned, staring at the tangle of bodies that had moments ago been the deadliest, most powerful creatures they’d known. It was over, and most of them had no true idea—aside from a raging fire and hurricane-force winds—what had even passed.
The building had fallen away. Everything but part of the back wall and a few distorted support beams had been broken to dust and scattered across the property’s lawn. Hunks of metal lay mangled amongst the debris; shattered fence posts and sections of roll-up doors littered what was once the tree-covered lot between the storehouse and main road.
There was no sign of Callan, of another shadow, of any of this property’s guards or staff. It was silent. Still.
Wrong.
Emily stood, brushing sand and dirt from the torn thigh of her jeans. Aern was a little less steady on his feet, having taken a blow to the head, and Kara knelt before Eric, digging in her cargo pocket for tape and bandages to help close his wound as the healing progressed. It was too late for the ancients. Brianna had instructed the others to do what had to be done.
There was no stopping them, no leaving them be. There was only the end.