Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 114925 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 575(@200wpm)___ 460(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114925 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 575(@200wpm)___ 460(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
He drew back his arm, intending to punch me. A growling Nine jumped between us. Good boy.
Mr. Vyle paused. Comprehension lit his eyes a split second before his entire countenance changed. His features sharpened, and his pupils slitted with a glowing golden outline. Smoke curled from his nostrils, and black claws grew from his nail beds.
“Soalian,” he hissed, revealing a forked tongue.
Nine attacked, but Vyle shredded the metal beast in seconds. Realization and horror collided. Vyle hosted Bala, Astan’s pet.
With an inhuman roar, he launched at me. We slammed together, flying to the floor. Impact shoved air from my lungs. Pain and dizziness welled, but they dulled in a storm of adrenaline.
When Vyle swung a hard fist at my face, I rolled to the side. More stings flared and dulled as I twisted and kicked, punting him in the nose. Cartilage snapped, and blood spurted.
I clambered to my feet, and new guards swooped in, imprisoning me. Fingers pulled my hair, squeezed my biceps, and shackled my wrists.
Through some miracle, I fought free and dove for the door to the rift room. But Vyle spun in front of it and slapped me, raking thick, black claws across my cheek. Searing agony, faltering vision. He kicked and I flew into a wall, cracking stone. My brain rattled against my skull, and my lungs emptied again. Dizziness roared back in a thunderous whirlwind as adrenaline dwindled. How much longer could I hold him off?
As long as it takes. I was Soalian. I could do anything.
A sudden, unexpected tide of strength swept through my limbs, flowing from my bond to Domino. Power up, baby! I recovered quickly, stopping a subsequent strike. But Vyle was faster and stronger than feeders. It wasn’t long before his fist collided with my forearm, shattering bone.
Agony not even my bond to the librarian could dull. Black dots winked through my vision. Vomit readied.
Vyle drew back his elbow to deliver another strike. I moved to parry when a scowling robed man ghosted through him.
Domino whooshed inside me. Click. Instantly healed and running on pure, undiluted octane, I shot off like a rocket, attacking everyone within reach with a skill I’d never learned.
Unlike before, when I jumped between bodies, we remained connected, the librarian’s mind open to me and mine to him. Vyle must have sensed his presence; he backed off, giving the guards a chance to subdue us.
Where have you been? I bellowed inside my head.
Through the bond, he heard.
If you knew half the things I had to do to get here . . . His growly words filled my head, an all-consuming tide drowning my anger.
We hobbled the remaining guards, our expert teamwork heralding the screech of an alarm. Dang it! Other soldiers would arrive any second, yet we had a final obstacle: Vyle.
With his patented almost grin, he trained his harbinger on us. “You can’t beat me,” he stated, smug.
“We don’t have to. You’re already defeated.” Domino pushed the words from my tongue. I soaked up his confidence and swagger, gulping straight from the tap. “Tsuri comes. You are soon to drink the cup of his wrath.”
I didn’t know the specifics of the threat, but what a threat it was. My skin bristled with goose bumps, as if the air itself electrified. Vyle turned ashen.
Flawlessly in sync, the librarian and I stepped forward, unafraid.
Our challenger reacted with a flurry of urgency, hammering at the gun’s trigger. Bullets zoomed our way. Perhaps I was seeing through Domino’s eyes. I watched those little missiles approach in slow motion. I could have moved aside but didn’t bother; there was no need. My body flickered in and out of intangibility, going from solid to mist and back to solid all within a heartbeat. The bullets flew through different sections of my torso, spraying the soldiers who had entered the hallway behind me. Down they fell.
Shock glittered in Vyle’s eyes. He ejected the clip, shoved in an extra, and fired anew. As Domino and I walked . . . jogged . . . sprinted forward, we twirled the makeshift daggers made from the bracelets and misted as necessary. Almost within striking distance . . .
With one swing, we would remove the executioner’s head.
We lifted the blades.
Boom!
A new shot rang out from behind us. A white-hot pang stung my side, and I jerked as Domino was shoved out of my body. Anguish pulsed in every inch of me. Blood poured down my side. Panting, I craned my head to glance over my shoulder.
Roman held a smoking gun. He sighed with displeasure. “I told you we weren’t friends, Ardie.”
“From behind?” I spat as my knees buckled. “Coward.”
“That wasn’t a kill shot,” he told me, unabashed. “Just a little trim to ensure you stay put.”
New guards poured into the hall. They bypassed the lord-in-training and came straight to me, binding my wrists with metal cuffs and hauling me roughly to my feet. My gaze remained on Domino, my sole source of comfort.