She fired off another round, knocking a soldier who’d dared to cross the threshold back into his comrades.
Surely by now she’d drawn the attention and fire of every unit in the base.
Something moved behind her to the left. She led with flames as she whirled to face the threat.
He caught them, tossing the ball of fire from hand to hand like a football, as he gave a familiar, if bloody, lop-sided grin. “Got a light?”
“Dad!” Relief surg
ed through her, and with it came a welcome surge of hope. She threw herself at him.
He fired off the round and caught her, grunting a little as she squeezed. “Good to see you, Spitfire.”
Embry pulled back, conjuring enough light to survey his injuries. He was covered in soot, sweat, and blood. Scrapes and scratches ran the length of his limbs. One eye was purpled and swollen mostly shut. The rest of his face was mottled with bruising, new and old. He was shirtless, and Embry noted additional splotches of livid purple over his ribs.
“You look like shit.”
“Well, Gage had to make it look convincing.”
“Gage? He fought you?” Before he could respond, her brain kicked into gear. “You. You were his opponent for the exhibition match.”
A spray of bullets whizzed above her head. She and her father answered with a volley that drove the front line back a good ten feet into the hall to escape the heat.
“Where is he?” she asked.
“Somewhere back there. I tried to Walk us both through, but the shadows couldn’t hold him. I dropped him in the middle of the fighting in the hall and came straight to check on you.”
Embry felt her blood run cold as she imagined him, defenseless by Mirus standards, fighting amid the dozens of soldiers with guns and knives and who knew what. Steeling herself, she resumed a defensive stance. “My position is stable. I’m not going anywhere, but they can’t come in either. He needs your help. He doesn’t have any of his abilities.”
“We need backup,” said Adan.
“So tell me something I don’t know. Unless you’ve got a small army hiding out here… Wait. The other prisoners. Would they fight?”
“Most of them probably would,” he said.
“Can you get down to the detention level to release them? I don’t know if anybody got out when I took out the power.”
“I don’t want to leave you.”
“I can hold my own,” she insisted. “We’re not gonna get out of here without help. See what you can do to snag Gage and get him out of harm’s way, then go release the cavalry. And pray to God they’ve got something here that can walk through iron walls or teleport.”
He embraced her again. “Be careful.”
“You too.”
In an instant he was gone, swallowed up by the shadows.
Time ticked past, measured by the syncopated rhythm of gunfire and explosions, punctuated by screams. From time to time, she ceased fire to draw the next line of soldiers in, hoping to draw more of them to her, to give Gage a chance.
Please, dear God, let Dad have gotten to him in time.
Her father’s words echoed through her head. The shadows couldn’t hold him. What if her father couldn’t carry Gage away from danger? Why the hell couldn’t the shadows hold him? The only creatures that couldn’t be carried in sustained shadow were of the light. Creatures like her elemental mother. Gage was a Shadow Walker. Or at the very least human.
She flashed back to the night before, lying sated in his arms, feeling the beat of his heart and of her flame inside him.
Oh God.
Rising up, she sent out a stream of flame to heat up the guns the front line men held.