Aeromancist (Seven Forbidden Arts 3)

“Don’t shoot!” the man from down the hallway shouted. “She’s got a detonator. If it hits the ground, the whole building will blow.”

The men stepped aside and let her into the night. Freedom.

“Go back inside and stay there,” she said.

“Lady,” one of them said, “I know you’re frightened, but we can help you.”

“Sorry.” She shook her head. “I just don’t know who to trust anymore.”

“Do what she says,” the voice called from inside.

The men filed into the building, their faces tight. She did a quick scan of the area. There could be more of them hiding out, but it was a chance she had to take. She didn’t know where to run. It didn’t matter, as long as she could get away. She threw herself into the darkness, painfully aware that Thomas’s wailing was giving away her escape route. There was no time to stop and soothe him. She had to get away first, far enough, and find some place to hide.

The heat was intolerable. Sweat trickled down her spine. The onslaught of it was almost too much, but she forced her body forward, over a lawn, faintly aware of branches scratching her legs and pebbles digging into her feet. Daring a glance over her shoulder, she saw men running from the building. They were going to come after her. They might even try to shoot her if she was too far for the detonator to activate the blast.

“Shh,” she said, hugging Thomas close, crying, praying, and running.

In the distance, she could make out trees. A forest. Easier to hide. Just a little bit farther. She stopped to push the book into her pocket to have a better hold on Thomas. Almost there. She nearly tripped when she started running again, but managed to regain her balance, and was saying another prayer when arms wrapped around her waist, brutally stopping her progress. The air was knocked from her lungs. Going down, she instinctively braced Thomas with her arms, but her body didn’t hit the ground. Instead, she was swept up into a strong pair of arms, a familiar smell of citrus and cinnamon penetrating her senses.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he said.

Lann. She was dreaming. Maybe she was dead.

The man who held her and Thomas ran for the forest. Behind the shelter of the trees, they stopped. Only then did she dare to look up into his face. A sob escaped her throat. Lann was staring down at her, his yellow gaze frantic, happy, and concerned. She burrowed her face in his neck.

“It’s all right, krasavitsa. I promise.” He kissed the top of her head and gently pried her fingers open, taking the detonator. “Take this,” he said to someone. “Deactivate it.”

“Got it. Move. I’ll cover your back.”

Maya?

She lifted her gaze. Maya had quietly appeared, her beautiful features visible in the moonlight. Like Lann, she was dressed in combat gear. With Kat and Thomas in his arms, Lann moved deeper into the forest until they reached a clearing where a helicopter waited. He lifted them inside before he followed. He crouched in the open door, his body tense and his weapon raised, until Maya’s dark figure appeared like a shadow. When she was safely inside, he said, “Bono, go!”

The blades spun to life, and a moment later, they lifted into the air. Lann and Maya scanned the ground from both doors, their weapons aimed and ready. Only when they were safely off the ground did they take their seats.

Lann’s gaze burned on Kat before he fixed it on Thomas. Emotions played over his features. He handed his weapon to Maya and reached for Kat, pulling her and Thomas into his lap. For the remainder of the flight, he cradled them in his arms, not saying a word. Kat nestled against him, allowing his heat to wrap around her and make her feel safe. Thomas settled when she offered him her breast, drinking greedily. She glanced up at her husband. Lann regarded them with an expression of possessiveness and tenderness. Her heart felt like bursting from the enormity of her relief.

He planted a kiss on the crown of her head. “We’re going home.”

They landed thirty minutes later on an airstrip. Lann carefully put Kat on her feet.

“Where are we?” she asked

“Costa Rica,” he said. “The heli is too small to take us all the way home. Fuel won’t last. We’ll take a private jet from here.”

Maya and Bono threw open the doors of the hangar. Kat clutched Thomas to her chest as Maya ushered her inside while Lann guarded the area, from time to time glancing at the screen of his smartwatch.

They boarded the private jet quietly and secured their safety belts.

Lann touched his earpiece. “Joss? We’re ready. Do we have permission to cross the air space?” He waited, then said, “Got that, Bono? We’re ready to go.”