Soul Fire (Darkling Mage 8)

I hardly had time to formulate a response. Mason body-slammed me out of the way as twin jets of fire roared out of Royce and Romira’s hands, joining into a massive gout of flame the shape and size of an enormous fist. It smashed through the warehouse’s doors, leaving a huge, flaming hole in its wake.

They made a damn entrance, all right.

Chapter 26

Thick smoke and white heat filled my nostrils. I backed away from the gaping, burning opening, fanning my hand in front of my face and coughing.

“What the hell was that?” I hissed. “Do you guys have special boyfriend-girlfriend powers now?”

“That was pretty wicked,” Mason said, peering through the hole.

“It’s called practice, Graves,” Royce said. ?

??Something you’d know about if you spent more time honing your craft.”

“Hey, I spend a hell of a lot of time honing,” I said. Not true. “You don’t know me. And why is it that you only ever show up when the going gets fucked?”

“Oh, excuse me. I guess I could just teleport me and Romira all the way out of here. We could be having banana daiquiris on a beach in Maui the very moment I snap my fingers.”

Asher’s mouth was half-open in quiet amazement. “Wow. Seriously?”

Royce stood to attention and sniffed. “The very moment.”

“Enough with the pissing contest, you two,” said another voice from behind them.

Bastion? He stepped up just short of Royce and Romira, giving me a quick, curt nod. “Carver called everyone he could. It’s a good thing we all exchanged numbers that one time we had dinner.”

I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised to see him turn up. Had to admit, I was glad it was in this sort of setting, too. We didn’t exactly leave off on good terms, Bastion and me. I’d have to make it right at some point, though.

“I mean, we also keep in touch over the group chat,” Romira said.

“Yeah,” Asher said, giving a small chuckle. “Carver’s getting better at all this tech stuff, I think. He can send messages without getting frustrated and setting his phone on fire now.”

Bastion and I spoke at the same time. “What group chat?”

Everyone, Royce included, looked elsewhere, scratching their necks or grinding their shoes nonchalantly into the ground.

“Never mind,” I snarled. “Always leaving me out of things. Come on. We need to rescue my boyfriend.”

Romira threw her arm out across my chest. “Settle down, tiger.” She gestured at the burning hole in the warehouse, then made a weird, blowing sort of pucker with her mouth. The flames guttered, then died out. “Now you can charge through.”

“Though I wouldn’t recommend it,” Bastion said. “The two of you made a hell of an explosion. How come no one has stampeded out to greet us yet?”

“They’re waiting,” Asher said. “This is giving Odin and his forces some kind of tactical advantage, so they’re waiting.”

“Well, it’s not like we can yell for them to come out,” Mason said. “The guy that needs rescuing is in this building somewhere. The things standing between him and us refuse to budge. Answer seems clear to me.”

Royce nodded at him approvingly. “I like this kid. No nonsense. Head in. Let’s fuck them up, boys.”

“Ahem,” Romira said. “Excuse you.” She swept forward, brazenly walking into the warehouse alone. Royce looked like he was about to say something, but only followed in silence. The rest of us filed in after them. I’m sure I wasn’t the only one surprised by what we found inside.

It was dark, gloomy, the interior of the warehouse far, far larger than the rundown building on the outside could contain. Like Lorica headquarters, or the Boneyard itself, or my enchanted leather backpack, Odin’s warehouse contained an interdimensional space. Great. So this was even more dangerous than any of us expected. And it was cold. So very, very cold.

Mason nudged Asher with his elbow. “Where to now?”

Asher’s glowing green eyes barely lit up our surroundings, the darkness returning each time he swiveled his head or blinked. “I can’t make heads or tails of it. I can see them – vague shapes of the dead, all around us.”

“I can help.” Romira cracked her knuckles, kneeled on the ground, and pressed her palms there, muttering an incantation to herself. Little wisps of fire rose from between her fingers, illuminating what I thought was a blank floor, but turned out to be cold, slick rock. I tapped my shoe against the ground.