Splinter (The Machinists Book 2) (24 page)

“Do you know that man?” Nolan asked.

“Yeah,” Allyn said. “He tried to kill me.”

“He looks like he wants to try again.”

“Yep.” Allyn stretched the word into two syllables, never breaking eye contact with Darian. They were two predators, each trying to establish superiority, and Allyn wasn’t about to lose.

Darian took two steps back so that he rested against the excavated earth. The others fell in beside him, extending out in a line that paralleled the door.

“What are they doing?” Nolan asked.

“They’re going to try and blow our house down,” Allyn said.

“Will it work?”

“No.” Liam’s face didn’t reflect the confidence in his voice. “That door is made of dual-paned bulletproof glass, nearly seven inches thick. You could hit it with a tank, and it wouldn’t buckle.”

“That doesn’t look like it’s going to stop them from trying,” Nolan said.

Weapons of magical destruction glowed in the hands of the Hyland magi, and on Darian’s command, they released their destructive creations, wielding again, and again, and again. It sounded like a war zone. The attacks echoed like mortar rounds. Allyn’s irrational self fought with Liam’s logical explanation, and he had to restrain himself from diving for the nearest cover.

When the assault finally subsided, a cloudy haze lingered outside the door. Darian strode through it confidently. His lips parted for a second, then his expression turned into something vile. He pounded his fists on the unbroken glass, screaming at Allyn.

Allyn strode to the door, stopping only inches from it. He met Darian’s eye, his stony expression matching the younger grand mage.

They stared each other down for moment, their breathing fogging the glass between them.

A sudden muffled
crack
broke the tension, and Darian whipped his head around to bark an order. His units disappeared from view, likely headed toward the ladder, which Nolan had placed on the backside of the library. Alone, Darian looked over his shoulder, a silent promise in his eyes.

This isn’t over
.

“Where’d they go?” Liam asked.

“I think our boys just arrived,” Nolan said.

Chapter 27

T
he cacophony of explosions echoed through the manor rubble as Leira’s squad advanced. She took point—an odd position for someone who didn’t have the magical ability to deflect attacks. But this was her charge. Her call. Since she’d received Jaxon’s order to hold, enough time had passed for the situation to evolve.

A rogue magi force had replaced the police, and by the sound of things, they were trying to break into the library. She wasn’t sure if Jaxon knew the situation on the ground. But that was her brother in there, and she wasn’t about to wait for Jaxon to get up to speed. She wouldn’t lose Liam, too. Besides, Jaxon trusted her judgment, and it wasn’t as if she was acting in secret. The moment she had decided to proceed, she’d sent word back to Jaxon, and he hadn’t reaffirmed his order.

Ren was at her shoulder. Leira felt more comfortable having her there, not only because she was one of the most powerful magi in the McCollum Family, and thus, able to protect Leira in ways she couldn’t protect herself, but also because she had been one of Leira’s staunchest detractors. She’d argued so vehemently that they should remain and follow Jaxon’s orders that Leira had almost expected her to stay behind alone. Ren running point did more than keep Liera safe; it kept their squad whole.

The rest of their squad had formed two columns behind them and followed at a moderate pace. Though they didn’t purposely seek cover, they remained in the thick of the manor rubble, where the half walls and piles of debris obscured them from view. And since the stadium lights remained off, the rubble was more than enough to keep them hidden.

The
crack
of magical explosions stopped, and an eerie silence fell over the grounds. Leira slowed and held up a fist. Her unit stopped behind her. Even if they were hidden from view, the sound of eight pairs of feet trampling across the manor ruins would alert the others to their presence.

White smoke—or perhaps a thick mist—rose from the far end of the library.
They were trying to break in
. Did the silence mean they had succeeded?

Movement caught her eye. Shadows on the horizon. Two. Four. She hadn’t seen them before. They wore black on black and blended into the dark horizon. Even their faces were obscured from view, either in shadow or by masks—she couldn’t be sure. They walked along the ridge that circled the library, backs to the structure, eyes surveying the grounds.

“A rear guard,” Ren said, appearing again at Leira’s shoulder. “I suppose that settles the friend-or-foe dispute.”

“They might still be ours,” Leira said, though the knot in her stomach told her she didn’t believe it.

“There’s little cover between us and them,” Ren said. “How much are you willing to risk by that statement?”

Leira ignored the question. Ren was right, and she knew it, so she was trying to rankle Leira as she had when they were teenagers. When they’d been friends. Before Jaxon. Before the accident.

The expanse of shin-deep ash and soot stretched out in front of them. The moment they moved forward, they would be seen.

“What do you think?” Leira asked. “What happens if this turns sour? Do we have the numbers?”

“There’s four on the ridge,” Ren said, sounding as if she were thinking aloud. “And I can’t be sure, but maybe another six or eight below. If we take care of those four and hold the ridge, then I like our odds. But if they break into the library, that can throw a kink in things.”

“Okay,” Leira said. “Wait for my signal and have the others focus concussions of air on the magi on the ridge. If it comes to a fight, blow them into the pit. That should take most of them out and keep our advantage of having the high ground.”

“I’ll let the others know.”

A minute later, Leira and Ren emerged from the manor rubble into the open stretch. Their squad—a mix of six magi from the McCollum Family and Hyland refugees—formed a wedge behind them. They weren’t a quarter of the way through the gray expanse before the first guard spotted them. He raised the alarm, blasting a three-foot-wide fireball into the early-morning sky then turned toward them, flames continuing to kiss the skin of both arms.

Leira stopped and held up a fist, halting her unit behind her. They shifted into a line that stretched out from her shoulders.

“He doesn’t look like he wants to talk,” Ren said.

The remaining rogue guards rounded the ridge and took up positions beside the first guard, mirroring the McCollum squad. One barked something to those below then strode in front of the magi line. He wore a mask that obscured the lower half of his face.

“And that one must be in charge.” Leira flexed her hands nervously and rocked her shoulders back, willing herself to appear confident. “I am Leira McCollum. This is my home, and we are in the process of retrieving that which is rightfully ours. Who are you? And what business do you have?”

The leader stopped and pulled down his mask, revealing his face.

Leira didn’t believe it. “Cason?” she asked, her disbelief clearly audible. “I thought you were…”

“Dead?” His wicked smile split his face. His sandy-blond hair had been cropped short, and his face bore half-healed scars. But there was something more, something that twisted Leira’s insides. The structure of his face was off. Like a shattered vase that could never be repaired to its original beauty, Cason’s appearance revealed the traces of an extensive healing process. His face was no longer his—instead, his features were a combination of his and another’s.

In a sudden and absolute wave of anger, Leira found herself clenching her fists and grinding her teeth. The adrenaline coursing through her veins willed her forward, encouraging her to strangle the breath out of the vile man in front of her. That kind of healing would never be done consensually. Like Cason, whoever had performed the healing would bear the scars and a misshapen face for a lifetime—if the cleric had lived through the process. It was an abuse of power. A violation. A perversion. A forbidden magi act, as equally offensive as developing an echo.

“You’re a monster,” Leira said.

“I’m necessary.”

“Did she live?”

Cason’s smile grew wider. “Leira, Leira, Leira. You’re a cleric. You exist solely to serve the more powerful. Don’t you understand? You’re my plaything, and I’ll do what I want with you and your kind, because that’s what you’re made for.”

Leira set her jaw and turned toward Ren. The shorter woman met her eye and nodded.

“Then play with this,” Leira said. “Now!”

Ren and the rest of their magi took a single step forward. The air distorted in front of them, and half a second later, the concussion rocked the landscape. Under the combined force, the unit of Hyland magi flew backward into the hole where the library had been dug out—everyone but Cason. Two separate concussions of air hit him squarely in the chest, and he flew backward over the hole, landing on top of the library in a heap. He rolled and slid until he finally came to a stop more than halfway across the roof.

“Bring him back to me,” Leira growled, then turned to the rest. “Advance and hold the ridge. Do not let them up. And if they so much as sneeze a spark, kill them all.”

Ren led the force forward to hold the ridge. She approached at a dead sprint, leaped, and launched a blast of air at the ground below her. The concussion propelled her higher into the air, and she easily cleared the gap, landing on the roof of the library in a crouch.

Cason wasn’t yet standing when Ren unleashed her first attack.

Ready the trucks
, Jaxon wrote.
Wait for my command.
He turned to Brandt, who was busy watching the flashes of battle in the distance.

“How’d he know we were here?” Brandt asked. He sounded exhausted.

“We have another spy,” Jaxon said.

Brandt sighed and looked at the ground. He wasn’t exhausted; he was beaten down. Defeated. The bags under his eyes were growing bigger; the wrinkles in his face, deeper. His shoulders were stooped, and there seemed to be more gray in his hair. He had thought fleeing Darian Hyland meant escaping the psychopath. Instead, Darian had exploited him, using Brandt and the McCollum’s collective desperation to his advantage.

“I didn’t want to believe it.”

“I need you to pull your family back,” Jaxon said. “I can’t have a spy undermining my operation.”

“I understand.”

Jaxon turned to leave.

“And Jaxon?”

Jaxon stopped.

“It isn’t me.”

Without a word, Jaxon left the older man behind and returned to the forest, where the rest of his unit lingered. “Form up! We’re going in!”

“Stand back,” Allyn said, red coils of electricity already around his arms.

“Allyn—”

“Stop!”

Allyn barely heard Liam and Nolan before he unleashed the energy. It struck the glass like a wave crashing against the shore, spraying uncontrolled tendrils of electricity about the room. One strand slapped against a loose stack of books and parchment, immediately engulfing them in flame.

“Damn it!” Liam screamed. He rushed toward the spreading fire and quickly snuffed out the flames using a thick woolen blanket that had been tossed over a stack of green totes. Liam took a piece of blackened parchment between his fingers and held it up delicately, glaring at Allyn.

“What did you think was going to happen?” Liam bellowed. “Darian couldn’t break in here with an army of magi. What did you think you could do?”

“I had to try something,” Allyn said, matching Liam’s intensity.

“You could have killed us!”

Allyn pointed a finger at the ceiling. The muffled booms of battle sounded distant, but Allyn knew it was only an illusion created by the well-insulated walls. “Listen to that. That’s your sister, Liam. That’s your Family.”

Liam’s face grew red with anger, and he strode toward Allyn purposefully. “You think I don’t know that? You think—”

Nolan grabbed Liam from behind. “Easy, Liam.”

Liam fought against his grip. “Let me go!”

“Cool it!” Nolan shouted.

Liam slipped an arm free and flailed wildly, catching Nolan on the side of the head with his elbow.

Nolan’s expression hardened, and any pretense of empathy or compassion disappeared. “Get control of yourself, or I will.”

“No,” Liam growled. The weeks of building frustration had finally caught up with him. Allyn and Jaxon had each had separate meltdowns at different times, but through it all, Liam had held it together. His turn had come.

Nolan hurled Liam backward and spun on him, finally placing himself between the two men. He held Liam back with a hand to his chest. “Knock it off! This isn’t helping things.” Nolan pointed a finger at Allyn. “You’re supposed to the adult here. Get it together.”

“He’s—” Allyn started.

“Stop!” Nolan bellowed. “You’re being irrational. Stop doing and
think
.”

“There’s nothing to—”

“No,” Nolan cut in. “
Think.
What is the problem?”

“We can’t get out.”

“Why?”

“Are we really going to do this?”

“Why can’t we get out?” Nolan repeated slowly, stressing every word.

“Because the door won’t open.”

“And why won’t the door open?”

“Because there’s no fucking power, Nolan.”

Nolan hummed calmly in agreement. “Because there’s no power.”

Allyn shook his head. “We don’t have time for this.”

“The computer,” Liam said wistfully.

Allyn stopped. Liam’s softly spoken words pulled at something inside him, prodding at reason buried under his emotion.

“The computer,” Liam repeated more firmly.

“What computer?” Allyn asked.

“Nolan’s computer. The one you found at your condo and tried to power with your magic.”

“Stop dancing around the edges, Liam, and come out with it,” Allyn said, annoyed. “What are you saying?”

“You can power the door open.”

Allyn barked a humorless laugh. “You remember what happened to the computer, right? I nearly melted it.”

“Fortunately for us, that door requires a lot more power than a computer does.”

Allyn licked his lips nervously. “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“I do.” Liam rushed toward the door. “The walls are solid concrete, so unlike a normal room where the electrical wires are strung through the walls, the wires in here are encased in this.” He kicked a small, insulated tube that stretched along the wall near the floor. “If we expose the wires, and you can feed them with enough electricity, the door should power up and allow us to enter the code to get it open.”

“And if I feed it with too much electricity?” Allyn asked, thinking back to his mistake with the computer.

“Then you’ll arc the circuit, and we’ll never get out.”

“Why did I even ask?”

“I doubt that’ll be a problem, though,” Liam said. “Those electrical wires feed everything in here. You’d sooner overtax yourself than you would arc the circuit.”

“That’s not making me feel any better.”