Page 97 of Wolf of Ashes
The two fire mages move fast, but they’re forced to proceed single-file along the aisle.
Orlan rises up behind the second one—the one with the ripped jeans—who spins to the threat behind him.
Fire blazes from the mage’s palm, shooting at Orlan’s face.
At the same moment, Orlan crouches and claps his hands together. Before his palms collide, I see for the first time the full extent of the inked markings on his palms: elaborate and glowing.
The clap of his hands sounds like thunder as magic explodes between his palms.
He evades the mage’s fireball, which hits the seat behind him and catches alight, and at the same time, he pulls his palms apart. It’s like he’s stretching magic between his hands, sharp blades of it, that separate into the shape of daggers.
Spinning deftly and evading another blast of flames, Orlan rams the first dagger into the mage’s throat and the second into his eye.
Thud-thud.
The mage hits the ground.
That’s all I see before the second mage reaches us, moving at a run now, pulling a rifle from his duffel bag. The rifle’s barrel glows with heat, and I can only guess at the fiery bullets it’s loaded with.
Opposite me, Jonah is up in his seat, appearing ready to tackle the enemy, but the mage passes me first and my claws are already out.
My left hand swipes the air, cutting right through the rifle’s barrel and sending the cut portion spiraling into the area at the feet of the oblivious teens.
The mage gives a shout, skidding to a halt, and I prepare to launch myself up and out of my seat when a glowing spear thumps through the mage’s chest from behind.
Orlan is poised there, arms forward, a thin line of magic connecting his hands to the spear, which he yanks out of the mage in the next moment, calling his magic back to himself.
The mage drops to his knees where he stands, blood bubbling up between his lips, half-turned to me. “Fucking pixie.”
I’m not sure why he’s cursing me.
Sure, I broke his gun, but I didn’t stab him in the back.
The mage falls forward onto his face. He’s tall enough that his head lands near Jonah’s feet. The fire jotunn promptly reaches down and presses a single finger to the dead mage’s forehead.
Heat bursts from Jonah’s hand. The mage’s body glows hot like a coal, and then, startlingly, it completely disintegrates into ash.
Orlan spins to focus on putting out the fire that the mage started, dousing it in blue light and extinguishing the flames.
But ahead of us, the fight between Gad and the bear shifter has turned nasty. The bear shifter punches Gad, knocking him into the side of one of the seats, wasting no more time on the vampire before he pounds up the aisle toward us. The bear is partially shifted, his claws extended and his chest so broad, he nearly doesn’t fit within the aisle.
A second later, Valki gives a scream and storms up behind him. Her muscles are visibly pumped and corded, her neck is thicker than before, and her eyes are so bloodshot, I can see the crimson color from here.
My own eyes widen. I’m not sure how she triggered her berserker nature, but I sure as fuck would not want her running up behind me.
She leaps onto the bear shifter’s back, right up between his shoulder blades, the black wire from her bracelets held taut between her hands.
He roars as the impact against his back knocks him to his knees, but he doesn’t have the chance to get up before Valki wraps the wire around his neck.
It tears through his beard and cuts across the front of his throat. She’s pushing with her knees against his back and pulling with her enormously muscled arms, and the shifter doesn’t have a chance.
A heartbeat later, she lets his body drop to the floor.
She stands over him, her shoulders hunched and her chest heaving. Her bloodshot eyes rake over us and she twitches when Gad steals close to her.
He stretches out his hand as if he doesn’t want to get too close.
He’s holding out a stick of gum. “Easy, Valki.”
