Page 107 of Reluctant Rebel

“We have the element of surprise,” Draven reminded them quietly. His blue eyes were fixed on the approaching crowd. “He doesn’t know about your powers or the Horde. A single, decisive strike when Zagan is distracted is all we need.”

Mikhail studied Draven’s stoic expression. It was easy to forget that the prissy angel had been the sidekick of the Army General for dozens of years. He was just as skilled in strategy and combat as Brax was. Mikhail nodded his gratitude to Draven before turning and facing his brother. His heartbeat slowed without conscious thought, and he smiled, knowing it was harmonising with his mate. And Jinx, being the embodiment of strength and purpose, was chill. No racing heart for her.

Before Z could pass the designated marker, Mikhail tossed out one last prayer and tapped into his powers. Thankfully, his legacy answered his call readily, and a semi-translucent shield formed within seconds, wrapping them all in a protective cocoon. Z paused, calling a halt to his followers. He studied the forcefield with interest before tapping it and then raking curved nails across it.

Beside him, Brax exhaled heavily, and Mikhail understood. They hadn’t been sure it would hold up against Z. “Now for thenext test,” he murmured. Would it block Z’s ability to control them? “Zagan. Fancy seeing you here,” he shouted.

Zagan's eyes burned with a seething malice as he fixed his gaze on the freshly dug hole in the earth. “And you call me sick.”

“She doesn’t deserve to be next to Father!” Brax yelled with barely restrained fury.

“She deserves the world!” Zagan snapped. “And after I kill you and take control of Purgatory, I’m going to bring her back.”

“Bring her …?” Mikhail shared a horrified look with Brax. “That’s impossible.”

“Is it?” Z snapped. “Nothing is impossible when you have the right leverage. And I’m betting the threat of soul extinction will be ample leverage to bend even the highest powers to my will.”

“You’re willing to risk the eternal lives of every being in all the realms for a mother who fed you from a poisoned cup? Z …” Mikhail said softly, one last attempt to reach the man who had once been more than just an enemy. “This path will destroy you—if it hasn’t already.”

“Then I will be destroyed,” Zagan said coldly. “But not before I get what I want. Now …drop your forcefield.”

Z’s voice resonated with power, and Mikhail held his breath, waiting for the urge to obey. But it never came.

Sabre patted Mikhail on the back, saying, “Atta boy.”

Mikhail’s answering smile was grim. It was working, but they all knew they were on borrowed time. His command over his new abilities was rudimentary, and his stamina to maintain such a huge shield was pathetic. In fact, this was the largest barrier he’d ever created, and he credited it to adrenaline and stubbornness over skill. “I’m already starting to sweat here, Sabre,” he warned her.

“Just a little longer,” she whispered, stepping out from behind him.

Z furiously barked out more orders, and when nothing happened, his face turned eerily blank. “It appears we have a stalemate. I can’t get to you, and you can’t get to me.” He threw his head back, yelling, “You will all stay here until every single being on the other side of that barrier is dead by your hands.” Z’s army immediately became agitated, throwing themselves at the forcefield.

“What makes you think we can’t get to you?” Sabre asked curiously. Her arm was up in a flash, firing the gun with precision. The shifter standing next to Z dropped to the ground, a perfect hole in the centre of his forehead. Sabre grinned, aiming at Z. “Your turn.”

The shot resounded at the same moment Z dodged to the left. Luckily, he wasn’t faster than a speeding bullet, and Mikhail saw blood spray in an arc. But between one breath and the next, he saw Z raise his hands and cover the wound in his neck. “He’s not dead!”

Sabre swore, firing off round after round until all they heard was the clicking of the empty chamber. There was no sight of Z. “He’s not dead!” Mikhail exclaimed again. His body was beginning to tremble, and his head was pounding. “I can’t hold it.”

“You don’t need to,” Jinx soothed, suddenly beside him. She rubbed his back comfortingly. “You don’t need to. Let it go. He may not be dead, but he won’t be giving orders any time soon. The bullet ripped through his throat. His vocal cords are destroyed.”

Mikhail strained, not willing to take the chance. He couldn’t see Z anywhere, but the crazies he’d brought with him were still out for blood. “No.”

“Mikhail, your nose is bleeding,” Sabre stated evenly. She pulled the rings from two grenades and let them fly. “There. I gotin a few cheap kills. We’re ahead. If you kill yourself holding an unnecessary shield, I will be pissed.”

“She’s right. Besides,” Brax said, his armour taking over his body. “Why should you and Sabre get to have all the fun? It’s my turn.”

Mikhail watched as Sabre and Brax took off running, heckling each other about who would make the most kills. Draven shook his head but flew off after them. Mikhail’s forcefield flickered once, twice, before disappearing altogether. He fell to his knees with a groan, blood flowing from his nose. Jinx wrapped her arms around him just as the dozens of mentally roofied preternaturals charged. The Demon Horde sprang out from behind headstones, meeting enemies with the clang of metal and explosion of guns.

“Mikhail …”

Jinx’s beloved face appeared in his field of view, and he smiled. “You’re so pretty.”

Jinx frowned. “And you’re delirious. I hope you didn’t give yourself brain damage.” She pulled him to his feet, thanking Eric, who helped prop him up on his other side. “Gage?” she questioned.

Eric gestured to the chaos. “Playing.”

Jinx grunted, dragging Mikhail behind a large, ornate headstone. She tipped his head up, studying his face. “The bleeding has already stopped,” she said briskly, kissing him on the lips.

Mikhail accepted the kiss willingly. “Good. I don’t think I can create another forcefield yet. But I can fight.”

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