Page 90 of Taken

“Almost there,” Talon calls back, weapon raised as he scans our path.

A slow clapping stops us dead in our tracks.

“Well done, Reeve.” Creed steps from the shadows, a dozen guards at his back. “Or whatever your name really is.”

My heart leaps into my throat, the taste of freedom turning to dust in my mouth. Creed’s scales glimmer beneath his skin, rage poorly contained. Blood stains his uniform—it’s a small consolation when I sense that it’s his. His eyes fix on me, then slide to the bulge in my pocket.

“I suspected your loyalties were compromised,” he continues, addressing Talon. “Too much interest in our witch.”

“Step aside, Creed.” Talon’s voice is ice and steel. “This doesn’t have to get bloody.”

Creed’s laugh is razor-sharp. “Oh, but it does. It really does.” He gestures to the guards. “Kill them. Her first. Then bring me the Shard.”

Everything happens at once.

Talon shoves me behind a concrete pillar as gunfire erupts. Hargen presses against my other side, his breathing ragged in my ear. The Shard burns against my thigh, responding to the danger, to my fear, to my fury.

I’ve endured confinement, pain, having my mind torn open again and again. This man used me, broke me, treated me like a thing rather than a person.

Something snaps inside me.

I reach for the Shard, fingers closing around its burning surface. Power floods my system—not the controlled flow of the visions they took from me, but a raging torrent I welcome with open arms.

“Stay back,” I tell Hargen, the words vibrating with energy I can barely contain.

I step into the open, the Shard clutched in my palm. Gunfire stutters as guards hesitate, uncertain.

“Witch!” Creed shouts. “Don’t be stupid. You’re outnumbered, outgunned—”

A wave of power explodes from my hand, crimson light slicing through the air. Two guards fly backward, bodies crumpling against the far wall. The others open fire, but the bullets slow mid-flight, suspended in a field of crackling energy before dropping harmlessly to the ground.

“You stole my life.” Each word sends another pulse of power outward. Pipes burst above us, spraying steam and water. Lights flicker and die, emergency illumination casting everything in bloody red.

Creed’s face contorts with rage and something else… fear. The great Alastair Creed, afraid of the witch he thought he’d broken.

“Kill her!” he screams. “Shoot her!”

More gunfire, more bullets that never reach their target. A movement to my left catches my eye: Talon engaging guards, butsomething’s changed. His skin ripples, golden scales erupting along his neck and jawline. His eyes glow in the emergency lights, pupils contracted to vertical slits.

Dragon.

His beast is emerging. He moves with inhuman speed and strength, sending guards flying with casual strikes. Claws extend from his fingertips, slashing through weapons and armor alike. I can’t tear my eyes away; the transformation is terrifying and magnificent, power barely contained in human form.

My heart races faster, something primitive responding to his display of strength. This is what he truly is. Not the controlled security chief, but something wild and fierce.

I advance on Creed, my rage burning hotter than the crystal in my hand.

“You kept me from my daughter. Made me hurt others. Used me.” Each accusation fuels another surge of power, the Shard responding to emotions I’ve suppressed for so long.

“You’re nothing without us,” Creed snarls, but he’s backing away. “Nothing!”

“Watch me.”

I thrust my palm forward. Power erupts from the Shard, engulfing Creed in crimson light. He screams, scales erupting across his skin as his body tries to shift defensively. Too late. The energy lifts him from his feet, slamming him into the ceiling and then the floor with bone-crushing force.

“Lila!” Talon’s voice penetrates my fury. “We need to move! Now!”

I turn, the rage receding enough to clear my vision. The corridor is a mess: broken bodies, shattered concrete, hissing pipes. Talon stands surrounded by fallen guards, chest heaving, blood spattering his face. His eyes still glow, scales gleaming along his jawline and down his throat, disappearing beneath hiscollar. The sight sends a strange thrill through me despite the danger.

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