Page 89 of The Light Within

twenty-one

Julien

Julien was having the most delightful dream.

It was summer, a blissfully hot summer’s day, and he and Cinn were eating ice cream on the riverbank. Lavender ice cream, shaped into roses. Elliot and Darcy were somewhere nearby, joining them soon. The blue sky stretched out above him, and the intense sun bathed his face in a wave of joyful warmth. The sheercompletenessof the moment enveloped him, wrapping him in a cocoon of contentment. Contentment that he’d never felt before.

A chill suddenly prickled his skin, slicing through the summer’s day like a cold blade. His instincts flared, pulling him from the depths of sleep. The room was unnervingly silent, save for the faintest of clicks, like a door softly creaking. He reached out, searching for the familiar warmth of Cinn beside him, but his hand met only empty sheets. He jolted awake, his heart pounded with a primal sense of dread.

Something was wrong.

Something was terribly wrong.

Julien went to shout Cinn’s name, caught himself at the very last second.

Julien slid out of bed, his movements deliberate. He placed his feet on the floor, muscles tense like a coiled spring. With small steps and shallow breaths, he moved slowly, avoiding any hint of noise. In the thick darkness, he padded towards the lounge area, ears straining for any soundof Cinn. The outlines of furniture became clear, and he inched forward with mounting dread.

As he reached the doorway, Julien’s pulse stuttered, the sight before him sending a shockwave through his body, freezing him in his tracks.

Two dark figures, dressed in black, dragged Cinn across the floor. Julien’s breath caught in his throat, a surge of panic rising as he tried to process what he was seeing. Cinn wasn’t resisting, wasn’t moving at all. His body hung limp, unnaturally still, as if someone had knocked him unconscious. Or worse. The sight of his lifeless form in their grip sent an icy wave of terror crashing over him.

The glass doors leading to the balcony were open wide, plummeting the room to sub-zero temperatures. Barefoot and in pyjamas, Julien already had the disadvantage.

With a grunt, the duo dropped Cinn like a sack of potatoes, tossing him against the wall. One reached down to grab a huge swath of material—a sack? A body-sized sack?

One assailant reached for Cinn’s legs while the other held out the body bag.

Oh, God. If he’s dead…

Nausea roiled in Julien.

He’d had precious moments to form a plan, but hadn’t, so all he could do was charge into the room.

“Stop!”

Julien threw his hands out, flickering the overhead lights in warning. These men had to be moteblessed—this couldn’t be random. They’d see Julien was about to channel. They’d surrender, and back away from Cinn slowly. Then he’d knock them off their feet, knock them out, then knock them around until he got the information he wanted.

Because whoever was responsible for this now had a ticking bomb strapped to their back, fuse lit.

The two men did not surrender.

Both reached for guns previously unseen, moving in unison, mirror images.

The muted clicks as they trained their guns on Julien indicated they had silencers.

The pair looked at each other in silent communication.

One pointed their gun at Cinn.

The world seemed to freeze, the moment stretching into an eternity. Julien’s mind raced, a surge of raw panic and fury crashing over him like a tidal wave. That monster had a gun pointed at Cinn—hisCinn. His vision narrowed, focussing solely on the assailant’s finger tightening on the trigger. The room blurred at the edges, the ticking of his own heart slowing, each beat an agonising thud in his ears.

Without conscious thought, he channelled, reaching for motes.Themotes. The ones that were always there, waiting for him. Their energy surged through him, and it was like they were singing to him, thrilled to finally be used after a decade of being repressed.

The sheer amount of power almost had Julien reeling backwards.

He was invincible.

Unstoppable.

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