Page 85 of The Inheritance
I moved forward before I realized I had done it.
He just stood there.
I cleared the distance between us in a single breath. My hand drew back almost on its own.
Control your strength, control your strength, control your strength…
Panic burst in London’s eyes. His talent shot out of him, trying to shield him from me, but I was already swinging, and my fist tore right through his blade warden force field like it was a soap bubble.
I hammered a punch to London’s jaw.
The blow took him off his feet. He flew backward and landed on his back.
Yes! That felt amazing. I wished I could rewind time so I could punch him again. If only I had that power, I would just sit here and do this all day.
London tried to rise. Bear lunged forward like a bullet and pinned him to the ground. Her fur stood on end. Her mouth gaped, big teeth bare and wet with drool. She snarled like a monster from hell and clamped onto London’s right shoulder.
Well, at least it wasn’t his neck. That would’ve been too fast and easy.
London cried out.
“Drop him.”
Bear growled, her mouth full of London’s arm.
“Not food,” I told her. “Just human garbage. Back.”
Bear let go, snarled at London in case he didn’t get the point, and ran back to me, tail wagging.
London collapsed back onto the pavement. A man dashed to his side, knelt by him, and put his hand on the blade warden’s chest. A faint golden glow bathed London.
The big man in armor looked at the healer. The smaller man nodded. I finally recognized the two of them. The one kneeling by London was Merrick Jackson, Cold Chaos’ miracle healer. The man in armor who looked like he popped out of some medieval knight film was Elias McFeron. The Guildmaster of Cold Chaos.
Behind London, someone made a strangled noise. I looked up. Melissa was standing by one of the trailers next to a man in mining coveralls. Our gazes met. Fear slapped her face. She shoved the man out of the way, pushing him between us, and took off running.
The site was silent like a tomb. Nobody moved.
Melissa kept running down the street, to the intersection. She turned right and ran out of view.
“Leo,” Elias said in a deep voice. “Please inform HQ that Melissa Hollister has turned in her resignation, effective immediately. And call Haze.”
“Yes, sir.”
The man who answered was in his thirties, handsome, athletic, and his eyes were pure white. The light tactical armor fit him like a glove. I knew him, too. Leonard Martinez, Vice-Guildmaster of Cold Chaos. Cold Chaos had brought their best guns to take on the gate.
Elias McFeron turned to me. He was in his late forties, with short blond hair that was going grey. His face was harsh, with a square jaw and broad angles. He might have been handsome if he’d led a different life, but the breaches must’ve purged all softness from his soul and his face. Only hard resolve remained. His light blue eyes evaluated me with methodical precision. He saw my face, my expression, my coveralls, Bear at my feet. He missed nothing. Elias McFeron was very dangerous, and he’d decided I was a threat.
I didn’t want to kill anyone. I just wanted to go home, but if I had to cut my way through Cold Chaos to get back to my children, I would do it.
He opened his mouth.
I braced myself.
“Assessor Moore, welcome home. Perhaps we could have a word?”
13
Leo held the library door open. “Please.”
