Page 46 of A Brighter Yellow
“Anna, what is going on with you and this guy?” asked Charlie, looking up as Ochre raced by.
“Uh,” said Anna, pushing her C-4 into place before looking up at Charlie with a grin. “That is a bit of a long conversation. Which I’m very excited to talk to you about.” There was a loud bang on the doors that Ochre had just locked. “You know, as soon as we get out of here.”
“I might need some help with that,” said Charlie, giving her a smile.
Anna licked her lips nervously. Charlie only smiled like that when she was scared.
“I’m not feeling too good,” Charlie added.
“Don’t you worry,” said Anna. “Ochre and I will take care of everything.”
“You’re really counting on him,” said Charlie, sounding surprised.
An explosion rocked the room, and the two metal doors Ochre had locked went flying across the space. Anna grabbed Charlie and covered her as the shrapnel cut through the air. She felt a piece carve into her back, but the wound started to heal almost immediately.
“Ochre,” Anna yelled, “I’m not ready.”
“Coming, my love!” Ochre yelled, and Anna giggled. He was clearly working on finding cute nicknames for her. So far, she likedsunshinethe best.
“You’re kind of freaking me out,” said Charlie.
Anna ignored that comment. She didn’t have time to explain. She grabbed her detonator caps and risked a glance at the doors. A black cloud was pouring through and in the middle of it was Brett. He had ditched the bunny slippers but was still wearing his bathrobe and carrying a long black knife.
Ochre didn’t do any noble or historical poses as she’d halfway expected from a Fae. He just came in swinging, using his bow like a club. Anna thought it was the sexiest thing she’d seen lately. Brett managed to block and swung back with his knife. Ochre blocked in turn, and Anna yanked her eyes back to her work. The sooner she got it done, the sooner they could all get out. There was another boom, and Anna saw Ochre go flying through the air. More oily black smoke filled the room.
“Shit, shit, shit,” said Charlie, cowering down.
“Charlie,” said Anna, “you start toward the other door. I will meet you there. I’m going to go help Ochre.”
“Anna,” said Charlie, pointing at the far doors. Elliot and a swarm of warlocks filled the doorway. “Please tell me you brought a gun because I really want to shoot him.”
“No,” said Anna. “We didn’t think of that. Uh…” She took a glance back at Ochre. He was on his feet, but he didn’t appear to be doing anything. Then there was a startling gust of warm, damp air and blinding flash of light. Brett and the other warlocks staggered as if they had been hit in the face. By the door, three of the warlocks behind Brett simply sat down and began to cry. Anna scooped a hand under Charlie’s elbow and lifted her to her feet. Anna had to trust that Ochre could take care of himself—she had to help Charlie. A few more warlocks came in the far door. Elliot was grinning evilly. Ochre’s dream of leaving quietly was definitely evaporating.
“I will deal with Elliot and his friends. Stay behind me,” said Anna. “We’ll get out into the hall and then make for the front entrance.”
“Get me a gun, and I can at least do something,” Charlie said. Anna looked at her friend’s pallid skin color and thought that Charlie might be overestimating her strength, but she nodded.
“OK, here we go.”
“Well, bitch,” snarled Elliot, with all the confidence of a man with six guys behind him. “Ready to get what’s coming to y—”
Anna charged. She really had intended to go with the intestine ripping plan, but somehow she was just so mad that she picked Elliot up and used him as a club. Anna slammed him into a warlock wearing a classic black motorcycle jacket, then into another one in denim. In her peripheral vision, she picked up someone running at her. She whirled around, gave a tremendous heave, and threw Elliot like a shot-put.
The second she let go of him, she regretted it. How was she supposed to kill him if she let him go? She turned to track him and realized that Elliot and the third attacker had tumbled between Brett and Ochre. She growled in frustration and then got tackled from behind. She staggered as someone grabbed around her neck and yanked backward.
Well, hell no to that. Anna drove one elbow back into his stomach, then reached over her shoulder and seized a handful of hair. Anna yanked hard, ducking at the same time, and the warlock flew over her shoulder, hitting the ground like a wet sack of cement. She kicked him in the head for good measure, and the body lifted and flew another ten feet.
She turned around and faced two warlocks with guns.
“Dodge this,” one snarled, racking the slide on his gun. Anna embraced her wolf and started the change, knowing that the safest place to be was mid-change when the bullets hit. Her forearms stretched, her claws grew, her teeth lengthened. She saw the warlock’s eyes go wide in fear, and she snarled. There was a solid pop of gunfire, but it wasn’t from the two in front of her. They both staggered and turned toward Charlie. She was sitting on the ground next to one of the warlocks Anna had knocked over. She had a pistol clamped between both her hands, her elbows braced on her knees, and she was firing steadily. The warlocks flinched and ducked. One was clutching at his gut, but the other raised his hand, preparing to shoot Charlie. Anna reached out and swatted him, claws raking along his chest. Another blow, and the other went down bleeding too.
Anna shook off the dusting of fur and pulled her canines and long muzzle back into her face before turning to give Charlie a grin. She scanned the room for Ochre. It was time for them to go. She would just kill Elliot and Brett, and then they could leave.
Ochre front kicked out, using his longer reach to smash into Brett’s gut. Brett pivoted at the last second, not quite getting all of the power behind the kick, and lashed out with the knife. Anna heard herself squeak in a very un-wolfy noise of terror. Ochre blocked with his bow, but the blade slashed through it, breaking the arch of the weapon. Ochre lunged forward, blocking the backswing of the knife with his forearm against Brett’s. Brett pulled back and swung again. This time Anna could see that there was magic behind the swing. Brett lunged forward, and for a moment, both he and Anna thought he had won. The knife sizzled through the air leaving black smoke trails as it seemed to penetrate some sort of invisible barrier around Ochre, but Ochre wasn’t moving. Anna felt like the world was moving in slow motion. She wanted to run forward, but nothing seemed to be working properly. Then the blade stopped—inches from Ochre’s face. Brett tried to pull it back, but the blade was stuck right where it was.
She could feel the power build as Brett poured everything into retrieving the knife.
“Do I shoot him?” asked Charlie, staggering to her side.
