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“Fuck off, Jameson.” His voice was still a scary calm. “Before you cross my last nerve, I’m giving you one chance to surrender, reroute this plane, and turn yourself in to the council for judgement.”
“That’s not going to happen.” Jameson laughed. “I’ll die either way, so I might as well make it on my own terms.”
“Fine.” Titus’s arms were tense at his side, his fingers splayed wide, and before his one-word sentence had even completed, he’d leapt toward the onmyoji.
But even though his movements had been quick and he’d struck purposefully, Jameson was still agile enough to sidestep the dragon’s strike, leaping into the air and landing on top of one of the storage crates.
I could see the weakness in Titus’s form almost instantly. It hadn’t been obvious with Albert, who’d been taken by surprise at Titus’s sudden escape, but Jameson was more prepared. The dragon was slower than I’d expected from him, and already breathing heavily. Although I had no doubt that it was partially due to fury and an untamed mind, it was obvious that his own ordeal had sapped the strength from him.
Jameson, meanwhile, didn’t look tired at all. His grin was wide and his stride confident as his attention moved over the dragon. His voice was a low, smug taunt. “You’re looking a little haggard there, Ducharme. Maybe Albert was a better fight than I thought he’d be.”
“Albertwasnothing,” Titus growled low in his throat, and he crouched low, hand touching the top of the crate. “And neither are you.”
This time when Titus jumped to him, he did manage to strike the onmyoji with a well-placed uppercut, but barely. His posture shifted at the last moment, and he nearly stumbled after landing shakily on his feet.
When Jameson stumbled back against the door, hand to his face, his confident expression faltered slightly. “So you do have some fight left.” He frowned at the dragon. “However, do you honestly think you can make it much longer?”
The last of my resolve faded as guilt and anxiety weighed on me. Titus wasn’t backing down—in fact, his posture was fully confident, and he seemed more determined than ever—but I could see the worry in the lines of his face.
This would be agreattime for Mu to pop up once more, offering me his infinite wisdom and kick-butt fighting services, but that familiar feeling that I’d come to associate with an eventual Mu-takeover was not present.
My thoughts were still scattered and my senses dull. In fact, at the moment I wasn’t even sure I could sense a spirit. The cloudiness that’d always existed in my thoughts was presently gone, and despite hating the feeling for so long, I found I missed it.
Without my abilities, what was left? I was useless.
Jameson and Titus had clashed once more—Titus trying to kick his opponent’s legs from under him, and Jameson side-stepped it, punching Titus in the ribs. Both fell back, taking up defensive stances as they faced each other. Jameson was elegant and poised while Titus’s stance was animalistic savagery.
Meanwhile I remained in the place where Titus had tucked me away, in between the two men.
“There’s nowhere to go,” Jameson said, inclining his head toward the door behind us. “You’ll never make it to the cockpit before I stop you. You leave now, and I’ll go after her. And once we land, it’s over. Just give up.”
“Fuck you, Jameson.” Titus lowered his head and glared at the dark-haired onmyoji. “You think you’re winning now? But you have no idea how badly you screwed yourself. Your own quintet will be after you with this.”
The onmyoji paused, swiftly glancing at me, piercing into me, before he returned his attention back to the dragon, frowning. “I’m not afraid of Dubois.”
“You should be.” Titus smirked in response, but his smile wavered as, in an unexpected move, his opponent dropped his arms back to his side and relaxed his shoulders.
“You’re tired and weak,” Jameson said smoothly. “And I don’t have time to deal with you anymore. It’s time to act like the obedient animal that you are and go back to your cell.”
My heart pounded in apprehension at the uncertain look on Titus’s face and the way that his posture shifted from confident reassurance to wariness within a blink. But before the dragon could even speak, a shrill whistle cut through the air.
Titus froze entirely, staring at the onmyoji, and my teeth began to chatter.
“That doesn’t mean anything,” Titus said as he shook his head. His doubt faded and his features turned to stone as he retook his stance. “I’m still stronger than you.”
Jameson had raised his arm in the air, and gray smoke slowly moved across the ground as he grinned at the dragon. “Usually,” he agreed, white teeth flashing. “But not right now. And you can’t shift without risking her, it’s not a stable atmosphere.”
A falcon flew down from the ceiling, circling the room before landing on Jameson’s outstretched arm. He rounded on Titus, nodding, “Get him.”
The shikigami didn’t need any further urging, and it leapt into the air, massive wings spread.
Titus!
I’d half-risen to my knees, panic racing through me, as Titus jumped back, only just missing the falcon’s sharp talons.
I felt sick, watching Titus do his best to evade the bird and refocus on Jameson.
Was there nothing I could do to help? These weren’t spirits like I’d worked with in the past. I had no control over shikigami.
