Page 138 of Hand-Fasting and Other Hazards
Lochlan’s gaze darted to Thane, who was focused on his tablet. The infrared scan glowed faintly, showing a small blob weaving through the field toward them. The clicks of weapons being armed echoed through the night. Lochlan’s pulse quickened, his hand instinctively tightening on the hilt of the knife Thane had given him.
The Videt guards around him murmured quietly, their voices tense. “Could be a spell,” one of them whispered.
“Wait!” Lochlan whispered, his eyes locked on the screen. He watched the blob carefully, his heart racing. “Jade?”
The heat signature on the tablet moved with more urgency. Lochlan’s breath caught as a white shape burst through the tall grass ahead. Jade cleared the fence in a single bound, landing in Lochlan’s arms.
“Jade!” The dog whined and licked his face, her whole body vibrating with anxiety. His hands moved quickly across her fur, feeling for anything out of place, afraid of what he might find. But there was nothing. No injuries, no blood—she was unharmed and whole.
Relief washed over him.
“Jade has been found,” Thane whispered through the comms, his voice steady and clear. “Prepare for extraction.”
Two of Thane’s men moved forward with swift, practiced motions. They cut through the wire fence, the faint metallic snip barely audible over the pounding of Lochlan’s heart. The group slipped through two by two, crouching low to keep their movements concealed.
On the far side, Echo and Jade took the lead, their noses working furiously as they sniffed at the air and ground. The two dogs seemed to communicate with each other in some unspoken way, pausing in unison as their bodies dropped low, their focus fixed on a large door ahead.
Thane gave a hand signal. The team fell into position, two men on each side of the door. In precise coordination, they wrenched it open with a piercing, metallic groan.
Chaos erupted.
A flood of chickens burst through the opening, wings flapping wildly as they scattered in every direction, their startled squawks mingling with those of the Videt guards.
One stumbled back, yelping like a child as a particularly angry hen flew at his face. “Get it off!” he shouted, swatting helplessly. The others recovered quickly, forming magical shields to deflect the onslaught of birds. But the dogs had already darted through the rush of feathers, slipping into the warehouse.
“Go!” Thane barked, cutting through the noise.
The team surged forward, Lochlan right behind them. Inside the warehouse was a chaotic swirl of motion and sound, shadows flickering against the walls as the team burst through the door. At first it was impossible to make out anything. Lochlan’s eyes scanned the space, his heart lurching as he searched for the glow of red hair and?—
Nia.
She was tied to a pole in the center of the space, her hands bound behind her back.
Relief slammed into Lochlan so hard it nearly knocked the breath from his chest. She was alive. But rage at the fact she was tied up, that she had been captured and might be hurt, followed close behind that relief. His whole body tensed, the magic within him rising, begging for release.
A man Lochlan recognized from the bonfire—Jackson—stood off to one side with Raymond, their expressions twisted with fear and uncertainty. A third man, the one who’d threatened Nia in her office and whom they’d seen on the street, raised his arms.
A stream of fiery magic hurtled toward Nia and the shadows she was clearly trying to conjure. But something was wrong. Instead of the bold, beautiful magic Lochlan had come to know and admire, Nia’s shadows looked faint and frail, nothing like the ones she’d used to easily fend off and restrain this man before. They wouldn’t be enough to stop him or his flames this time.
Lochlan didn’t think—he moved.
His hand shot to his spell kit, fingers closing around a small opal vial. The mixture inside—moonlace root, distilled and potent—gleamed like frozen starlight.
He smashed the vial in his palm.
The crushed glass bit into his skin, mixing the powerful extract with his blood. Cold bloomed instantly along his fingers, an eerie chill shooting through his veins. His bloodied fingertips carved a rune in the air, like writing in untouched snow, and the moment the final stroke connected, the air crackled with energy.
Frost raced outward as the glowing rune solidified into jagged ice.
A wall of shimmering, blue-white ice erupted between Nia and the fire, the flames crashing into it with a violent hiss. Steam billowed. The icy barrier groaned but held, its surface spiderwebbing with frost, reinforcing itself against the heat.
The enormous man snarled in fury and frustration.
“Cover me!” Thane’s voice roared through the cavernous space as he charged the man head-on. There was no hesitation, no finesse, just brute strength and sheer determination as Thane collided with him, slamming his shoulder into the other man’s chest. They fought, fast and brutal—no weapons, no magic, just fists and feet. Gregor’s sheer size gave him an advantage, but Thane’s speed and ferocity more than made up for it. In a matter of seconds, he had the bastard hog-tied.
Echo and Jade circled Jackson and Raymond like wolves closing in on prey, their teeth bared. Jackson had gone pale, while Raymond looked seconds away from bolting.
Lochlan barely noticed, his focus solely on Nia.
