Light flashes behind my eyes and I feel my consciousness start to slip. But in the gray space between nightmare and darkness I see a blur of deep blue streak past me and crash into the shoulder of the Storm.
The winds howl and writhe and twist as a shadowy gray fog seeps out of the Living Storm’s wound, making the air taste salty. I gag as I wriggle free from its weakened grip—realizing my mistake when I drop like a broken-winged bird and there are no winds to float on or call to my aid.
I brace for impact, but at the last second my Westerly shield surges, coating me in a thick shell of air that absorbs the bulk of the crash.
The Living Storm’s giant fist hurtles toward me and I scramble to my feet seconds before it crushes where I’d been lying. I stumble toward my lost wind spike, but the Storm grabs my legs and I have to cling to cracked ground with all the strength I have left.
I’m about to lose my grip when a blur of blond hair charges toward me and slashes through the wrist of the Storm with a spear of deep blue.
The Storm’s arm crumbles into a thick gray fog that makes it impossible to see as its roar of pain shakes me down to the deepest parts of my essence.
I fight my way through the flying debris as the Storm howls again and more fog explodes around me.
Before I can take another step, a streak of blue shoots past me, slicing through the thickest mass of fog. The sickening gray mist parts for the briefest second and I get a glimpse of the blond warrior as he raises his spike and launches it for the Storm’s head.
“No!” I scream—but it’s too late.
The spike hits its mark and the world explodes.
The choking cloud turns everything black as the earth shakes and rocks rain down and a high-pitched squeal sears into my brain. I know I need to run, move, breathe. But I can’t.
The Storm is gone.
Vane is gone.
Strong hands grab me from behind, shocking me with tiny sparks when they spin me around.
“Hey, calm down,” a familiar voice tells me as I kick and thrash and fight to break free. “It’s me.”
I freeze, squinting through the fog to stare into a face that’s every bit as perfect as it is impossible.
“Vane?” My knees give out and I collapse into the warm arms that shouldn’t be here, soaking up the electric tingles I wasn’t supposed to feel again. “You’re dead.”
“I am?”
He takes my face in his hands and tilts my chin up, forcing me to look into his eyes—vivid and blue even in all this darkness and chaos.
I don’t know if this a dream or a delusion—but I know what I want to use it for. I pull his face down to mine and kiss him with every ounce of the love and longing that I’ve held on to all these weeks.
He tastes sweeter than I remember, and the heat between us is more intense, surging through me like a desert storm as I part his lips and kiss him deeper. His sparks burn on my tongue as I let the last parts of myself pass to him—sharing everything. Making him mine.
This is all I want, and if somehow I get to live this dream instead of having it ripped away, I’m never letting go. Never letting fear come between us again.
I hear another explosion and Vane’s hands slide to my shoulders and push me gently back.
We both gasp for breath and I shake with a giddy laugh.
He’s still here.
Still warm and beautiful and—
“We’re in a crapload of trouble—you do realize that, right?” he asks me.
I force my eyes away from his face and realize the fog has cleared enough to show the chaos and destruction all around us.
“I know, I’ll explain later,” Vane says to someone behind me, and I spin around to face the blond warrior, who I realize is a Gale I vaguely remember from my days in training.
“Looks like I get three for the price of one,” Raiden calls, his deep voice echoing around the canyon.
I glance up and find Stormers crouched in the cliffs all around us, holding wind spikes aimed perfectly at our heads. Every possible path is blocked—even the entrance to the Maelstrom—and the air is filled with nothing but scratchy, broken drafts.
Raiden stands between two of his Stormers on the highest foothill, his stance oozing calm and confidence as he studies the three of us.
“I’d surrender now, if I were you,” he warns.
Vane raises his wind spike as Gus sweeps his hair back and hands me the weapon I’d lost. He has another, darker blue spike clutched in his fist.
“You got any ideas?” Vane asks him.
He wipes away the blood that’s streaking down his face from a cut near his eye. “Yeah. We fight.”
CHAPTER 25
VANE
A huge part of my brain wants to celebrate the fact that AUDRA JUST KISSED ME!!!!!!! But this is so not the time.
“I’m being very generous with my patience,” Raiden calls as the Stormers in the cliffs test their aim. “I’d prefer to bring all three of you with me—but I really only need one. So put aside your weapons, lie down on the sand, and spare yourself unnecessary losses.”
“Or you could put down those pathetic things you call wind spikes,” Gus shouts back, holding out the spike I made him so the sunlight shines along the sharp edges, “and spare me from having to pick you off one by one.”
I grab his arm and pull him closer to Audra and me. “It’s probably not a good idea to piss off the guy who could shout a kill order any second.”
Gus wriggles out of my grip. “He’s not going to kill us. He saw what I just did to his beastly Storm thing—he’ll be careful until he sees how powerful we are. And pissing him off is the best way to get him to tell me where my dad is. People get sloppy when they’re angry.”
“Your dad?” Audra interrupts.
Just the sound of her voice makes my heart all race-y.
Dude—focus!
“The Stormers took him this morning,” I tell her, surprised at how long ago that feels. “That’s how we found this place. We followed their trail.”
“How long have you been here?” Gus asks Audra. “Did you see where they brought him?”
“I did,” Audra whispers, turning very pale.
Gus grabs her arm. “What? Where is he?”
She’s wobbling so much I have to steady her against me. “What’s wrong?”
“I . . .” Her voice cracks and she takes a deep, shuddering breath. “The Storm—”
“I’ll give you until the count of ten!” Raiden shouts.
Gus leans closer. “We’re running out of time. Where is my dad?”
“Nine!” Raiden calls.
Audra shakes her head, her eyes glassy with tears as she holds Gus’s stare. “The Storm that you . . . I watched Raiden make it. He took a prisoner and he tangled him in dark winds and made them swell into a giant mass, like a cocoon. And when the drafts finally unraveled, all that was left was . . .”
I watch all the blood drain from Gus’s face, and I’m sure mine’s doing the same.
So . . . the weird Storm thing with a head and arms.
That was . . .
And when Gus destroyed it, he . . .
“Seven!” I hear Raiden shout as Gus drops his wind spike and backs away, like he can actually see his father’s blood on it.
“What did the prisoner look like?” I ask Audra.
“He had a hood over his face. But he had a Gale Force uniform on and Raiden said the Stormers just captured him today—and that he put up a fight and delayed them.”