Molly

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I’m running toward the house fast as I can. Will I be fast enough? Phelan snarls and snaps his teeth at the girl, but he shocks us both by stalking past her, moving toward the basement door instead of ripping her to shreds. The mission means sweet fuck all to him now. Extracting her is irrelevant. She isn’t his target.

She stupidly follows him. Whatever’s in the basement is worth more than her own life. Has she bonded so closely with Brody in such a short time? Bet her boyfriend isn’t a fan of that.

By the time I reach them, Sheyla’s making her way into an opening in the center of the basement floor. Her friends have built her a place to hide. A safe room. No, it isn’t a safe room. It’s a bomb shelter meant to keep her contained in the event of a nuclear meltdown.

She wasn’t lying when she said she didn’t want to hurt anyone. She doesn’t want to transition as a result. That resistance is rare. Even I didn’t fight my conversion. I simply accepted it and carried on. Sheyla has no intention of doing the same. She’ll fight it to the very end, then at the end she’ll ensure only she’s hurt in the process.

“That hole.” Seán points to the giant hole in the concrete basement wall.

“That hole means the blast missed someone,” I offer, having just realized he followed me inside.

From my elevated position, I watch as Phelan knocks the ladder from the bomb shelter wall as Sheyla’s trying to climb down. She falls onto the hard, steel floor below, knocking her head against the door release lever as she goes. Fuck Jill, that tumble was a real bitch. The hatch starts to move, so Seán and I jump through before we get sectioned off from the group. We land next to Sheyla on the floor. There’s blood dripping from her head, trailing to her cheek. For the first time, I’m not consumed by bloodlust. I’m scared what’ll happen to her.

“Not a hair on her head,” I hiss. “That was the order.”

Phelan can’t respond, and I reckon he wouldn’t even if he could. I see what his target is. Secondary target became primary. His hatred of Brody is far stronger than his desire to follow orders. That’s clear from the blood pooling in Sheyla’s left eye. He must’ve smelled him once he got inside the house.

Bright side, in order to fit through the opening, he needed his human skin. At least we aren’t fighting the beast. Would you look at that? Me, Molly of perpetual darkness, found a bright side! And a literal bright side. Fuck me, the girl’s mother isn’t a Sumair at all. She’s rainbow lighting the shit out of the bomb shelter. She’s a Solathair. Brody’s standing protectively in front of her and the father, who are both cowering on the bed. While he wants to help Sheyla, he won’t budge if it means compromising her parents. That was the precious cargo prompting Sheyla to follow. It wasn’t Brody. It was her parents.

I feel a hum of electricity growing from Brody, and it confuses me all to fuck. What did that bitch do to him? We aren’t in a position where I can ask him, but that shit is not fucking normal. He’s never been capable of anything like that before. The tension in the room is intolerable. How long can the smothering silence remain? Who’s chomping whose head off first?

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Sheyla tries to stand, but she can’t. I notice her thigh. Yeah, there’s a bone breaking through the skin. I wince for her. I’ve had my share of protrusions. They heal quickly, though they hurt all the same.

Seán’s behind her. She’s obviously intimidated by his proximity. He’s a little scary, in retrospect, with his grizzly-bearded face and dark, angry eyes. He looks to me for permission to do basic first aid (for us). I nod my approval. He gets a two handed hold on her leg for stability and stomps on her thigh with his combat boot, resetting the bone.

Weirdly, Sheyla doesn’t scream. It’s the mother who does, bringing our attention back to them, just as Phelan launches himself at Brody. Brody releases an electrical pulse deflecting the brunt of the blow, but Phelan still manages to knock him away from the bed. Connor throws four stones on the steel floor—departure stones. He’s preparing our getaway.

Sheyla’s trying to stand again, while Seán’s holding her down with his bulky palms, burying his fingers in her shoulders deeper every time she tries to change position. I reckon it’s hard for him to be so close to her. I remember my first encounter with a Solathair in transition after I converted into a Sumair. Didn’t end well for Butterfly Brunch. He’s exhibiting amazing willpower, to be fair.

“You’re hurting her, Seán,” I bark, so he eases up.

“This is too much,” Seán whines, his voice vibrating with emotion. “It’s gone too far.”

I suck in a steadying breath.

“We can’t go back,” he mutters. “We can’t let them take them.”

“I know.”

He’s right. It’s gone too far. It’s time to choose the better side. I move to where Connor’s positioning the stones. Dipshit’s not giving up the mission. He stands his ground, shoving me back with full force. I land against Seán, who falls on top of Sheyla. Defector dominos, for fuck’s sake. Lame game.

The kaleidoscopic glory of Sheelin’s transit illuminates the small space as Connor grabs the girl’s mother right out of her father’s hands. She’s kicking and screaming to no avail, while Connor holds her firm inside the circle.

“Phelan, come on,” he hollers. “We’ll get Sheyla later.”

“Please, Connor,” I beg him. “Stop this.”

This clusterfuck should be the other way around. He’s the epitome of empathy. But is Connor leading the revolt? Hard fucking no. He’s glaring at me, his eyes cold as ice. My brother, my blood, has chosen the side opposite the one I’m standing on. I won’t fight him, yet I can’t go with him. Not this time. Maybe never again.

I stand guard with Seán. While they snagged the mother, they aren’t getting the daughter. Who goes and who stays isn’t of any concern to Berserker Phelan. The only thing mattering to him is finishing the one thing he came to do. Kill Brody.

The electrical current coming from Brody is making my hair stand on end. Fucker’s about to blow a fuse, and worse, he knows it. He wants to overload his circuits. He’s happy to use the full extent of his powers to decimate Phelan if it means protecting Sheyla. He’s holding off for the fatal blow. He makes eye contact with her when it happens. Then he smiles. That smile rips open my heart inside my chest, slamming it back together again and forcing it to beat.

He releases an electrical surge through Phelan just as Phelan tears through his neck, from one side right to the other, with his bare hands. A discharge cloud creates a haze around them. As it’s dying down, the flashing transit lights bounce off the four steel walls, disappearing as Connor escapes with the mother. He abandoned us.

Where Brody and Phelan were fighting, two departure stones lay in their place. My team. My friends. My brother. They’re gone. I’m beyond fucked up. Sheyla isn’t handling things well either. In fact, her skin is starting to smoke. Honestly, she smells a bit like BBQ chicken. Ryan opens the hatch just as Sheyla catches fire. “Put her out!” he bellows.

Seán releases the fire extinguisher on her.