Loken slammed his metal-covered fist into the glass again.
When he got out of here, he was going to . . . he was going to . . . probably shout at Asha until she lost her temper. And then kiss her until the world ended. Frustrating woman!
He slammed his fist against the glass again. This time a small crack appeared where he hit it. It teased him—just enough to tell him he had a shot of getting out of here, but not nearly enough to warrant celebration.
Sweat prickled at his forehead. He used to be able to hold metal all over his body for an hour straight. Now, twenty minutes with just his hand metal-clad, and his body begged to shut down.
He’d tried waving his arms and jumping up and down in view of the camera that hung from the basement ceiling. But his friend who’d reduced security for his night with Asha had done his job too well. Loken suspected the cameras remained off, and his friend had long since gone to wherever he’d chosen to spend his final minutes. Expecting anyone to come and let him out was not an option.
Loken slammed his fist into the glass again. This time, the crack spiderwebbed outward. His heart leapt. He redoubled his efforts, melding the metal threads of his skin across his other fist as well, and then slamming repeatedly, one fist at time into the glass. Each impact caused the crack to spread farther outward.
A grin stretched at his cheeks. Not even shatterproof, metal-less glass could hold him.
A small piece at the center of his impacts popped out of the glass wall and fell to the floor. With the next hit, more pieces tinkled to the floor. After a few more hits, he’d produced a hole the size of his head.
Loken closed his eyes and concentrated. He liquefied the metal threads weaved into his skin, letting the metal creep over his body until it encased him. He trembled violently with the effort.
He threw himself at the glass. It sprayed outward as he leapt through it. He was out! The metal receded from most of his skin, back into the tattooed pattern.
Loken shot up the stairs, authenticated himself to the security panel at the basement door, and raced through the hallway. Shouts assaulted his ears as he ran. The ground rumbled. It shook and rolled beneath Loken’s feet, tossing him sideways. His shoulder slammed into the wall.
He stopped to steady himself, leaning next to the double glass doors that led to outside. The rumbling stopped. The volume of the shouts rose. Before he could take off again, Loken caught a glimpse of the back lawn through the door.
A crack had split the ground, running from the Council building to the back fence. At the edge of the broken earth lay three bodies, still and bloody. Another body lay farther away, near the fence. The closest corpse had taken a sword to the neck and had been nearly decapitated. A mere flap of flesh kept the body attached to the head—a head with a long blond braid.
Elder Ethereal?
Bile threatened to crawl up his throat. Loken swallowed it down.
Standing over her body, Elder Kohler glanced up and caught Loken’s eye. Kohler waved Loken toward him. Loken shook his head and shuffled away from the door. He needed to be somewhere else right now. He’d already wasted too much time.
Kohler’s mouth moved. But from this far away, and with his torn voice, Loken couldn’t make out the words. Kohler tapped Elder Bender on the shoulder and gestured toward Loken.
“Three elders are dead.” Elder Bender’s deep voice drifted through the glass doors. “We can’t perform the ritual. We need to devise a new plan.”
Loken’s mind raced. They did need a new plan. He had a plan already—one that had just become more urgent. If Asha died, he wouldn’t get a second chance to save her. No rewind ritual meant no second chances.
Without a backward glance, Loken spun away from the door and tore down the hallway. He leaned on the elevator button to the transport holding bay until the doors opened. There had better be a Breather waiting down there for emergency travel.
Asha would have followed one of the three practitioner groups to their assigned waiting area. The Mages would come for Asha. There were three places she could be, and not enough time to check all of them.