Chapter 54 - Sam

Sam’s heart stopped for what felt like an eternity as she watched Bruce tackle Veridan, a twitching Jacob sandwiched in the middle. As if in slow motion, they flew through the air, but right before they smacked the floor, Bruce pushed Jacob off to the side.

Brooke, who had been huddled in a corner ever since she pulled Sam into the kitchen with the excuse of needing to talk, screamed at the top of her lungs.

Jacob rolled away from the scrap, struck the bottom of the back cabinets and went limp. The electrifying energy that had been coursing through his body stopped, but he showed no signs of life.

“Jacob!” Sam started toward the limp boy, but Greg wrapped an arm around her waist and held her back. “Let me check on him.” Her hands reached out as she begged.

“Stay back,” Greg ordered in a commanding voice that nearly made her cower away from him. “Run!” He pushed her away toward the double doors behind him. She staggered back, arms windmilling for balance.

“What’s going on here?” Nadine asked, pushing through the door.

Sam’s back smacked against the cook who caught her and helped her regain her balance.

“Oh, Fates!” Nadine exclaimed when she caught a glimpse of the ongoing battle. “Not in my kitchen.”

Sam peered back toward the door, Greg’s command to run echoing in her ears. She knew she should listen and get out of there, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t save herself and leave everyone else behind.

She just couldn’t.

Instead, she rushed to Brooke’s side just as a series of loud clanks sounded behind her. She dared not look.

“Brooke!” Sam shook her until her terrified gaze snapped to attention. “You two, leave! Now!” She pushed her toward Nadine and issued the command once more. As they ran out of the kitchen, Sam turned, her heart guarding itself against what she might find.

The pot rack had come lose from the ceiling and had fallen on top of Greg. He was on one knee with an arm over his head, holding the rack at bay. Skillets lay strewn all around him. He stood, flung his arm to the side and sent the rack flying across the stove.

In front of him, Veridan was still under Bruce. Both were immobile, not a hint of struggle between them. Greg stood watching them as still as they were. Sam took a step closer, her eyes unblinking and fixed on the two men.

Then Veridan kicked his magic-charged arms and legs and Bruce sailed straight upward. He hit the drop ceiling, then plummeted down and landed on the floor with bone-crushing force.

Sam watched in horror as Jacob, who had come to and was sitting in a daze with his back pressed against the cabinets, reached a hand toward his father.

“Daddy?” he said in a tremulous voice. He crawled, arms and legs shaking and pressed a small hand to his father’s face. “Daddy?” he repeated, this time louder.

Bruce was still, his open, fixed eyes staring into nothingness. Sam stifled a cry for the boy’s sake, but in her mind she heard her own voice, raw and frantic, roaring at the injustice. Jacob couldn’t lose his father—not now that he had him back.

“You fucking monster.” Greg’s clenched fists were stiff at his sides, trembling with pent up energy.

He jumped forward, arms outstretched to catch Veridan, but the Sorcerer was faster. He hopped out of the way in a blur of movement, a hand tight around his talisman. Like a dashing shadow, he stepped back, then sideways until he was behind Jacob again.

The boy’s face was buried in his father’s neck as he wailed like a newborn.

“Get away from him!” Sam yelled, looking around for something to use as a weapon. A magnetic strip attached to the wall caught her eye. It held in place several knives in different shapes and sizes. She snatched the biggest one. As useless as it seemed, it was better than nothing. When she turned back, the Sorcerer had Jacob back in his clutches.

“Back where we started?” Veridan said. “Although, in truth, worse off.” He cast a disdainful glace down at Bruce’s inert body. “Do you still doubt I will kill the boy?” Veridan’s gaze darted to the back door. He edged his way in that direction.

Jacob struggled, his small hands reaching toward Bruce, his legs stiff and trailing behind him as Veridan pulled him along.

I can’t let him take Jacob. Do something!

But what? What could she do? She was useless, her power and even Greg’s were nothing against this threat. They couldn’t act and risk Jacob’s loss. Still, their hesitation had already cost Bruce his life.

No, not their hesitation, hers. Veridan wanted her. No one else.

Sam shook her head. That was also a lie. If she did as Veridan wanted and went with him, she would be putting more than her own life at risk. The Sorcerer might kill her on the spot, but she doubted that was his plan. More likely, he would bring her to Danata. Then Greg would become a victim, too. Or more precisely: a casualty. Judging by past experience, they would not turn out like Bruce or Elizabeth.

What then? What?!

“I’ll go with you!” Sam shouted, feeling her head near the point of explosion. She took a few steps forward.

“No, stay back,” Greg ordered her. “You can’t trust him.”

“Come and I will let the boy go. I promise.” Veridan had moved further back and was now pushing the door open with his back.

Sam gave a Greg a desperate look. “We have to do something,” her eyes said. He nodded, understanding her better than anyone ever could. Sam barely had time to register his assent when, in his act-first-ask-questions-later fashion, he threw his hands in Veridan’s direction and discharged a blue bolt of energy that zapped across the air at the speed of a bullet. The bolt exploded across the Sorcerer’s chest, clearing Jacob’s head by mere inches.

Veridan flew past the door and slammed, back first, against the wall in the narrow hall outside the kitchen. He slid down and crumpled to the floor, legs sprawled and holding the door open.

Free from the evil Sorcerer’s clutches, Jacob, face wet with tears, ran to Sam, crashing against her and burying his face in her t-shirt.

She wrapped the boy in a tight embrace. “Jacob.” He felt solid and safe in her arms, but her heart kept racing, her brain screaming that something was amiss. What little relief she’d felt slipped away before it became whole.

Something’s wrong.

Her head shot up. Greg was making his way to the back door where Veridan had collapsed.

“Greg, don’t!” Sam said, but he didn’t stop right away. Instead, he took another step forward, put a hand up to acknowledge her.

Then Sam felt a cold tug against her very soul and anything else she might have said died in her throat.

She knew what was coming an instant before Danata stepped from behind the wall and into the threshold right in front of her now-smiling Sorcerer.

The Regent’s hands were fisted and held high up above her head. Sam didn’t have to use her skills to know what was between Danata’s fingers. She had felt the tug on her vinculum as the vile Ripper had taken hold of it.

In the instantaneous rush of her thoughts, Sam realized that all of this—holding Jacob hostage, killing Bruce—had been a mere distraction. Greg had sensed the danger, but he’d thought it originated from Veridan, when all along Danata had been hiding past that door, ready to offer the killing blow.

“I have you now,” Danata said with relish, then yanked her hands apart in one violent motion, giving Sam’s untried instincts no more than a split second to protect them, to safeguard what little she could.

Standing in a victorious pose, the Regent held her hands up in the air, well apart from each other. She cackled with her head thrown back.

Sam blinked at the sight, then, as if in a macabre, synchronized dance, she and Greg fell to their knees. They wobbled for a moment, heads slumping forward. Finally, they fell face first to the floor and lost all knowledge of themselves.