“So they’re not going to want to kill me,” Daniel said. Leon’s hand jerked around his, tightening with a convulsion. “We can use that. Maybe.”
“How?” Leon said. “Let’s just keep going. If we keep running long enough-”
“That mage was talking about...I don’t know, exactly,” Daniel said. “But he was looking for us. And the other asshole-”
“Kevin,” Olivia mumbled.
“I don’t care,” Daniel said, glaring at her. She shut up. “He was saying something about...infrared. Can he see heat, or something? Is that a thing?” He shifted from foot to foot, chewing on an idea. “And if we can…Can we use that to draw him in?”
Leon spun away from Daniel. “James. Did they take your lighter?”
James’ expression twisted, turning secretive—and guilty. “L-Lighter? I don’t know what you’re-”
“I know you’ve been stealing out back to smoke,” Leon hissed. “I don’t care, man. Just-”
“I dunno,” James muttered. He dug through his pocket, though—and his eyes lit up. When he pulled out the tiny cylinder of plastic, Leon snatched it away from him.
“What are you doing?” Daniel whispered, crouching down beside him. “We have to go. Any minute now, they’ll-”
“If he can see heat, then we’ll leave some behind.” Leon flicked the lighter on, lifting his head long enough to cast a wary look around before holding the flame into the dead, dried grasses around the windmill’s base.
They caught with a puff of smoke. Daniel shivered, fighting the urge to stomp the flames out.
“It won’t look like a person,” Leon said, an apologetic note in his voice. “Just...heat. A lot of it.”
“It’s something,” Daniel said, patting his shoulder. “It doesn’t have to hold for long.”
That was all they needed, he told himself. Just a distraction. “Let’s get out of here,” he murmured, stealing another look around. He could hear voices—more than before, which was not filling him with confidence. Their enemies had been talking. They’d been waiting for someone. Reinforcements, he had to assume.
And they really, really didn’t need for the enemy to find a whole set of new allies.
“Stay out of sight of the building,” was all he said as they darted away from the tiny fire. The tang of smoke faded almost instantly, carried away on the breeze. Maybe that was a good thing. Maybe it’d keep Indira’s goons from realizing what game was being played.
Probably not. But he could hope.
A half-wall of stone waited around the next path, holding up a landscaped section of dead leaves that had probably been flowers at one point. Olivia dropped down alongside it, with James all but falling after her. He still had the gun—and the look in his eyes was stormy enough that Daniel halfway hoped their enemies just left.
From their position, they could still see the windmill, along with the fire at its base. It grew steadily, feeding off the dead foliage and climbing toward the abandoned decoration.
Daniel’s senses prickled, straining for anything. A hint. A sign that they’d been made.
Nothing—just the wind, and the crackling of the flames growing larger, and a distant murmur that might have been voices.
“Where are they?” he said at last, his pulse racing. “Are they- Are they just going to wait?”
“Fine with me,” Leon muttered. “They can wait right until this whole fucking shield-thing dies. And then-”
“Quiet!” Olivia hissed, pulling James lower.
Daniel saw it too—a whisper of movement from behind two shockingly-alive pine trees. “There,” he murmured, pointing. “They’re right there.”
“I got ‘em,” James mumbled, a feral light appearing in his eyes. He raised his pistol.
Leon pulled free of Daniel, grabbing hold of him and James in the same motion. “Come on!” he breathed. “We know where they are. Let’s-Let’s just get out of here.”
Let’s get around them, Daniel could hear him saying, the words lost in the rush of adrenaline clearly pumping through his friend. Let’s surprise them. Leon’s normally-smooth, brassy hair was in disarray, his face flushed. A sheen of sweat across his skin belied his panic.
It was a good plan. So he nodded, creeping back, and inched around the side of their landscaping shield.
With every step he took, the others came into view. The bloodstained mage limped along behind his companion, his face pale and his arm around a third man’s shoulder. And at the back-
Daniel smiled, relief washing through him. At the back walked a man he very much recognized. He’d etched his face into his memories, in fact. Cyril. The mage keeping this barrier going. If he was here, then they had a chance of ending this.
With hands that shook, he reached for James. He didn’t dare speak, not with Indira’s people were this close. When James looked up, his eyes unfocused, Daniel just jabbed a finger toward Cyril. Him, he mouthed. Shoot. Him.
James’ eyes focused, then, something like unease glimmering in their depths. Daniel’s smile twisted. Not so easy, is it?
He might have been bruised and battered, but James crouched low, bringing the pistol up with a steadiness Daniel envied. They were still following after the fire mage, with those trees between them and the windmill. But at any minute, the mages would round the corner, and the whole truth would be laid bare. Now. They had to act now.
Daniel nodded grimly. “James,” he whispered, as softly as he could. “Go ahead and-”
“Behind!” someone roared—a distant voice. Daniel whirled, catching sight of the gun-toting figure now standing tall from atop the building’s roof. That rifle was in his hand—and pointed right at Daniel’s-
Something in him screamed, something old and deep that resonated to the very core of his being. It pushed him and he moved, dropping like a rock.
Splinters of stone shattered down across the back of his head as a bullet pulverized the rock he’d been peeking out from behind mere moments before. Daniel gasped, freezing.
James didn’t freeze. Daniel’s ears rang with the force of his pistol’s reports, squeezing off shot after shot.
And Daniel heard someone scream.
James did it, his thoughts sang. He
