Looking down at his grandfather with that same dead stare he had since he became like this.

  "Stop struggling, old man; you might be powerful, but everyone needs to breathe," he said, his voice completely detached from any emotion, like he wasn't, and in a way he wasn't.

  he managed to croak out as he collapsed to the ground, passed out.

  "Because it's your fault," he said as his eyes narrowed and teeth clenched for a brief second before it faded away like...well, you know.

  Looking at his grandfather on the ground for half a second longer, he turned to Gabbie and the detective. The detective curled up in a ball-like shape over Gabbie. He was barely breathing and was badly burned on every inch of the side that was facing the heat and had what seemed to be a spike driven into his back, piercing through him.

  Gabbie lay under him, her arms lightly burned but otherwise mostly unharmed.

  Eyes flickering to the pool of blood spreading around them, his eyes flickered back to her before asking.

  "Is that blood his or yours?"

  "What do you—" she was about to start only to be cut off.

  "Answer the question and don't ask me any."

  "Is that his blood or yours?" he repeated. "If you don't answer me, you're going to make orphans out of Julius and your partners' kids."

  Hearing these words, their images flooded her mind like a wave, but still she hesitated.

  Still calm, he continued. There is no one here to save you or your partner. Your people are mostly likely all dead, killed by my grandfather on his way in."

  So answer...

  As the words left his mouth, Gabbie was reminded of a conversation she had with Lily.

  It was a sunny afternoon, and they were lounging on the balcony with tea and macarons that she liked because neither of them could stand the taste of that fancy crap that was normally in Lily's house for appearances.

  "If it meant you could save someone you cared about, would you make a deal with the devil?" Lily asked her.

  "That's an odd question for a 'Would you rather?' ;

  "Just answer the question," Lily said while rolling her eyes but still seeming genuinely interested in her answer.

  "No," she answered almost casually.

  "Why?" She asked, seeming more interested now.

  "I don't know; I don't think my pride would let me," she answered plainly while feeling weird about the question, like she didn't give the right answer.

  "What about you?" she asked, shooting the question back at her.

  Smiling, a warm smile, Lily replied, "In a heartbeat. I'd make the deal in a heartbeat if it meant saving someone."

  Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

  Looking at her friend in awe for a second, she forced a smile before playfully punching her in the shoulder. "Of course you would, you selfless idiot, but I'll be there to make sure you never put yourself in that situation."

  For a second Lily just responded with a cold look that wasn't hostile but just empty, a look that she couldn't quite place before that familiar smile and glint in her ruby eyes returned to her face.

  As her memory faded, Lily's face was replaced with Riven's, who was staring at her with what was basically a blank void in place of a face.

  And in that moment, only one thing went through her mind: "I

  Swallowing what's left of her pride she said meekly:

  "My legs—I can't feel my legs. And I'm lightheaded. I think I'm losing a lot of blood."

  "Then it's yours," Riven muttered. "The spike must have pierced your back but not sealed the wound; it closed like it did for the detective."

  Gabbie Riven started. "Get ready; I'm about to move you."

  "No, I'll bleed out faster," she said as her eyelids got heavier.

  "I won't tell you to trust me, but the fact that you're bleeding out so quickly means the spike in your back is doing little to nothing to seal your wound.

  "So I'll use condensed smoke to temporarily seal the wound."

  Looking at her half-lidded eyes and her doing all she could to stay awake despite her doubt in the idea, she didn't have the strength to protest.

  "Okay, get ready; this is going to hurt," he said, but what he said fell on deaf ears because Gabbie's hearing was all but gone as she fought to stay awake, afraid if she went to sleep she wouldn't wake again.

  Seeing he was running out of time, his fingertips unfurled thin tendrils of dark smoke that coiled around the detective like wires.

  Fully wrapping around him, he gently lifted and separated the two of them, the spike sliding free of her lower back with a slicking sound.

  Instantly the blood started pouring from her faster, no longer being partially sealed, but before too much blood could seep out, the smoke wires turned to face Gabbie.

  Before condensing into a glossy, obsidian-colored seal that pressed over her wound, keeping any more blood from leaking out and, consequently, numbing the raw nerves.

  "Are you still with me?" Riven asked, his tone never changing.

  "Yes," she said poorly because she was starting to lose feeling in her tongue.

  "Good," he said before broader veils of smoke rose and enveloped them both in a subtle gesture of his hands, creating distinct cocoons of swirling ash and smog.

  Inside she instinctively held her breath as anyone would do when surrounded by smoke, but then she heard.

  "You can breathe; I lowered the smoke concentration inside so it would be more like mist."

  Taking in a breath because her body could no longer manage to hold one in her state, she was shocked to see he was telling the truth; the smoke wasn't thick or ashy or suffocating, it was more akin to mist on a spring morning

  Attaching the human-sized pods to his wrist, like overly long handcuffs they use for especially dangerous prisoners when they are being transported.

  Slowly levitating them above the ground. He walked over his grandfather and the crater he made. Strolling slowly through the dilapidated police department. The only sound in the corridors was the crunch of glass and metal beneath his slides.

  The walls were left with nothing but permanent shadows—long silhouettes of officers caught mid-scream, arms raised in futile defense against a cruel sun. It was a horror show of dark images burned into the plaster like terrifying photographic negatives.

  Gabbie could barely see, her vision blurring along with being half-lidded in her tired state, but she smelt ash and the smell of burning metal, wood, and other materials, but no bodies, which gave her drained and weary brain a small hope the other made it out or survived somehow.

  Stepping out of the building, he was greeted by the warm night air, the city lights, and a crowd that had gathered, probably after hearing all the explosions.

  Stopping, he looked at them—women, men, and children all gathered around, all with phones in hand recording or calling the authorities.

  Looking at them for only a second before letting out a breath. He gazed up at the open, starless sky, its beautiful lights being drowned out by the cities.

  Taking another breath in a sudden rush of smoke, he shot out his shoulder blades, forming enormous, storm-black wings that were wide enough for the building behind him to be completely eclipsed.

  Before, with a flap of his wings, he rocketed off the ground, knocking the crowd over as they were hit with hurricane winds.

  He rose silently and quickly with a single powerful beat, the two cocoons following him like tethered specters. He ascended farther into the chilly darkness; he stopped for a second as he looked at the now visible starry sky.

  "Beautiful," he thought for a second before rocketing away to a family friend.