Page 35 of Enchanted Hero (The Secret Enchanters #1)

H e was trapped.

Caught between a man’s life and all-but-certain exposure, his decision would forge the future.

It was unlikely the agitator would actually jump, thus Alexander had planned to wait for emergency personnel unless matters became dire. Yet what started as a scheme to expose the truth had already turned perilous as the man’s balance wavered. He didn’t have a choice.

He had to save him.

He couldn’t avoid suspicion, but perhaps he could avoid exposure. He turned to Everleigh, Andrews and Garrison, who were all watching him with undisguised interest. “I’m going to help.”

“Help?” Agent Andrews’ eyes sharpened. “How?”

“What could you possibly do?” Garrison lifted his glasses higher. “Emergency personnel do this for a living. What can you do that they can’t?”

A whole lot. “I own the building. I can tell them the best way to reach him.” It was a paltry excuse, yet he hadn’t time to formulate a better one as the man teetered again. “I have to go. Now.”

Agent Andrews looked ready to protest more, but he glanced at the endangered man, and his gaze hardened. “We’ll go with you. We can get you past the police.”

And watch every move he made, no doubt. Yet he couldn’t argue, and he certainly couldn’t disappear in front of them.

As they jogged down the stage to the building, Alexander increased his speed to an all-out run, and beyond .

The Incantare were physically superior to ordinary humans, yet usually he hid his abilities.

Now he had no choice but to use his true power.

Darting in between people at dizzying speed, he ignored calls to slow down, sprinting ahead until the officials disappeared in the sea of people.

He leapt into an empty alleyway, and in a flash of diamond mist, teleported.

He held his breath as he appeared in the back stairwell just under the roof, but thankfully only empty space greeted him.

Another sprinkling of mist, and he donned the same full black pants, shirt and mask as before, his only protection from the countless cameras already pointed at the building.

Forming a bag to allow him to conjure hidden tools, he hurdled up the stairs and burst onto the roof.

Up above, helicopters bellowed, splintering the sky with their thunderous blades.

The conspiracy theorist wobbled a few stories below, unsteady and panicked as rescuers leaned out windows, urging him back.

A fireman tested the ledge with his foot but shook his head.

The decorative piece would not support two men.

It might not hold one for much longer.

But it could hold him, or at least give the appearance of such, if he flew with his feet touching it so it looked like he was walking.

He took a step as the helicopters thundered closer, swore as news cameras turned from the man to him.

He’d been spotted. Time to give another show, hopefully one that wouldn’t end with a revealing final act.

He conjured a thick rope into his bag. He pulled it out, then tied one end around a pipe at the edge of the roof, cinching it four times. Clutching the other, he balanced at the ledge with his back to the ground. Focusing his strength, he began his descent.

He forced himself to move slowly, inching down the wall, forgoing his enchantment entirely.

The man’s life was already saved – if the ledge broke, he could teleport him to safety in an instant.

Of course, that would mean total and irreversible exposure.

As the rope trembled, he used his power to boost him slightly, hoping those watching – and those who analyzed the video for days to come – wouldn’t notice.

Finally, he reached the ledge, a few feet away from the man. Now he used his magic entirely, putting no weight on the already beleaguered shelf. The man stared, his expression transforming from fear to triumph in an instant. “Are you him?” he breathed.

No doubt the millions watching on television already knew the answer.

“I’m going to help you to the window,” Alexander called. “Are you ready?”

Timothy nodded. Holding the rope tight with one hand, Alexander pretended to walk along the ledge, yet before he could reach him…

crack. It was light, small and a harbinger .

A spider web of cracks formed, as the decorative piece fractured in slow motion, crumbling at the sides, shrinking as portions surrendered to gravity. Then…

It shattered.

It was the nightmare scenario. Clutching the rope with a single hand, Alexander pushed forward with both magic and brute strength, grasping for the swaying man.

For a horrifying second, he couldn’t get a hold, then he caught a fistful of t-shirt.

They slammed against the wall, suspended by the taut rope, like two fish dangling at the end of a fishing hook.

A thousand gasps rang from down below, still Alexander forwent his magic, for every move would be picked apart by scientists, computer experts and a virtual audience of millions.

Tightening his muscles, he pulled the man higher, then higher still, until he could wrap the rope around his torso, knotting a makeshift harness.

More shouting sounded as dozens of emergency personnel leaned over the roof.

Multiple firemen held his rope. “We’re going to pull you up! ”

Alexander turned back at the window, where’d he’d originally planned to hoist Timothy before returning to the roof to teleport. But the ledge was now gone, and the roof was crowded with people.

It had been his only escape.

But he didn’t have a choice now, as Timothy and he rose, their destination dozens of people and total exposure . “We’ve almost got them!” Excited chatter sounded from above, now only a single story away. Crowds of people swarmed – firemen, police officers, men in black suits.

“Who is he?” one cried.

“We’ll find out soon!” said another.

His options dwindled like the remaining inches of rope.

If he reached the roof, there would be no escape unless he teleported in front of the world.

He whipped his head around, scanning the surroundings for something – anything – that could give hope.

Windows lined the building, some with people, but others empty.

If he could find a way into one of the unoccupied rooms, he might have a chance to teleport before anyone saw him.

Unfortunately, none of the rooms were close enough. Unless…

Heavy white piping led along the side of the building.

There was no way it would hold his weight without enchantment, yet hopefully they wouldn’t know that.

“We’re bringing you over,” a fireman shouted from the top.

The rescuers grabbed Timothy, taking the weight and danger, at least for him. This was his chance.

Alexander let go of the rope.

Screams of horror boomed as he grabbed the pipe. He wrapped his fingers around it, pretending to clutch it, as he used his powers to hold him up. There was no need to feign urgency. Exposure threatened everything.

“Hang on! We’re coming for you!” As the rescuers donned harnesses, Alexander moved quickly. He used the pipe as a makeshift monkey bar, swinging to the nearest window. He landed closer than he dared hope, exhaled in relief until… two men appeared.

Agent Andrews and Dr. Garrison.

Where had they come from? What had they seen? Alexander locked eyes with Andrews, then with Garrison. Questions burned, then familiarity .

Did they recognize him?

Agent Andrews held out his arms. “Jump!” he commanded.

“Hurry!” Dr. Garrison cried. “The pipe won’t hold for long!”

The firemen were directly behind him, secure in their harnesses.

Next to Andrews and Garrison, the room was rapidly filling with people, some with guns and others with something just as dangerous – tranquilizers.

He would recover from both, but not rapidly enough to avoid capture. They were boxing him into the window.

Now his life really was in danger.

He was surrounded. On both sides, from the top. But not from the bottom. There was another ledge, another window. No one appeared to be in the room, but that didn’t mean it was empty. It didn’t matter – it was his only chance.

Just as Andrews reached for him, Alexander swung down. Hands clawed at him, grasping his clothing as he slid past. He reached the ledge below, miscalculated and accidentally put weight on it. It was more than it could take. With a loud cracking, the ground beneath him disappeared.

Survival instincts took over. Alexander called his enchantment, and diamond mist swirled around him. For a second, he was suspended in air, held only by the mist of his power. In the next second, he flung himself into the room.

Alexander spun, poised for the audience that could doom him, yet the room was empty. Relief flooded him, vanishing as footsteps pounded in the halls. “He’s in there!”

Only moments remained! He needed to get somewhere safe, somewhere in the building where no one would be – hopefully. Once more, he called his power. As the room melted away, the door opened. The people looked all around, then froze, looking straight at him.

Had they seen him teleport?

* * * *

Everleigh sank into a plush velvet chair, engulfed by cushions as thick as the uncertainty in the air.

Everything was lavish in the private office, from the oversized damask couches to the rich carpeting to the cherry wood furnishings.

Expensive paintings lined the walls, and silvery sculptures stood on marble pedestals.

She’d never seen such an extraordinary office, but Alexander Stone was an extraordinary man.

She’d hoped to find him here after he disappeared into the crowd, yet the office had been empty. Security hadn’t questioned her, merely exchanged a strangely satisfied glance as they granted her entrance to the locked room. Yet he wasn’t here, and neither were answers.