Page 34 of The Curse Trilogy

More wails burst out from our night attackers when another vehicle crashes into me. This time I grab the man in the driver’s seat and launch him into the window of another car to take out their driver. My gun runs out of bullets, and suddenly Hale is beside me handing me a fresh litter of ammunition.

“You need a vest,” I scold.

“You didn’t give me any fucking time to put one on,” he scoffs.

I smirk a little, and then I jump in front of him as a launched missile nearly impacts him. It shatters explosively against my hand, and the dress I’m wearing suffers more than my unscathed flesh.

The bombs keep breaching the walls, and I can’t give them anymore time to keep attacking. The power starts growing inside me, and I turn to Hale.

“Get the fuck out of here, now,” I command.

“Damn it. Don’t do it. You’ll be out here without any fucking protection if you do it. You can only use one gift at a time,” he screams.

“Go,” I blare, and then I feel the roaring engines screaming into the air as they lift into the sky.

More crunching bones and exploding glass rattle the air as I release them to fall from their impossibly high drop. They all begin rushing toward me when the live ones break free.

These assholes definitely aren’t human.

I feel the first tear of a bullet slicing into me, and I grimace before sending a wave of them back toward the buzzing bastards. Blood scatters across the ground and me as the body count begins piling up, but I can’t control the exploding power that always follows the floorshow. It’s building and building, and I know this is going to fucking hurt so bad.

I scream as the power exudes from me, and the stray bullets are released from my freezing hold to continue on their paths. The sickening sound of my own flesh tearing sticks in my ears. More of my blood flows free from the piercing shards whistling through the air and ravaging my body. The pain is excruciating as the uranium bleeds into my blood, and the explosion from my body waves through the air to shred the cars and men to pieces, flesh peeling from their bones as easily as the paint peels from the side of the wall.

I scream again as the pain forces the power to be stronger, my survival instincts taking over. I dig up the ground as the waves of the air burst open and knock me to my back with a terrible thudding bounce. I hear the echoes of voices as shadows race through the flames of my disaster, and I’m almost scared I missed some.

I sure as hell don’t have anything left.

“Araya!” Hale screams.

I climb to my feet and stagger slightly when my dizziness sets in far too heavily to keep my balance.

“I’m okay,” I say to the encroaching shadow.

“Fuck. How the hell did you keep it away from the compound?” he gasps, and his arm wraps around me for support.

I wince, but I do so discreetly. He can’t see me yet, and I don’t want him to know how badly I’ve been hit.

“I don’t know. It just worked right for once. It’s not like I was actually controlling it. Believe me, I wish I knew how to,” I exasperate while doing my best to play down my excruciating pain.

He keeps his arm gripped to my waist, and I can’t bear to tell him how painful his grasp is right now. I can taste my blood pooling in my mouth, thankful the dark sky is hiding the horrific mess I know I am.

“What’s the count?” Hale yells to a guy near the entrance when we make it back.

“Fifteen humans dead and thirty-four injured. Twelve full bloods dead and sixty injured. Three hybrids dead and seventy-five injured - but most of the injuries are almost fatal, Sir. That’s not counting her,” he murmurs softly as he stares at my limping posture hidden under the pitch black sky.

“How bad is it?” he asks.

I can feel the blood running down my leg, but I don’t want him to know right now. He’s got enough shit to worry about, and I can find some blood when we get a damn minute.

“I’m fine,” I strain out. “I’ve had worse.”

“The blood bank is under lockdown for twenty-four hours due to the explosions rupturing its stability. The vault has sealed, Sir.”

Damn it. Now what?

“Fuck,” Hale says with heavy worry.

“How much do we have on hand?” he asks the guy.