While Wolf pinned her to the ground, Cinder was working her way around Sybil’s gift. Becoming intimately acquainted with how the energy rippled along her limbs and fingers. How it was so different from the way that same energy churned and throbbed inside her brain.
As Wolf revealed his sharp canines, Cinder discovered where Sybil’s gift was boiling hot in her attempts to control Wolf, leaving the rest of her brain cool and vulnerable.
When Wolf lowered his fangs toward Cinder’s unprotected throat, Cinder seized Sybil’s mind and attacked.
Fifty-Five
Crack.
Cress glanced up just as Iko slid off Wolf’s back, landing broken and mangled on the hard ground. A shudder tore through her. Even from this distance she could see the torn flesh and sparking wires.
“What was that?”
She returned her attention to Thorne. She was still kneeling beside him, trying to steady him as best she could. He’d taken a hard punch to his stomach that had knocked the wind from him, but at least he was breathing and talking again.
“I think we just lost Iko,” she said. “Can you stand?”
Thorne groaned, still clasping one hand to his stomach. “Yeah,” he said, sounding none too convinced.
Something shuffled. Glancing up, Cress squeaked and dug her fingers into Thorne’s arms. The guards, having been paralyzed and empty faced for the past few moments, were twitching. One of them groaned.
Beside her, Thorne pulled himself to his feet. “There. Better,” he said, though he was still grimacing. “Do you see my cane anywhere? Or my knife?”
She spotted the cane behind one of the guards, whose furious gaze was no longer empty or harmless.
“Cress?”
“Guards are up again,” she said.
Thorne flinched. “All six of them?”
She glanced over her shoulder. “And Cinder’s on the ground—she might be unconscious. And Wolf’s still under Sybil’s control and I … I think he’s going to…” She squeezed Thorne’s arm, horrified at the sight of Wolf pinning Cinder to the ground. She wanted to look away, but couldn’t, like being stuck in a bad dream.
“That all sounds very dire,” said Thorne.
Shivering, she pressed her back against him, wondering how her death was going to come. Her skull crushed against the concrete? Her neck snapped like Iko’s?
“I guess it’s time.”
While Cress’s thoughts continued to churn through the horrible things that could happen to her, she felt herself being suddenly spun around and dipped backward, a supportive arm scooping beneath her back. She yelped and caught herself on Thorne’s shoulder.
Then he was kissing her.
The battle became a hurricane, with them caught in the eye—his arms cradling her against the wind, her skirt billowing around his legs, his lips gentle but coaxing as if they had all the time in the world.
Warmth overtook her and Cress closed her eyes. She thought her arms wanted to wrap around his neck, but her whole body was vibrating and dizzy and she could barely keep her fingers clutched around the fabric of his shirt.
She had just finished melting when she was suddenly righted again.
The world flipped. Thorne spun, embracing her against his chest with one arm while the other reached for his waist. Cress heard the gunshot and screamed, pressing herself against him, before she realized that Thorne was the one who had fired.
A guard grunted.
Another guard grabbed Thorne by the collar and he turned, elbowing the guard in the jaw.
“Cress, do me a favor.” He twirled her around so that her back was against him—she was beginning to feel like a satellite being constantly spun out of orbit, but she had no time to think as Thorne settled his arm on her shoulder. “Make sure I don’t shoot anyone we like.”
He fired again and the bullet clipped a guard’s bicep. The guard barely flinched, and lunged toward them.
Gasping, Cress wrapped her hands around Thorne’s and aimed. He fired again, this time hitting the guard in the chest. He stumbled backward and fell.
Cress swiveled, pulling Thorne’s hand toward the next guard. Another shot to the chest. A third shot hit the next guard’s shoulder. She aimed for the fourth—
Click. Click.
Thorne cursed. “Well, that was fun while it lasted.”
The guard laughed. He was tall and made of muscle, with orange-red hair that swept nearly straight up, and he was the only guard that Cress recognized. She’d seen him on the surveillance footage before, usually along with the rest of the queen’s entourage, which meant he was probably the highest-ranking guard among them.
“If it’s all right with you,” he said, “I’ll be killing you now.”
“Aren’t you a gentleman?” Thorne said, pulling Cress behind him and raising his fists.
A scream split through the wind.
Not just a scream, but a scream made up of pain and delirium, torture and agony.
Cress and Thorne both ducked and covered their ears, and at first Cress was terrified that it was Cinder. But when she looked, Mistress Sybil had fallen on the ground and was twitching and digging her nails into her scalp. The scream went on and on as she twisted and flailed, craning her head so fast it smacked against the asphalt, then curling up on herself like a fetus, searching for relief that wasn’t coming.
Cinder still appeared unconscious, with Wolf hovering over her. But then he whipped his head like a bedraggled dog and sprang away from Cinder with wild, remorseful eyes.
Cinder stayed corpse-like on the ground.
“Stop!” the red-haired guard yelled. He grabbed Cress, yanking her away from Thorne and wrapping one hand around her throat. She screamed and clawed at his wrists, but he didn’t seem to notice. “I said stop, or I’ll crush her throat!” Though he was yelling, he could hardly be heard over Sybil, and either Cinder didn’t hear him or she didn’t care … or she couldn’t stop. Cress tried to kick behind her, but her legs were too short and already darkness was encroaching on her vision.…
Crack.
The guard’s fist loosened and he toppled over, unconscious. Cress stumbled away from him, rubbing her neck. Spinning around, she saw Thorne holding his cane like a club.
“I found my cane,” he said, tossing it once with a twirl and trying to catch the other end, but missing. The cane clattered to the floor. Thorne flinched. “Are you all right?”
She gulped, ignoring how it burned in her throat. “Y-yes.”
“Good.” Thorne picked up the cane again. “Now what in the name of spades is all the screaming about?”
“I don’t know. Cinder’s doing something to Mistress Sybil … something with her gift.”
“Well, it’s annoying and we’re running out of time. Come on.”
One of the guards they’d shot reached out for Cress’s ankle as she passed, but she kicked at him as they ran for Cinder. Wolf was shaking her, but she wasn’t responding. Behind them, Sybil’s screams tapered into uncontrollable blubbering as she convulsed on the ground.
“Maybe Cinder has to be rebooted,” said Thorne, after Cress had described the situation as well as she could. “That happened once before. Here.” He reached beneath Cinder’s head and Cress heard a click.
Cinder’s eyes popped open and her hand snapped around Thorne’s wrist. Crying out, he fell over onto the ground.
Sybil’s sobs dwindled to whimpering.
“Don’t. Open. My control panel,” she said. Releasing Thorne, she shut the plate in her head.
“Then stop going comatose on me!” He stood up. “Can we go now, before the entire Commonwealth military shows up?”
Cinder sat up, blinking. “Iko…”
“Right. Wolf, could you get the android, please? And the emperor, I trust he’s still around here somewhere?”
The emperor. In the chaos, Cress had forgotten all about him.
“Sirens.”
Cress looked at Wolf. His head was cocked to one side.
“Heading this direction.”
“Which means the military won’t be far behind,” said Cinder. “I take it there’s no sign of Jacin?”
No one responded. There had been no sign of their getaway pilot since the fight had started. Cress licked her lips. Had he betrayed them? Had he told Sybil about their plan?
“Figures,” said Cinder. “Thorne, you’re with me in the cockpit. Jacin and I practiced takeoffs … once. You can help jog my memory.”