Page 113 of Inextricably Tied

“You know what?” Tamneth pushes to his feet. “How about you two take some time in a cell to think it over. Maybe you’ll come up with some brilliant new plan to recover all the evidence you lost us.”

Flint pushes out of his chair, edging in front of Harbinger. “You can’t be serious.”

Tamneth jerks his chin toward her “Make sure you strip-search her. Can never be sure what she’s hiding under there.”

“You will not fucking touch her.” Flint’s snarl rattles the table. The guards tighten their hands around their weapons. Flint grapples for something to make this stop, but they’re as trapped as they were in the cellar. “This is an abuse of power. You’re retaliating.”

Tamneth tilts his head as the armed guards move around him. “And who’s going to believe you?”

Flint replays it later — over and over, looking for something that he missed.

The lights go out.

Agony’s eyes appear next to Harbinger’s, tendrils ghosting across her cheek. “You have to keep going, little death.” His voice is little more than a whisper, lost in the sound of guns cocking. Harbinger’s eyes reflect Agony’s light before he turns to Flint. Wisps drift weakly from Agony, his expression faltering until his shadows give one final flare.

“Jasper.”

And then he vanishes.

Flint knows with one word. The same way he can read Harbinger with a look, Flint translates Agony’s wish into movement.

Gunfire pelts Flint’s rock armor the second he turns his back, clutching Harbinger to his chest. Bullets chip away at him, ricocheting off walls and paintings, shattering glass in the frames.

Someone runs shrieking into the hallway.

“He’s convulsing! Someone, hurry, get him out of his cuffs!”

It only stops the gunfire for a moment, but that’s enough.

Drywall crumbles as Flint smashes through the wall. Tamneth shouts. Flint doesn’t look back, barreling down the corridor with Harbinger.

It’s chaos. Reid writhes on the floor, foam spilling from his mouth, body jerking at impossible angles. OID officers scramble to subdue him, but something supernatural flails in his body. Flint can only imagine what he sees; the terror he inflicted, his worst nightmares crammed repeatedly into his mind.

Screams fade as Flint ducks around a corner, the footsteps behind him growing louder. Harbinger clutches at his arm. “Agony.” Her eyes widen. “He’s — no!” She tries to pull out of Flint’s arms. “We have to go back! We have to go back!”

Flint presses down the pain in his chest and holds Harbinger closer, darting around another corner. He needs an exit.

“Flint! We can’t —” she gasps, pressing her hand against her chest. “I’m —”

Boots thunder around the corner behind them. Flint’s tail whips into a room, yanking rows of shelves across the hallway. He shifts out of the armor on his wings, feet cracking the tile floor as he sprints.

A window —

There.

“No, please! He can’t do this! He’s going to —” Tears streak down Harbinger’s face. Flint wishes he could spare her. Save Agony. Keep her from feeling every second of it.

Flint crushes his arms around her, bursting through the glass, sending shards raining to the street below. His wings carry them skyward, straining to arc them back over the building, dodging gunfire as his rock armor shifts away.

Then Flint feels it — a taut line severed inside him, recoiling like a cut thread. He’s never known pain like that. Not since Sidi, light fading from her eyes. Flint can’t escape it now, the candle snuffed out, leaving a wisp of smoke in Flint’s memory.

It’s nearly enough to take him out of the air, the hole inside him growing. Harbinger wails like she’s dying herself. They both know it now.

Agony is gone.

FORTY-ONE

Harbinger