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McClair laughed as he shook his head and raised his glass in her direction.
“I’ll make sure I get my fashion agent on it to see if I can snag one for myself,” he offered. “I’m sure you’ve heard of Ruby Phoenix. She’s the leading designer for the upcoming fashion show.”
That perked Willow’s interest, and I worried she’d give out way more information than necessary, but she bobbed her head and looked deep in thought, to the point that I was beginning to realize she was talking to her wolf, Bria.
“Willow?” I inquired when she looked almost dazed.
“Bria said that guy smelled funny,” she voiced. “Something like…dynamite?”
I stared at her for a hard minute before I cursed and let go of her hand.
“Neo?” McClair was clearly trying to not sound suddenly anxious at the mention of dynamite, but I couldn’t focus on him as I sank my teeth into my wrist unit my blood sputtered out and I swiftly spun in a circle - triggering my once black world to become flooded with color.
I was surprised by the added help as Willow tugged my blindfold off. It was fucking perfect timing because my eyes snapped open and locked onto the hidden package in the corner of the room near the left side of the door.
Shooting my hand out, the stream of floating blood reached the target in three seconds flat - its fluid body managing to solidify enough to lift the potential bomb without triggering it. The blood thinned as it began to spin around the item like a bubble, and I manipulated the density of it to try to see how much time we had left.
My eyes widened the moment I saw the final 00:05 on the digital counter, and my whole body tensed up as I realized shit was going to get a bit toasty in here. All I could think about was Willow and how the fuck I’d get her out of this situation in four fucking seconds, but suddenly she was in my line of view.
“Wil-”
The sound of a safety being turned off was followed with her pulling the trigger without a second of delay. We all braced ourselves for the whiplash of explosive power that would spark the moment the bullet struck the package, but the moment it did, the explosion was suddenly frozen at the last second of its destructive force.
What the fuck?
I was questioning whether we were frozen in time or not, but I was breathing swiftly just like the other men in the room. All eyes were on the stilled bomb that had surely gone off.
Willow?
My thought reached out to her, but I felt that her entire body and mind were focused on the package in question as if she were trying to figure out what to do with it. Just brushing her mind with my own made me feel the immense strain the delay was causing her, which forced me to look back to McClair.
“She’s stopping time around the object. Do something!” Blood magic may be my specialty, but this current situation was far out of my expertise.
But a certain fae would know how to get out of this within a few seconds.
He was out of his chair, his security guards immediately taking his glass of whisky and remaining cigar from his grasp as if they were precious items to be held, and I watched in amazement as his entire suit shifted into traditional wear while his short cornrow strands were now long silky tresses levitating in the air.
His hands moved super-fast, the symbols of glowing gold incantations appearing in the space before him. He was chanting something in a foreign language, and he pushed the floating symbols forward.
The rush of magic was like a warm gust of wind, passing Willow and me and hitting the source of our panic. The collision caused the very space around the explosive device to waiver, like a droplet falling into calm waters and creating a ripple effect.
That occurred as the reality from the explosive all the way to the door suddenly seemed like it was submerged in water.
“Let go of time, Disciple,” McClair ordered, and Willow gasped and broke her concentration. I caught her as she fell back, and we watched with wide eyes as the explosive package burst slowly within the transparent space.
It was like watching the detonation happen underwater in slow motion.
None of us let out guard down until McClair now stood before us, his long cape of silky red with golden symbols fluttering behind him while he snapped his fingers.
Just like that, the water began to evaporate until the room was humid as fuck, but the remnants of the bomb dropped to the floor - the few pieces of the package were wrapped in brown paper with hints of the simple wool string that kept it together.
Not a second later, the doors opened and ten guards were inside with their guns drawn. Their movement triggered the shift in their appearance - the men in black suits were suddenly in golden armor with metallic red guns that were decorated with specific symbols of gold.
McClair lifted his hand to signal them to a standstill while remaining in his place.
“The culprit is already being pursued. Send the cleaners to secure this evidence, just in case his boss comes scrambling and trying to deny one of his weaklings tried to pull a stunt on us,” he instructed.
They immediately bowed in understanding and were out the door before we could blink.
