Chapter 100 Strike

Chapter 100 Strike
 Violet's Pov  

The corridor was narrow, lit, and both fighters were already in motion.  

Jacob moved right exactly as I’d told him. The left fighter hesitated. Half a step. Jacob used it, closed the distance with his shoulder down, and drove the man into the wall.  

I turned to the right fighter.  

I had Jacob’s arm in my hand for two more seconds before he pulled away. Enough time.  

I had seen this man before. Right-handed, strong, fast on the first strike, overcommitted on the follow-through.  

”Wait for the second strike,” I said, mostly to myself.  

He swung.  

I moved left. Not fast, not at full speed, not in this body with Eli this low, but far enough. The first strike missed by inches.  

The second started. Overcommitted. Right arm extended too far.  

I used his momentum and redirected it. Both hands on his forearm, angling down and across.  

He stumbled forward and hit the wall.  

I stepped back.  

Jacob had his fighter down.  

We were standing in the corridor together. His wrists still bound behind him. My hands on my belly.  

”The stairs,” Jacob said.  

”Wait.”  

I pressed both hands against Eli and closed my eyes. Two seconds. The vision came fast through the connection. The staircase. The ground floor corridor. The kitchen door. The garden. The eastern gate.  

”Two more fighters at the base of the stairs,” I said. ”One on the ground floor near the study. The eastern gate is clear right now, but the outer unit will reach it in eight minutes.”  

”Eight minutes.”  

”Move fast, we make it.” I opened my eyes. ”Move slow, we don’t.”  

”Can you move fast?”  

I looked at him.  

”Stupid question,” he said. ”Let’s go.”  

We went up the staircase.  

Behind us in the room, I heard Eric’s voice. He was calling out. Alert. Instructions to whoever was left.  

I did not look back.  

The staircase was wide enough for one person at full speed. I was not at full speed. Jacob stayed at my side and matched my pace without being asked.  

”First step,” he said.  

”I see it.” I gripped the banister.  

We went down.  

Halfway down, the two fighters at the bottom saw us. One started up immediately. Fast. The other moved toward the corridor to cut off the ground floor.  

The one coming up the stairs was young. New to the rotation.  

”He overcommits high,” I said to Jacob. ”When he reaches the step below us, he’ll swing for your head. Duck left.”  

”Left.” Jacob reached the step.  

The fighter swung.  

Jacob ducked left. The strike sailed over his head.

Jacob drove forward with his shoulder. Both men went sideways into the banister. It held. Jacob pushed off and the fighter lost his footing and sat down hard on the stairs.  

We kept moving.  

Ground floor corridor. Long. The study door on the left side. One fighter standing near it.  

I looked at him. I didn’t have time for a full vision. Just a read. A quick sweep of his stance, the way he was holding his weight. 

”He’ll go for me to make you stop,” I said. 

”Don’t stop.”  

”Violet.…”  

”Don’t stop,” I said. ”Keep moving for the kitchen. I’ll handle it.”  

”You are nine months pregnant.…”  

”Don’t stop.”  

The fighter moved for me exactly as I’d said.  

I sidestepped. Less graceful than I would have liked. My balance was compromised, my back screamed at the angle, but I sidestepped.  

He grabbed my arm.  

I let him.  

I used the grip. Two hands on his forearm. Contact. The vision came immediately. His left knee had a weakness. The same injury pattern as the fighter upstairs.  

I didn’t have time to act on it.  

Jacob had turned back.  

”I said don’t stop,” I said sharply.  

”I’m not stopping.” He hit the fighter with his shoulder again. Still no hands available. He was working with body weight and speed. It worked.  

The fighter released my arm.  

We moved.  

Kitchen door. I pushed through it. The kitchen was empty. The lamp on the table was lit. The garden door was on the far side.  

”Bette,” I said under my breath. She had cleared the kitchen. On purpose. She had known.  

We went through the garden door.  

The path of gravel ran from the door to the gate. 

”The gate is on the east side,” Jacob said.  

”I know where the gate is.”  

We crossed the garden. My feet on the gravel. My hands on Eli. My back is a constant ache I managed by not thinking about it.  

”Eight minutes,” Jacob said.  

”Six now,” I said.  

”How much of that is walking time?” 

”Four minutes to the gate at this pace.” I kept moving. ”We have two minutes of margin.”  

”And after the gate.” 

”Your wolves are at the eastern boundary.” I pressed my hand against Eli. He pushed back. Still strong. Still present. ”Caius is out there somewhere. Darius and Hal.”  

”Darius,” Jacob said. ”They took him in the corridor when we first came in. Where is he?” 

I stopped.  

I pressed both hands on Eli.  

Vision. Darius. The connection was weak because the bond was indirect, but it came.  

”Outer building,” I said. ”The one Stephanie was using. He’s in there. Two fighters are watching him.”  

Jacob looked toward the outer building across the grounds.  

”We don’t have time,” I said.  

”Violet….”  

”Six wolves at the eastern boundary, Jacob. The moment we get through that gate and make contact, they can come back for Darius.” I met his eyes. ”We can’t get him out right now and get Eli out safely. We can’t do both at this pace.”  

He held my gaze. He hated it. I could see that clearly.  

”He’d tell you the same thing,” I said.

A long pause.  

”Yes,” he said. ”He would.”  

We kept moving.  

The garden gate was twenty feet ahead.

I pressed my hands against Eli and ran the vision one more time.  

The gate. The open ground beyond it. The eastern fence. Caius on the far side.  

I saw Caius at the tree line. Waiting. The way he had been waiting for twenty-three years at various distances.  

I opened my eyes.  

The garden gate was in front of me.

I put my hand on the latch.  

”Violet.” Jacob’s voice was close behind me. Quiet.  

I turned.  

He was looking at my face. At all of it. In the last six months written in whatever I looked like, standing in the dark garden with the house lights moving behind us. 

”When we get through this gate,” he said, ”I’m going to need both my hands.”  

I looked at the rope on his wrists.  

I didn’t have anything to cut it with.  

”The gate post,” I said. ”The old one on the left. There’s a nail at shoulder height that’s been pulling loose from the wood for years. Eric kept saying he’d fix it.”

Jacob turned to the post. He found the nail by feel. He worked the rope across it twice.  

The rope split.  

He rolled his wrists forward, shook his hands out, and looked at his palms.  

”Both hands,” I said.  

He flexed his fingers. ”Both hands.”  

”Good.” I pushed the gate open. ”Then let’s go.”  

We went through.  

The ground on the other side was dark, cold, and clear.  

Behind us in the house, a door slammed.

Ahead at the tree line, I could see the shape of a figure stepping forward.  

Caius.  

And beside him, Hal, already moving toward us at a run.  

And on the far side of the fence, the gate was swinging open.  

Not the locked gate. The eastern gate. Standing open.  

Fen.  

Still there. Still making his choice.  

I pressed one hand against Eli and kept walking.  

”Almost,” I told him. ”Almost.”  

He pushed back.  

Behind me, I heard Eric’s voice crossing the garden. Sharp. Urgent.  

”Stephanie,” he called. ”The eastern perimeter.”  

Then Stephanie’s voice, closer than I expected.  

”I’m already there,” she said.  

I stopped walking.  

Jacob stopped beside me.  

Stephanie was standing between us and the open gate.  

She had a fighter on each side of her. She was looking at me with the expression she’d had since she walked back into my life. Calculating. Patient.  

”You’re very impressive,” she said. 
”Genuinely. I mean that.”  

I looked at her.  

I pressed both hands against Eli.  

And I let the vision come.