Chapter 62 Drop

Chapter 62 Drop
The ding of the elevator still echoed in the silence of the master suite, a death knell for our original escape plan.

Vesper stepped over Seratti’s unconscious body without a glance.

"Stairs are suicide," he stated, his voice a low rumble. "Enzo will have teams moving up from the fortieth floor by now, pinching us in."

"The elevator shaft?" I asked, clutching Sylvia tighter to my side. She was trembling violently, her eyes wide.

"They’ll cut the power. Trap us between floors and gas us out." Vesper strode out of the bedroom into the cavernous living area, his eyes scanning the panoramic windows that offered a multimillion-dollar view of a fifty-story drop.

He stopped in front of the thickest pane of glass, looking down.

"We aren't going down the inside," Vesper said, turning to face us. His green eyes were wild, lit with a terrifying kind of inspiration. "We're going down the outside."

My breath caught in my throat. "Vesper, are you insane? We can't fly."

"I can fall," he corrected grimly. "And I can land. But not with both of you in my arms. The impact would kill you."

He stepped closer, his hands gripping my shoulders, ignoring my flinch of pain. The intensity of his gaze burned away my fear, replacing it with adrenaline.

"Sylvania. The training. Estava said the power responds to emotion. You used rage in the sewer. You need to use something else now."

"What?" I whispered.

"Protection," he said fiercely. "Look at your sister. If we don't make this jump, she goes back in that box. Or worse."

I looked down at Sylvia. She was so small against me. The thought of anyone hurting her, of throwing her back into this nightmare, kindled a different kind of fire in my gut.

"I need you to build a cushion," Vesper explained rapidly. "When we jump, I need you to push that energy out. Not as a blast, but as a bubble. Slow our descent just enough so I don't shatter every bone in my body when we hit the roof of the parking structure next door."

It was a twenty-story drop to that adjacent roof.

"Okay," I nodded, the iron wall in my mind slamming down hard, locking away the terror. "Okay. Do it."

Vesper moved fast. He grabbed the makeshift leather straps of his butcher's apron, ripping them off his forearms.

"Sylvia, come here," he commanded gently.

Sylvia hesitated, clinging to me.

"Go to him, Lil-bit," I urged her, my voice steady. "He's going to carry you. Like a backpack. You have to hold on tight, okay? Don't let go no matter what."

She nodded jerkily and stepped toward the terrifying, bruised giant. Vesper knelt, turning his back to her. She climbed onto his back, wrapping her spindly legs around his waist. He used the leather straps to secure her tightly to his torso, knotting them with brutal efficiency.

"Face in my neck, little one," he instructed. "Eyes closed. Do not open them until I say."

She buried her face in his shoulder, whimpering.

Vesper stood up, testing the weight. He looked at me. "Ready?"

"Ready."

He walked over to the bronze bust on the pedestal—the one I had leaned against earlier. He hefted the heavy metal sculpture with a grunt of effort.

He swung it with all his hybrid strength against the floor-to-ceiling window.

The sound was deafening. The reinforced safety glass didn't shatter; it spiderwebbed violently, bowing outward.

He swung again.

This time, the glass gave way. A massive section exploded outward, raining glittering shards down toward the street far below.

The rush of wind was immediate. Cold night air screamed into the penthouse, whipping my hair across my face, carrying the sounds of the city traffic—sirens, horns—that sounded impossibly distant.

Vesper stepped onto the ledge, broken glass crunching under his boots. The drop was sickening. The cars below looked like Matchbox toys.

He held out his hand. "Come on."

I stepped out onto the ledge beside him. The wind tried to push me back. My heart was hammering so hard I thought I might pass out.

Vesper wrapped his free arm around my waist, pulling me tight against his side. I wrapped my good arm around his neck, burying my face in his chest, right next to Sylvia's hidden head.

"On three," Vesper shouted over the wind. "Push the energy, Sylvania. Push it down."

I closed my eyes. I visualized the violet fire coiled in my gut. I pictured Sylvia's terrified face. I pictured the iron wall in my mind.

Protect them.

"One."

Vesper bent his knees, coiling his muscles.

"Two."

I took a deep breath, tasting the cold air and Vesper’s sweat.

"Three!"

He leaped.

For a heartbeat, there was nothing but weightlessness and the roar of wind. My stomach lurched into my throat. We were falling. Fast. The city lights blurred into streaks of neon.

Vesper roared, a sound of pure defiance against gravity. I felt his body shifting against mine, bones grinding, muscles becoming denser, harder, preparing for an impact that should have killed us all.

Now!

I pushed. I didn't scream; I shoved the energy down with a cold, desperate mental grunt.

A sphere of violet light erupted around us. It wasn't the chaotic lightning of the sewer; it was a thick, viscous gelatin of power.

We hit the atmosphere like a stone hitting water. The descent slowed instantly. The force slammed me against Vesper, knocking the wind out of me.

We were still falling too fast, but it was no longer a terminal velocity dive. It was a controlled crash.

The roof of the parking garage rushed up to meet us.

Vesper twisted his body in mid-air, taking the brunt of the impact on his back and legs, shielding me and Sylvia.

We hit.

The sound was sickening—a wet thud combined with the crack of concrete. The violet sphere shattered on impact, dissipating into smoke. We rolled, tangling together, sliding ten feet across the gravel rooftop before coming to a stop against a concrete pylon.

Silence.

Then, a groan.

Vesper lay on his back, staring up at the sky, gasping for air. Sylvia was still strapped to him, sobbing hysterically but alive. I was lying half on top of him, my bad shoulder throbbing with renewed agony, but I was whole.

"Did we make it?" I wheezed.

Vesper turned his head, coughing. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. He looked at me, and a pained, triumphant grin split his bruised face.

"We flew," he rasped.

He fumbled with the knots, releasing a screaming Sylvia, who immediately scrambled over to me, burying her face in my neck.

Vesper rolled onto his side and pushed himself up. He swayed, his face gray with pain. He’d definitely broken something else.

"We have to move," he said, his voice tight. "They heard the glass break. They'll be looking down."

He pulled me to my feet. I held Sylvia with my good arm.

We staggered across the parking deck toward the access ramp stairs. We looked like monsters rising from the grave—bloodied, covered in dust and glass shards.

We descended the stairs to the street level, bursting out of the stairwell door into a dirty alleyway behind the garage.

Fifty yards down the alley, the gray Honda Civic was idling, its brake lights glowing red in the dark.

Julian was leaning against the hood, vibrating with anxiety. When he saw us emerge from the shadows, he nearly fell over with relief.

"Holy shit," he breathed, running to open the back door. "You got her. Where's Seratti? Did you kill him?"

"He's sleeping it off in the closet," Vesper grunted, practically falling into the passenger seat.

I shoved Sylvia into the back seat, then climbed in after her. Aleera was there, pulling Lily into a hug, murmuring comforts. Estava turned from the front seat, her black eyes assessing us critically.

"You're alive," the old seer stated. "Messy. Looning horrible. But alive."

"Drive, Julian," Vesper commanded, leaning his head back against the seat and closing his eyes. "Before Enzo figures out birds don't usually fly out of penthouse windows."