Lupi 04 - Night Season

then another, hugely loud in the enclosed space. He shoved the man off him in time to see tusk-woman toss Steve Timms into the churning brightness that used to be a floor.
    The gate was still growing, and he was kitten-weak from his battle with the loose ley line magic. He couldn’t handle the diamond’s energy, not in this state. With a flick of his hand he extinguished the candles. His spell circle evaporated.
    The room spun for a second as Cullen reabsorbed the magic—Fire energy, and his. His vision cleared in time for him to see the two Secret Service agents who’d responded to the chaos by flinging open the door and drawing their weapons. “Get them out!” he shouted. “Don’t shoot! Just get everyone out of here!”
    Tusk-woman dropped Brooks into the bright chasm, and one of the idiots fired anyway.
    The lights went out.
    In the darkness someone screamed. “Back up!” he called to those who couldn’t, like him, see the shining disaster spreading toward them. “Get your backs to the wall! The gate should stop at the glyphs!”
    Large, strong hands seized his shoulders. The scent told him whose hands. He snarled and drove his fist where her stomach ought to be. Connected.
    It hurt like hell, since that was the hand he’d bashed against her partner’s thick skull. She bloody ignored the blow. He didn’t even get an oof out of her, and she was wounded, too. He smelled the blood and knew Steve must have hit her at least once with that gun of his before she tossed him into the hole in reality.
    Didn’t seem to inconvenience her. She shoved him, and oh, Lady, but this woman could have arm-wrestled a demon.
    Good thing he’d latched on to her arms. His legs went out from under him, but he held on with all the strength he had, and together they stumbled to the edge of the boiling chasm. Her own strength saved him—she jerked back before they could fall in, dragging him with her.
    Cullen tried to trip her. She slapped him, and while his ears were ringing, she pried loose one of his hands. He used the other one to jab at her eye. She grunted and lost her grip, so he dropped to the floor and rolled, colliding with a pair of legs.
    He knew that scent, too. “Get back, dammit!” he yelled at Lily. He staggered to his feet and made sure she did as she was told for once, dragging her past the roiling lines that marked the boundary of the gnome’s spell. He pushed her against the wall. “Stay!”
    Having done all he could, he turned, took four running steps and dived into the screaming whiteness of the gate.

TEN
    C YNNA fell through darkness. She fell and fell, for miles and years. Or maybe it was only seconds, and the darkness wasn’t dark at all. Her senses refused to record what she was falling through.
    Then it was air, bitter cold, rushing past.
    And then she landed.
    Her breath whoof ed out. She lay spread-eagled on something hard and cold. Nothing hurt, she realized in surprise. Overhead…that was way too many stars, whole beaming constellations of them in a sky like spilled ink. Except for right above her, where there was only black…
    A black that someone was falling out of.
    Gan landed with a plop near Cynna’s feet and immediately jumped upright. “Better get out of the way. The others will be—no, wait. It’s moving! It’s not supposed to move!”
    â€œWhat?” Cynna sat up slowly. Snow, she realized, looking around. She’d landed in snow. And that was about all she saw at first—snow glistening in a star-washed night. A great big rock very near…the altar. The altar had fallen through the floor, just like her. And behind it, she saw when she craned her head around, were a whole bunch of dark, scary trees, their branches dusted with white. A forest.
    Another body fell. This one landed about twenty feet away.
    â€œThe gate, stupid.” Gan propped her hands on her hips, glaring at the sky. “The gate’s moving.”
    Right. A gate. She’d fallen through a gate. It hadn’t felt like her previous experience of gates, but what did she know? Maybe there were lots of types of gates and each type offered a different experience.
    Cynna steered for the body—which belonged to McClosky, she saw as he groaned and sat up, looking as dazed as she’d felt. The snow wasn’t deep, no more than a couple inches, but she was glad she’d worn her