Free Beyond the Veil by Pippa DaCosta Page B

Weren ’ t these things meant to save lives? My breath rasped in short sharp gasps. My heart galloped behind my ribs. The tingle sensation of my element trickled forth. The source of it at my core broiled in response to my panic. Considering how I hung upside over a pool of gasoline, the last thing I wanted was fire or heat of any kind, but my instincts weren ’ t listening. Goddamnit, I wasn ’ t dying there, trapped in a steel coffin. I hadn ’ t survived years of torture and countless assassination attempts to die like that. I was stronger than that, better than that.
    Rage chased away the debilitating effects of fear. I screamed at the damned seatbelt, punching the buckle until it finally released me, depositing me unceremoniously upside-down amid the mangled wreckage. Twisting around inch by inch, I managed to get myself into a position where I could grab the passenger door and drag myself through the tiny gap that had once been the window. My head barely squeezed through. My cheek grated against the shattered glass. I reached out with a hand, clawing at the pavement to try and find purchase so I could pull myself free.
    I saw Stefan.
    He kneeled on one knee in the road. Sparkling vines of ice rooted him to the ground. His entire body, clothes and all, glinted sharply with fragments of ice. But it was the wings that held me spellbound. They rose from his back, insubstantial, not quite solid enough to touch, but very real. Each feather appeared to be made of ice. The light from the streetlights fractured through each fine barb, casting multicolored shafts of light on the black asphalt surrounding him.
    I watched, awestruck as he hunkered down, wings flexing behind him while he summoned a sword of ice into his right hand. Jagged fragments of crystalline ice layered one on top of the other, creating a long, thin weapon. I ’ d been mistaken. It wasn ’ t a sword but a spear.
    A snarling growl tore my attention from Stefan. The remaining hound stood within leaping distance of Stefan. Its monstrous head hung low, lips rippling over glistening teeth. Drool pooled on the road just ahead of its substantial paws. The spines along its back rippled, making a hideous hissing as they scraped together. It stood still, leg muscles bunched, ready to spring forward at any moment.
    Then it saw me and cocked its head to one side. Its leathery lips formed a grin.
    “ Hey. Not her! Me! ” Stefan stood, ice cracking off him. Fragments of it tinkled against the road surface.
    I heard sirens nearby, but the authorities were the least of our concerns. Clawing again at the road, I attempted to drag myself free, but every movement drew the hound ’ s attention right back to me.
    Stefan growled and flung an ice shard at the beast. It shattered against its thick hairless flesh, doing little damage. I realized we were probably about to die. You can ’ t kill them, and you can ’ t stop them. What chance did we have?
    He flung a second shard of ice. A third. The hound snarled its fury then sprang off its feet, leaping at Stefan. He hunkered low, wrapping his right arm around the spear and thrusting it up right through the belly of the hound, using its own momentum to fling it over him. The beast yowled, slamming into the road with a heavy thump. Its front leg pawed at the air. Its keening whimpers hollow and chilling.
    Stefan came for me, tossing aside the ice spear as he reached down, and clasped a bitterly cold hand around mine. He tugged me free of the wreckage just as the police cars squealed into the street behind us. As his icy visage melted away, wings dissolving into snow and dissipating, he scanned our surroundings. The buildings lining the street huddled closely together.
    “ There, the alley. Go. ”
    I ran, adrenalin fuelling my fight or flight response, and kept up with Stefan as we ducked into the alley. A chain-link fence blocked our path. He didn ’ t hesitate but clambered up a dumpster and leaped over the top. I scrambled