“It’ll survive.” Cym would keep up no matter how it felt. If Fourteen was going to keep risking his life for Cym, then Cym vowed to do everything in his power not to drag him down while he did it.

Fourteen kissed Cym in response.

“You two are being way too quiet over there,” Sterling said in a disgruntled tone.

Cym tried to skitter backward, but Fourteen held him fast and said, “All clear.” So when Sterling turned around, he didn’t have any illusions about what he’d interrupted them doing.

Sterling gave Fourteen the stink eye but didn’t comment.

Cym slapped on a fake, cheery voice and said, “Okay, so what’s the plan? Even if we get out of here, we’ve got Sterling and Hester with us now. We can’t leave her behind or that nightmare will just go back to her. We can’t hide all of us using your shield. Well, not for very long.” The mental image of Fourteen carrying all three of them around in his arms for the rest of his life made Cym smile.

Fourteen put a hand up reminding him of a child asking a question in school. “What’s a nightmare?”

Oops. Fourteen was so efficient at everything he did, Cym kept forgetting that they weren’t from the same world and he had a lot of gaps in his knowledge. Cym hurried to explain. “A nightmare is a creature that has escaped from the dreamscape; they’re created from the fears of humans. Guardians are supposed to hunt them down and destroy them before they make it to the Real—the waking world—but I think this one has been running around here for a long time.”

“Guardians? I met some people claiming to be guardians earlier today, right after you ditched me,” Fourteen offered.

“I didn’t—” Cym tried to protest, but he stopped when Fourteen gave him a sharp look. Cym had totally ditched him and didn’t have a leg to stand on. Fourteen had one hell of an apology coming to him. Was cock-sucking a good method of apology? Cym would happily become a pro if that’s what it took.

Sterling ignored their by-play and said excitedly, “If we can get out of here and make it to the Guard, we might have a chance. Cymbeline, the entire family isn’t like her.” He motioned toward Hester. “There are a few of us who are just scared and want away from what’s been happening. If you go to the Guard, they can help you take over the family. I mean, it’s supposed to be yours in the first place.”

Cym looked at Fourteen, questioning.

“Whatever you choose, I’ll get you there.”

“Well, that’s no damned help at all.” Cym huffed out an irritated breath. Then, after taking in Fourteen’s stiff posture, he added hurriedly, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t take it out on you. It’s just… I’m not a leader. I’m not anything!”

Fourteen took Cym’s uninjured hand carefully, treating it like something more precious than diamonds, and kissed it. “Then your possibilities are limitless.”

When Cym’s magic rose to pour into Fourteen, he noticed it felt different than it had moments before. Instead of a desperate need to fix something, Cym felt like it was reaching out to greet an old friend. He gazed into Fourteen’s eyes, shadowed with the stress of the past few days, and smiled.

“Stop trying to maul my brother!” Sterling waved a hand between the two of them to break their eye contact and then jumped back to a safe distance. “We. Don’t. Have. Time. For. This.” He enhanced each word with a clap to impart his full meaning.

Reluctantly, Cym pulled his hand free with a gentle tug. “Sterling is right. Let’s get out of the compound first, then we can all decide where to go next.”

With a miniscule quirk of his lip, Fourteen nodded his assent and strode over to the door to peer outside. “My guy did a good job. Half the place is in flames. Sterling, can you carry Hester?”

Sterling made a face. “If I have to.”

Once he had loaded Sterling with the dead weight of Hester’s body, Fourteen said, “I’ll go first. When I want you two to follow, I’ll do this.” He made a quick motion with his hand. “Stay as low as you can, and keep close unless I tell you to fall back. And remember, Cym, don’t issue any commands.”

Cym saluted with a wink. “Yessir!”

Fourteen quirked his mouth again and disappeared from the doorframe.

Cym hadn’t seen the compound his family had evacuated to—he hadn’t woken up until after he reached the garage. Fourteen must have taken careful notes though, since he made his way through the buildings like he’d lived there his whole life.

At one point they heard shouting and saw three mercenaries directly ahead of them. Cym thought they would be trapped when burning rubble fell behind them, but Fourteen just stopped, shoved Cym and his brother down a small passage between buildings, and picked off all three mercs with efficient headshots.

Cym was grateful for the adrenaline pumping through his body. It allowed him to keep up with Fourteen regardless of how his feet felt as he wove through narrow alleys and was shepherded past open spaces. During their mad dash through the compound, Cym became so attuned to Fourteen’s body language that when Fourteen stopped abruptly, Cym stepped to the side automatically to keep from smashing into him. Sterling wasn’t so lucky, and Cym had to dodge out of his way so his magic wouldn’t roll him.

“What is it?” Cym was so quiet he wasn’t sure Fourteen would hear him.

“No cover,” Fourteen replied in a low rumble.

Cym peered into the darkness ahead and saw a barren field between them and the forest. There was at least three hundred yards of empty space between them and freedom.

“If we’re going to have to run for it, I’m going to need a rest. I don’t think Hester has been going easy on the snacks.” Sterling propped the woman’s body against the wall of the building giving them cover and let out a sigh of relief.

“No time. We need to get out of here while our distraction is intact. If you fall behind I will leave you here,” Fourteen replied coldly.

“Then you’ll leave me here too,” Cym stated, daring Fourteen to test him on it.

The corners of Fourteen’s eyes tightened, and Cym wondered if his soldier was going to throw him over one shoulder and make a run for it. “Fine,” Fourteen snapped and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. “Two minutes.”

“Maybe I can help you carry her, Ster—,” Cym began but stopped when both men shook their heads.

“I’ll carry her if it comes down to it.” Fourteen said, ending the conversation.

“Stop getting so worked up. I just needed to take a breath before the big push. I’m sixteen—I recover quickly.” Sterling eyed Fourteen with annoyance. “Not like this guy. He’ll probably have a heart attack if he's not careful. What are you, forty?”

“Twenty-six,” Fourteen said, unfazed. “Probably. Are you recovered yet, or do I need to carry you and Hester both?”

“I’m ready, Terminator.” Sterling tried to pull Hester onto his shoulder smoothly and almost succeeded. When Cym tried to steady him, he scowled, and Cym skittered backward, remembering—again—the need to give Sterling plenty of room.

“On my mark, run as fast as you can. Cym, lean on me as much as you need to.” Fourteen peered into the darkness, waiting for something Cym couldn’t sense. “Now.”

He did the best he could, but it didn’t take long for Cym to lag as his injured ankle started to campaign loudly for an early day. He wasn’t going to make it. “Fourteen—” The sky above them burst into light, exposing their position to everyone in sight. Stunned, the group stopped in its tracks.

From the darkness of the forest, countless cousins, aunts, and uncles came out. Most of their names had been long since forgotten by Cym. The clattering of boots rang out on the rooftops behind them, and he turned to see dozens of soldiers, all carrying automatic weapons and bringing them to bear upon Cym and his assembly, making him feel small and insignificant.

Twisted laughter came from the alley they had bolted from, and out stepped Stella—or what was left of her. Cym could see the wrongness even before his aunt emerged from the shadows. The monster possessing his aunt was making no attempt to hide itself now. It had no need to. It had them surrounded.

Cym’s insides turned to ice as he saw how utterly and completely trapped they were. He couldn’t let his brother and Fourteen die here—not because of him. It was incomprehensible the gods would bring them into his life only to take them away so brutally.

“Let them go!” Cym shouted over the rising wind, but his words were whipped away from his lips and they came out sounding small and puny. “You can have me. I won’t fight.”

The monster smiled, a mockery of an expression that stretched grotesquely across his aunt’s face.

Behind him Fourteen growled. “Like hell.” He snatched Hester away from Sterling and put a gun to her head. “Let us all go, or she’s dead.”

Sterling made an urk of protest.

“Stupid child, there is nothing of your mother left inside that husk. Why do you think we wanted Cymbeline? We needed another body to sustain us.” Stella’s arm flopped back and forth like a puppet trying to make a shooing motion. “Kill her. That woman’s body means nothing to me. But a willing body with your kind of power? That means something. What do you say, Cymbeline? Want to make a deal with me like your great-grandmother did a few centuries back?”

The idea of sharing his body with the thing inside his aunt caused Cym’s bravery to shatter, leaving him an exposed, quivering child screaming for his mommy to make the monsters go away. But the monsters had eaten his mother, and Cym was so paralyzed with fear that he couldn’t respond.

A warm body pressed against his back.