The third thud of Silas’s ram hit the door dead center. The cheap lock mechanism disintegrated, and the door flew inward, crashing against the interior wall.
Silas stepped into the room, filling the cramped space, followed closely by Julian, who held the humming brass device—a focusing lens for his own, darker magic. The air in the apartment instantly crackled with antagonistic energy, smelling of static and the Void.
"Give us the artifacts, Caleb," Julian commanded, his facade of civility gone. "The Stone and the Diary. You’re delaying the inevitable."
Caleb stood his ground near the window, gripping the small silver flask of holy water and his weighted blackjack. "You don't want a breach, Julian. The diary says the stone is a governor, not a key. You let the Void in, it won't give you power; it will consume Oakhaven. It will consume you."
Julian scoffed, an unpleasant twist of his thin lips. "The writings of a frightened, dead girl trying to dissuade the worthy from achieving true transcendence. A predictable lie. The void offers limitless power, Mr. Thorne. Stop clinging to your mundane morality."
Silas took a step forward, his immense bulk blocking the doorway. "Enough talk. The boss wants the rock."
Caleb threw the flask of holy water straight at Silas’s face.
It wasn't powerful magic, just blessed water hitting an unblessed agent of darkness. The water sizzled as it made contact with Silas’s skin, who roared in genuine pain and stumbled backward, clawing at his face, momentarily blinded.
Caleb used the diversion. He swung the blackjack at Julian's hand, hoping to knock the brass device away. Julian was faster. He raised the device and fired a blast of white, static energy that hit Caleb square in the chest.
The force threw Caleb against the wall, stealing his breath. Pain exploded in his ribs. He slid to the floor, coughing, the room spinning.
Julian advanced, his face cold and triumphant. "Amateur hour is over, Mr. Thorne." He reached for the satchel where the diary was held.
Suddenly, a loud shriek echoed from outside, followed by the sound of tires screeching to a halt.
A new force hit the apartment—not a battering ram, but a blast of psychic energy that pulverized the remaining door frame. Mara stood in the doorway, bruised but standing tall, a massive, swirling blue aura of protection around her.
"Nobody touches my Finder!" she yelled.
Behind her was Sal, holding a sawed-off shotgun loaded with rock salt and silver shot, aimed squarely at Silas, who was still trying to wipe the holy water from his eyes.
"Julian, you maggot," Sal spat. "Your little society is done."
Julian froze, the element of surprise lost. He stared at Sal and Mara, the brass device humming with frustrated energy. "This changes nothing. The Solstice is tonight. The Nexus Point awaits." He looked down at Caleb on the floor, who clutched the Stone tightly in his hand. "You've merely delayed your city's end."
Julian waved a dismissive hand, and the air around him shimmered. He and Silas vanished as if they were never there, teleported away by a burst of powerful magic, leaving only the smell of ozone and the ruined apartment behind them.
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