Ezra nodded slowly, barely taking his eyes away where his mother had entered the room.
We hopped out a window and stayed there, waiting for Tipkin to give us the all clear.
There were ten grueling minutes where Ezra and I had to pretend to be our past selves to any circling guards, and then we climbed back to our hiding spots inside the building. It was directly before we heard a gunshot from Mrs Jonas’s office — when I had shot my uncle. The timing could not have been better.
I would like to say that I waited patiently for the f**ker Philip to arrive. But I did not.
I seriously hoped today would be the day he died.
My foot wanted to tap in anticipation so badly, but I pressed my body to hold still, working on sheer willpower alone. But the smile that etched my lips was danger peeking, and I glanced at the men sitting on either side of me. I whispered, “Philip’s always had a king complex, and this is King Hall. If he dies here today, it would be the perfect tomb for a wannabe king. One of his own making.” My grin widened. “King Tomb.”
Ezra chuckled softly. “That’s perfect.”
I shrugged a shoulder. “I thought so.”
Ezra’s lips twitched.
My brows puckered. “What?”
He actually patted the top of my head.
Like I was a cute five-year-old instead of a fully grown woman holding a gun.
I bared my teeth, but I remained mute of any further comment.
In the silence, we waited.
Just when I became antsy again, two explosions shook the building.
And we saw him creep around the corner of the long hallway.
The three of us lifted to our feet.
I had a gun aimed, as did Ezra.
Tipkin’s hands were free so he could transverse us out of here before the rubble took us.
Ever so slowly, we stalked to the cracked door.
Philip was removing a backpack he wore. He silently unzipped it.
Ezra had been right. There was a bomb inside that he was activating.
The third explosion shook the building beneath our feet.
Still, we waited as he was. He wasn’t advancing on the room yet, just tapping his foot.
I knew there hadn’t been any gunshots inside the building before it had gone down.
Time ticked ever so gradually while I breathed steadily. My veins were as cold as ice as I watched Philip, his shirt still streaked in his blood from Tipkin’s arrow. That bit of blood made my wolf extremely happy, while the woman in me wanted there to be much more by the time we were through.
His foot stopped tapping, and he turned, running straight for the room, his eyes glowing.
All three of us raced from the room.
Ezra and I were right next to each other, with Tipkin directly on our heels; his hands were already on our shoulders, linking us to him.
Seeing us, Philip stumbled in his sprint, coming to an abrupt halt.
From inside the office, Antonio shouted, “Wait! One more! Get down!”
Just as the last explosion hit, we fired.
My shot went wide, my balance off from the blast that hit the building.
But Ezra’s aim was true. His bullet pierced Philip right through the chest.
Tipkin glowed a brilliant gold.
As his sphere began to engulf us, we watched as Philip flew back.
The ceiling was already crashing down. It was beautiful.
Still grinning like a fiend, even with dust covering me, I didn’t care that I was knocked over by Elder Jacobs’s power of wind when we transversed back to the present. Staring at the shimmering night sky, I shouted a whooping holler and wiggled on the grass where I lay on my back. Tipkin had brought us to the time directly after we had left. Cahal and Elder Merrick’s predators were even still growling, only abruptly cutting off as they stared at the three of us on the ground.
Tipkin’s head rested on my stomach. He chuckled quietly. “Bye-bye.” He disappeared.
Ezra grunted, then he tilted his head toward me. “He’s dead.”
“Mm-hmm,” I hummed happily. “You took that bastard down!”
His lips slowly curved in a wicked smile. “Yes, I did.”
I lifted a finger. “Don’t forget. I did help.” Ezra would not have gone with Tipkin if I had not given my word to go. I made a fist. “King Tomb, baby!”
His gaze twinkled as he fist-bumped me. “King Tomb.”
Antonio cleared his throat. “What just happened? Who’s dead?”
I wiggled again, then I shouted in glee, “Philip Masterson is dead!”
Chapter Eighteen
Ezra and I sat across from our best friends.
When we had initially seen them, we had hardly recognized them.
It had been so damn hard not to react at first sight, but I was now different.
As was Ezra.
He and I were ruthless. And cold. In public.
In private…not so much. Mmm.
We had assembled in a meeting at King Mile with Antonio, Cahal, Elder Merrick, Elder Jacobs, the four Elders who had created the peace treaty after the first war…and Jack and Pearl.
Ezra and I had explained what had happened in our blast to the past.
The decision had been unanimous.
With the last Beast farm taken out, and our new intel, we knew how to end this war.
The spelled letters were already sent worldwide to the other Elders of our game plan.
Elder f**king Harcourt’s own personal letter to us had arrived just after we had decided as a group. His correspondence had stated that he agreed with our decision. I had torn up his letter in the hope that he would arrive to vindicate the action, but not surprisingly, the old Mage had not shown so that I could strangle him.
And slice him.
And burn him.
And let my wolf feast on his charred bones.
Jackass.
Now, we still sat in the conference room, having asked Jack and Pearl to stay afterward.
They had politely agreed, utterly no recognition of our lives ‘before’ in their actions.
Their personal physiques did not appear any different; this war had not physically harmed them. But their eyes were those of a cold-blooded killer. For most of the meeting they had been silently eyeballing us, and each other, evaluating with indifference. My heart wanted to break seeing them like this…but I had the cure to fix it fisted in my hand under the table.
Ezra sat next to me, watching them just as coolly as I was. He did not waste time inside this privacy-spelled room. He got straight to the point, watching them where they sat across from us. His words were blunt. “Queen Ruckler and I know that you both had a memory wipe.”
Instantly, they both went still. If it were possible, their eyes turned even more chilling.
My lips pinched. “We know this because the same happened to us.” My gaze flicked back and forth between them. “The four of us…we know each other. The two of you just can’t remember it right now.” I lifted my hand up from under the table, showing them the vials. “Elder Harcourt did this to us, and he’s also gifted us the cure for it. King Zeller and I have already drunk ours. We now have our memories back. Once the two of you drink yours, the spell that Elder Harcourt originally enacted will be broken.”