I brace myself and ignite my Lumen all over my body. If this thing wants to make a meal out of me, I’m going to make sure I burn going down. As long as I can jump past those rows of teeth, I can probably burn my way right through the thing. Getting swallowed by a Mogadorian centipede isn’t my best plan, admittedly, but in the seconds I have before it’s right on top of me, it’s the best I can come up with.

As it gets closer, I see a red dot reflected in the centipede’s eye, like the beam from a laser pointer. Where is that coming from?

A single gunshot explodes from somewhere behind me.

The monster’s eye explodes. It’s just a few yards from me, and I’m splashed with foul-smelling eye goop. It shrieks and rears up, forgetting all about me. I use the opportunity to backpedal, lobbing fireballs at the creature’s underbelly as I go. The beast starts convulsing, its tail thrashing with enough force to make the ground under my feet shake. After one last, massive spasm, the centipede collapses into the dirt and begins to slowly disintegrate.

Five lands next to me, both of his hands on top of his head. “Dude, I am so sorry I dropped you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I reply distractedly, pushing him aside and spinning towards the Monster Mart. No one with us was packing a sniper rifle. Where did the shot come from?

Six and Sarah rush towards a tall middle-aged man with a beard as he climbs down from the top of a beat-up old car. He’s holding a rifle with a laser scope. At first I think maybe he’s just a Good Samaritan—who wouldn’t shoot a giant worm creature if it was rampaging through their neighborhood? Then again, there’s something about him that seems really familiar.

And then I notice someone else standing next to the car. He’s helping the older man down from his sniper’s position. When Six gets near she almost tackles him with a hug. My jaw drops and I immediately break into a run.

It’s Sam.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

SIX HUGS ME SO HARD THAT I ALMOST FALL over. Her arms are wrapped around my neck, and my hands are splayed across her back. The back of her shirt is sweaty from the battle the Garde just fought, but I don’t mind that at all. I’m more focused on the way her blond hair brushes gently across my cheek. Those daydreams that I occupied myself with back when I was being held prisoner? A lot of them featured a scene just like this one.

“Sam,” Six whispers, stunned, holding on to me like I might disappear, “you’re here.”