Explosion

Static bursts from three different walkies at once, creating a cacophony of urgent voices in the SUV's confined space.

"Contact, northwest quadrant—"

"—negative visual on primary targets—"

"—maintain distance, do not engage—"

I press my face against the cool window, scanning the sky for massive wings or scaled bodies. Nothing but clouds and empty air greet my searching gaze. The absence of visible threats unnerves me more than seeing them would. At least then I'd know where they are.

Princess Paws shifts in my arms, her tiny claws pricking through my shirt. The purple lines beneath my skin have settled into faint traces, no longer burning or pulsing. My thoughts sharpen, the fog of pain lifting enough to process our situation.

"Alpha team, maintain formation." Logan's voice pierces through the radio chatter. "Keep eyes on—"