DANTE

Even though I could feel my body giving out, I still tried to pull myself up for another breath. It was pointless. The last one was the last one. As my body began to shut down and my eyes blurred, a man holding a painfully bright light came from the sanctuary door. He rushed down the steps towards me, and with a quick throw of his arm, flung the bright white light at me. The light, actually a sword, broke my shackles when the burning blade pierced the wall. A second later, the man helped me up. “What?” I breathed out. “What’s happening?”

There was something familiar about his southern accent. “Everything's fine, Dante. I need you to stay calm while I get us out of here.”

Gaining energy from oxygen flowing through my lungs, my vision finally cleared. “Aren't you--you're Aidan's friend.”

Before the tall, red-haired guy could respond, the sword still in the stone wall turned black and then switched back to bright white. “That's not good. We gotta go.”

Aidan’s friend slung me over his shoulder like I weighed nothing. After my rescuer pulled his sword out of the wall, he placed the tip of the illuminated blade at the top of his spine. He lowered the sword and it disappeared into thin air. “There are two very dark somethings headed this way. I’ll hang on to you while we head in the opposite direction, but you’re gonna wanna hold your breath.”

Having gotten used to holding on to each breath like it was my last, I took in just enough not to strain my lungs. A second later, we rocketed through The French Quarter and away from the Saint Louis Cathedral.