Collin crashed into the floor, white-hot pain exploding along his back. He didn’t even hear the gun go off, nor his own scream as the bullet lodged in his shoulder. It wasn’t a fatal wound, but it was enough to make the young witch crumple. That was all the time the two hunters needed to grab hold of him and slam him into the wall.
Collin had no idea how this happened, but it seemed his assailants just let him run so they could have the pleasure of shooting him. They were in the least populated area of the coven, and no one was around to hear the ambush. It caught Collin completely off guard. Not that his being on guard would have done much for him.
His eyes were still watering from the previous blows to his face, so it wasn’t obvious that he was starting to tear up. There were two hands twisting his arms, a knee pressing into his abdomen, and a gun pressed to his temple. He tried to hiss out a spell as quickly as possible, then a hand pressed to his mouth.“Tranquilize him,” the one to his left snapped.
Those words gave Collin more reason to struggle, but it was useless. The gun lowered and, a few seconds later, he registered a needlepoint pinch in his neck. Collin took the risk and tried to set his attackers on fire, if only for a few seconds. But the flames were shaky, pathetic, as small as a candle perched on their shoulders and feet. And then they went out and Collin couldn't ignite anything more. "What... What?"
