The sound lanced through him, not coming from the outside world but somehow within the spellcaster’s head. He pitched forward with the shock of it, hands going to head. It was a human sound, a wail of pain, the collective terror of every life extinguished by the creature outside, higher than microphone feedback and more skull-grinding than a freight train grinding against track. And it was over as quickly as it had begun, making James doubt where he heard it at all.
He looked at Celeste. Around the room. Nothing was out of place, but he wasn’t the only one to wear a blanched look on their face. James pressed the heel of his hand to his temple. “Did you hear that?”
Not knowing why, he looked out the window of the diner, past their reflections, certain that whatever made it was beyond that thick piece of glass. James jostled the table in his rush to stand up. Coffee sloshed over the rim of his mug.