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3. All good things

It had been a good day, Lilian reckoned. Every day was a good day when the three of them were together.
They'd been for a walk by the stream, and she'd taught them both and about all the different plants they'd found along the way, pointing out their medicinal and magical properties. Their son was only eleven, but still had a great interest in what she was saying.
Lilian was not looking forward to the coming years when their son would get bigger and stop listening to them.
They'd come back to the cabin when the afternoon had just turned into the evening, and Lilian had made a nice roasted ham joint for the three of them to enjoy. After dinner, they'd put their son to bed, but not before she could read him a story. Her voice was soft and kind, and it soon made their son sleepy.
Now he was sat on the couch with her, watching TV.
Was it as exciting as their old lives had been? Not by a mile.
But it was better. And they were happy.
"Do you want a drink?" Lilian asked once their episode had ended.
"Sure. There's a bottle of rosé in the cupboard above the sink," she replied, a mischievous smile decorating her beautiful face.
He wandered into the kitchen, a good reflection of the rest of the house. It was elegant, but it matched the cabin aesthetic that they had been going for when the built this house twenty years ago.  Lilian found the rosé and retrieved two glasses from the adjacent cupboard.
"When did you have the time to get this?" He called out, realising he hadn't seen the bottle before.
No reply. Had she started the next episode without him? No, there was no sound coming from the living room.
Maybe she just hasn't heard him?
"Babe?" He called out.
Still nothing.
He stepped back into the living room, and caught the beam of light right on the cheek. Normally, that beam would have disintegrated his flesh and melted all the way through his head like it wasn't even there. But Lilian wasn't normal. He was nameless. Born with no true name, and completely unaffected by magic. But, he spun and fell to the ground anyway, closing his eyes and slowing his breath.
"Oh! Right in the face!" Cried a woman amongst the group of invaders.
"Go and find the boy," another said, "let's show this heretic what we do to people who defect."
From the sound of each invaders walking about, Lilian figured there were 8 of them, through one who had just gone upstairs making nine. The invaders dragged someone outside, someone whose voice was muffled by a gag.
Shit. How had they gotten the drop on her?
Once they had all gone outside, Lilian hopped up and crept towards the stairs, afraid that each stair he stepped on would creak and give him away.
But they didn't. He peaked into his son's room through the ajar door, and saw a woman with her hands lit up and pointed towards his son.
"If you don't come with me, I'm going to fry you like an egg." She had an Irish accent.
"I'm not supposed to go with strangers," his son replied, "daddy says that-"
"Shut up!" She yelled, "I killed your daddy, and I'm going to kill you if you don't shut up and come with me."
Lilian grabbed her from behind, a muscular arm wrapping around her throat and squeezing the life out of her. He didn't want his son to see this, but he didn't really have a choice.
The energy-thrower brought her hand up to either side of Lilians head and fired, but Lilian felt nothing. When she realised the grip hadn't loosened, she pointed her arms back towards his son, her palms beginning to sizzle once again.
Shit. He hated doing this, but choking wasn't acting quickly enough. He released the choke and moved his hand to the woman's chin, his other his other grabbing the back of her head. He wrenched, and the woman's neck sounded like stepping on a pile of crunchy leaves.
He turned to his son, "hide under the bed. I'll come and get you when this is over."
He left, heading towards his bedroom to get the revolver from his safe, a trinket from when he had been out west. Once he had retrieved in and ensured that his son was hidden, he exited the cabin through the back door and ran round the side of the house.
"Why is she taking so long to retrieve a simple child?" The same man as before.
There in front of him, knelt down with a gag in her mouth, binding shackles on and a gun to her head, was China Sorrows.
"She's probably just toying with him," another man said.
"Well if she's not out here in the next five seconds I'm going to-"
Lilian stepped out from behind the corner of the house, gun at hip, firing six consecutive shots, each finding their place in the head of an intruder.
Two left. One of them sprinted for him, and one of them sprinted for China. The one coming for him lit a flame in his hand and tried to shove it into Lilian's face, but having no effect. Lilian spun him and took out the knife he had pocketed in the kitchen, pressing it to the man's throat. The other man was now behind China, with the now dead leader's gun in hand.
"It would seem like we have come to an impasse," Lilian spoke first.
"That we have," the man had a slight German accent.
"You wouldn't happen to be up for trading would you?"
"Why trade for what I can just take? You may be immune to magic, but you can't be immune of lead bullets."
Lilian expected the gun to turn in his direction, but it remained at China's head. China gave a muffled cry and Lilian spun, just in time to catch a bullet to the chest. He dropped to the ground, writhing in agony.
Had he missed one? He looked up at his attacker who had a crumpled bullet on his forehead. No. He hadn't missed. This guy had clearly got some sort of -
And he slipped out of consciousness.