“Let them go, Aren,” she says with a smile. “Your nalkinshom is responsible for what happens to her.”
Well, shit. If Lena’s willing to let me walk away, then Naito’s telling the truth. These humans aren’t interested in helping me. But then, I have Tom. He’ll tell them what I’ve done here. That has to count for something.
“Shoot them,” the human says, trying to sit up. Naito shoves him back down.
“Sethan,” I say without taking my eyes away from my target. “If you want your sister to live, you’ll let me and Tom go.”
It’s too quiet while I wait for Sethan’s response, and gravity seems to be toying with the gun in my hand, adding to its weight little by little until my shoulders ache. I’m barely keeping it trained on Lena’s chest.
“Very well,” Sethan says. “Naito.”
When Naito moves, my eyes flicker to Tom. My mistake. The moment I look away from Lena, Aren darts forward. He knocks the pistol from my hand and captures my wrist before my brain registers he’s moved. He advances and I stumble until he presses me against the wall. My arm is caught between my sweat-soaked slip and his silver-dusted chest. As his edarratae leap into me, I use my free hand to try to push him away, but my palm slips across his blood-slick shoulder. His grip on my wrist tightens.
“You’re becoming increasingly difficult to keep alive,” he says, his voice low, his eyes burning inches from mine. “Stay here. Do not move.”
My knees are jelly when he lets me go. He returns to Tom, who’s staring at me with more than a little disappointment. I don’t blame him.
“Sorry,” I mouth.
“Never hesitate,” he says. “If you have another opportunity, you take it.”
Naito retrieves the gun off the floor, flicks the safety back on, then stuffs it deep into the pocket of his jeans. “She won’t have another opportunity.”
Tom focuses on him with his one good eye.
“Kill these demons, Naito. Kill them and your father will let you come home.”
The corner of Naito’s mouth quirks up into a mirthless smile. “I think I’ll pass.”
“We outnumber you. We can wait you out. Your fae can’t fissure away for food or help. They’re going to die here. Don’t waste your life.”
Naito turns his attention to Sethan. “You think they’re working with the Court?”
“I think the Court is using them to find McKenzie,” Sethan says. “Atroth would rather have her killed than risk her helping us.”
“Atroth knows I’ll never help you,” I say. Aren throws a warning look my way, but I haven’t moved an inch from where he ordered me to stay.
“You’re mistaken.” Sethan’s words are punctuated by a rumble of thunder. His statement is so matter-of-fact I can’t come up with a response. A tiny kernel of doubt chips away at my faith.
“I’ll make a deal,” Tom says. I’m relieved when all eyes turn back to him. “I’ll talk to Nakano about letting you surrender. He might let some of you go. The women maybe.”
Naito snorts. “Clemency from my father? I’m not a child anymore, Tom. I know what kind of man he is.”
Tom wipes his sleeve across his face, smearing blood from his nose and mouth across his cheek. “But what kind of man are you? You’re going to let your girl and the human die when you might be able to help them? You prolong this fight and your father won’t have any choice but to kill all of you.”
Aren takes a step toward the vigilante. “Why are you so eager for our surrender? You have us surrounded. You said yourself you can wait us out.”
Tom crawls to his overturned chair. He rights it and then slowly pulls himself into the seat. He settles in with a grimace. “We can.”
I want to throw myself between Aren and the human. Tom’s hurt too badly. I don’t want Aren to rough him up more. I don’t want to hear him scream or smell burning flesh again, but I stay in my assigned spot by the kitchen counter.
“Something’s going to happen,” Aren says. “What?”
I start to interrupt, but a cough wracks through my chest. I cover my mouth with the back of my hand and notice my skin’s become coated with silver dust. It’s thick in the air down here and it’s probably doing some serious harm to my health. There’s no escaping breathing it in, though.
Another rumble of thunder shakes the inn. That’s when the vigilante’s lie clicks.
“It’s going to rain,” I say.
The kitchen’s inhabitants stare. I wait for one of them to ask why the hell I’m concerned about the weather, but one by one, they get it, too.
Tom bursts from his chair. “You fae-fucking bitch!”
NINE
AREN LEAPS INTO Tom’s path. The human comes to a sudden stop, his one good eye widening over Aren’s shoulder. I don’t realize he’s dead—no, dying—until Aren gives him a firm shove back. His dagger makes a sucking sound as it slides from Tom’s chest. A fountain of red spurts from the wound and splatters on the linoleum floor.
Tom collapses, and I can do nothing but stare as his life ebbs away in a puddle of crimson. This is my fault. I should have kept my mouth shut.
I’m only able to wrest my eyes away from the dead human when Naito grabs Kelia’s arm, pulling her to the kitchen sink. He twists on the faucet, cups a handful of water, and then splashes it over her shoulder, wiping at the gray dust coating her skin.
“If we clean you up and wait for the rain to settle the silver, you should be able to fissure out.”
Aren steps over Tom’s body. “If we know the storm’s coming, they know it’s coming, too. They’ll make their move before then.”
Naito cups another handful of water. “You have to hold them off. They won’t stand a chance once you can fissure. Don’t conserve your arrows. Kill anything that moves.” He abandons his method of bathing Kelia, grabs her hands, and thrusts them into the sink.
She sucks in a breath. “It’s cold, Naito.”
“I know, baby, but we need to get the silver off you.”
“A shower will be quicker,” Sethan says. “We’ll need to change into clean clothes, too, and wash the dust out of the inn.”
Aren nods. “We’ll clean up in shifts. You three first. Take McKenzie with you.”
I don’t like being shuffled up the stairs—I just want to be left alone—but I’m relieved to get away from Tom’s body. I hunker down in the hallway in the middle of the second floor, hug my knees to my chest, and listen for rain. All I hear is intermittent gunfire. I half expect to feel the pierce of bullets, but there must be enough walls and piping to keep them from passing all the way through the inn.
The fae shower and change clothes. Aren’s the last one who comes upstairs. He’s carrying a jaedric cuirass, a clean wool shirt, and pants. He doesn’t glance at me as he shuts himself inside the bathroom. I stand and start to walk farther down the hall, not wanting to be near the door when he exits. The idea of finding a closet to hide in appeals to me more than it did earlier. It’s probably the safest place for me.
“You’ll fissure out as soon as you’re able to,” Naito’s voice carries down from the third floor.
“You know better than that.” Kelia descends the stairs after him.
“They won’t kill me.”
“That’s a lie. If you shoot at them, they’ll shoot at you.”
He reaches the second-floor landing, grips the rail. “Then get out of here so I don’t have a reason to shoot.”
“Not without you.”
“Damn it, Kelia,” Naito explodes. “My father will take his time slaughtering you!”
A throat clears. I glance to my right, see Aren standing in the bathroom doorway. “You two will have to fight about this later. I need you at the back door, Naito. Kelia, you stay with Sethan.” He holds up his hand when she starts to protest. “Just until he fissures out. After that, do as you please. McKenzie.” He turns to me, opens his mouth to say something, stops. He clears his throat again. “Stay away from the windows.”
&nb
sp; “They’re coming!” someone shouts from downstairs.
Aren sprints for the staircase.
“You’ll fissure out,” Naito says, then he grabs Kelia by the nape of her neck and pulls her into a fierce kiss.
She looks breathless when he releases her, slightly disoriented when he rushes off to chase Aren down the stairs. After a moment in which she masks her emotions, she turns to me. “Sethan’s upstairs. Come on.”
By “upstairs” Kelia means the attic. We climb the ladder to the low-ceilinged loft. Lena’s up here, too. She hands Kelia a sword, then gives me a glare that seems to trigger a rumble of thunder. The soft pitter-patter of rain begins on the rooftop. It’ll wash the silver dust out of the air and off the inn’s outside walls.
I take a half step away from Lena, afraid she’ll accidentally open a fissure right where I’m standing. Her edarratae flare, but no slash of light breaks through the attic’s dim glow.
“It might take some time,” Sethan says.
Lena paces. “We don’t have time. The humans’ guns are more accurate; they have more ammunition. Aren’s not invincible—”
“I know that.”
“He takes too many risks. He never should have brought her here.”
Stress doesn’t do good things for my patience. I cross my arms and meet her glare. “This isn’t my fault.”
“They’re your people,” she says. “It was your tech that led them here.”
“Your people.” I make the words sound like a racial slur. “Kidnapped me. And the vigilantes are no more my people than they are Naito’s.”
“Yet you were going to shoot us all so you could escape.”
I snort. “No, not all of you. Just you.”
A flash to my right cuts off Lena’s retort. A fissure rips through the air beside Sethan. After a moment of stunned silence, he nods to his sister, steps into the light, and disappears. Lena opens her own exit a second later and vanishes, too. My fingers itch to draw the shadows, but I have no pen or paper. Without sketching what I see, all I know is they’ve fissured to the Realm, to a province in the west, I think.
Kelia taps her sword on the ground and stares at the space where Sethan stood.
“Naito will never forgive himself if you die,” I tell her. Her silver eyes rise to meet mine. Edarratae flash across a tensed jaw.
“Then I better not die,” she says softly. Then, more firmly, “Let’s go.”
She gestures to the ladder. I’m tempted to refuse to leave, but I saw the rage in Tom’s eyes when he sprang at me. If the other vigilantes are as mad as he was, reasoning with them won’t work.
I heave out a sigh and make my way down the ladder, then the stairs. I almost slip when I reach the ground floor. The entryway is wet. All the first floor is. There’s still some silver glistening in the water, but the rebels managed to wash most of it away.
“This way,” Kelia says.
I follow her toward the back of the inn, ducking beneath the windows we pass. Naito’s at the back door. Aren is, too. He yanks me to the floor as soon as I enter the narrow washroom.
“Stay low,” he orders.
“I am staying low,” I snap back.
A flicker of some unidentifiable emotion shines in his eyes when I move away from him.
He says something in Fae to Naito. A second later, he and Kelia open fissures and disappear.
“They’re going to create a diversion,” Naito tells me. “When they start fissuring in the clearing, we’ll run for the trail. Aren and a few others will try to keep our path clear, but don’t stop moving.”
He rises up a little to keep a watch out the small window in the back door. Tom’s pistol is in his hand. His fingers are wrapped tightly around its grip. The firm set of his jaw indicates he’s willing to use it if necessary.
“Would your father really kill you?”
He glances at me, gives a short nod. “Yeah. He would.”
“You were a vigilante when you met Kelia?”
His expression softens at the mention of her name. “Yeah.”
Gunfire strafes our side of the inn and pings off pipes in the wall. I flatten myself on the ground, close my eyes, and pray for it to stop. In a few, long seconds, it does.
Naito shakes glass from his hair. The door’s window is completely blown out now.
The silence that follows makes me uneasy, especially when it stretches out over several minutes. I want to throw open the door and take my chances, but the rational part of my brain tells me to wait. To distract myself, I ask, “You two are happy together?”
“Yeah.” He rises to peek outside again.
“Even though most fae don’t like humans?”
“Most Court fae don’t like humans,” he corrects me. “That’s the king’s fault. He thinks we’re destroying their magic.”
“We are destroying their magic.” We’re at least damaging it.
“No. It’s cyclical. The Realm’s magic grows stronger in some centuries, weaker in others.” Naito sinks back down and studies me. “Why so many questions? You thinking about getting involved with a fae?”
“Of course not,” I say quickly. I’ve heard Naito’s theory before; fae use it to excuse the little souvenirs they take back to their world.
“I highly recommend it,” he continues. “Sex with the edarratae . . .” He shakes his head and a small smile tugs at his lips. “Trust me, you’d love it. You’d never want to be with a human again.”
I glance away, hoping Naito doesn’t notice my cheeks flushing with heat. That’s when I see two big, unblinking blue eyes staring at me. Sosch. He’s huddled in the gap between the hot-water heater and the wall.
I stretch my hand out. It’s the only invitation he needs. With a chirp-squeak, he darts into my arms. The poor thing is covered in silver dust and trembling.
“He’ll slow you down,” Naito says.
He’s right. I should leave him behind, but the grudge I’ve been holding since I found him hiding in my backpack is gone. I won’t abandon him just because he belongs to Aren.
And speaking of my backpack, it was on top of the fae’s supplies in the breakfast nook. Carrying the kimki in that will be easier than running with him in my arms, so I set Sosch on the ground, ordering him to stay.
He doesn’t. As soon as I crawl away, he chirps and follows me. Fortunately, the laundry room and breakfast nook share a wall, so I have my backpack in hand within seconds. Sosch darts into it before I return to my spot by the back door.
Naito watches me zip the bag. “The vigilantes probably wouldn’t find him.”
I shrug, then reopen the zipper a little, leaving Sosch enough room to breathe and get out if he wants.
“How much longer?” I ask, slipping the backpack on.
He doesn’t need to answer. My skin tingles an instant before a fissure opens just outside the laundry room.
“Now,” the fae says.
Naito pulls me to my feet. “Stay close.”
I don’t have time to worry about jostling Sosch. We burst from the inn’s back door and into the night. Or what’s supposed to be night. The clearing is lit with fissuring fae. The white slashes of light reflect off the pouring rain. It’s like running through a field of fireworks—the grand finale—on the Fourth of July. Gunfire accentuates the shrrip, shrrip, shrrips of the fae’s fissures as they leap in and out of this world, over and over again, faster than I can track.
“Keep moving!” Naito shouts.
My vision is blurred with light and smudged with shadows. I can barely see where I’m running, and I’m terrified I’m going to sprint straight through a fissure. Where’s the damn tree line? Rain pelts my eyes, and I swear the clearing lengthens as we cross it.
“Down!”
The moment I realize I’ve been shoved to the ground, I’m yanked back up.
“Go!”
I recognize Aren’s voice this time. He pushes me after Naito, who’s scrambling to his feet. I ignore the stitch in my side, the squirm
ing kimki in my backpack, and keep running.
We make it to the trail, but if I thought the forest’s cover would ease some of my panic, I was wrong. I can’t see the vigilantes, but I can hear them. I hear their guns, their heavy breathing, their movements in the wet underbrush. They’re closing in on me. From my left. From my right. Shit, a camouflaged man steps right in front of me.
I skid to a stop as he raises his gun. Aims.
Aren fissures between us. A shot rings out. There’s a flash of steel as Aren’s sword cuts through the rain, cuts through the human.
Aren reaches back, grabs my arm, and thrusts me forward. “Follow Naito!”
I stumble over the gurgling vigilante, try to ignore the gaping slash angling from the top of his shoulder through his chest. My body wants to shut down, to stop moving. I’ve seen too much blood tonight, too much violence.
I crawl forward and then notice the little blue cell phone sticking out of the vigilante’s pocket. I tug it free—oh, God, I’m stealing from a dead guy—and bury it deep in my pocket.
Flipping my wet hair out of my face, I glance up. Naito’s just ahead. He peers over his shoulder, sees me down on all fours in the mud. I make a decision, scramble to my feet, spin, and run back toward the inn. After a few strides, I veer off the trail and carve my own path through the forest.
“McKenzie!” Naito shouts, but I’m sure he won’t follow me. He loves Kelia too much to risk her waiting for him at the gate. And Aren’s preoccupied. I should be able to escape long enough to make a phone call.
The underbrush entangles me. I shake loose, continue on, slipping and sliding over leaves and wet grass. I don’t know what direction I’m heading in, but I don’t care as long as it’s away.
The gunfire fades, and I no longer see fissures in the thick green of the forest. A hint of light peeks through the canopy above, and my pace slows when the trees thin up ahead. Cautious, I flatten myself against a thick oak and study the clearing. The inn isn’t located as deep into the forest as I imagined. An honest-to-goodness paved road lies just on the other side of the field. But running without cover makes me decidedly uneasy, especially when I’m not sure where I can find a safe haven.
The Shadow Reader ml-1 Page 10
