by Unknown
She curled in on herself, pressing hard against her chest in an attempt to suppress the excruciating pain.
“I’m sorry,” Hunter said. “I’m so sorry.” His fingers tightened in her grip, pulling her back toward him. “I have to close the portal, Mackenzie. Whether or not your brother is inside.”
She stared up at him, not caring that her emotions shone bare in her eyes, and Hunter said softly, “It cannot change, Mackenzie. There is too much riding on this one thing.”
Her eyes fell closed, lashes brushing her cheeks. The wind whispered past, time slipping slowly away. Too late, Krea had said. It was too late.
Mackenzie drew her hand from Hunter’s grip, shrugging her shoulders back as she clutched the neck of her shirt. She did not see his response when she pulled the material aside to show him what it had been hiding. She couldn’t look into his eyes when she displayed the wound on her own flesh.
But she felt it, the change in the air, the prickle on her skin. It crawled over her, sizzling with power, humming through her body and tingling, teasing her awareness.
And then he was touching her, sighing her name, and she had to keep them closed, pressed tight as he pulled her to his chest.
“That’s why,” he breathed into her hair. “That’s what Krea meant. How you weren’t crushed. Oh, gods, Mackenzie. Oh, gods.”
“It was Azral,” she said. “That day in the park. I didn’t realize then, I didn’t know what it meant.” Hunter stiffened at the mention of Azral’s name, but she kept talking. “I was only thinking of Riley, only what it meant for him. I didn’t even… I thought it was just an accident, the graze of his claws as he dropped me.” She hiccupped a breath, though she wasn’t crying, and Hunter eased back to look at her face. “I didn’t know. Not until Krea tried to dress me in that cape.”
Hunter brushed a thumb over Mackenzie’s cheek and she leaned into the touch. “I can feel it,” she said. “I can feel it moving through every part of you.” Her gaze found his. “And I can feel the gateway.”
His eyes said everything she thought they would. You’re one of us. It’s too late.
But his words were kinder, his hands gentle on her back. “It’s the energy,” he said. “It can’t hurt you here.” He pulled her tight into his arms. “Come on, let me take you home.”
Chapter Twenty-four
Hunter hadn’t said a word as he carried Mackenzie back to her childhood home. He hadn’t said a word as she’d walked in, returning to a place she thought she’d never see again, and stood in the center of the kitchen where she’d deposited him nearly a week before. When she finally turned to him, he said, “I’m sorry. If I had known…”
But Mackenzie could see there was nothing he could have done. It was too late.
Hunter stepped toward her, his voice low. “There are dangerous things happening in the dying lands, Mackenzie. Once the reaping is through I don’t think I can ever reopen the gate. And even if I could, if the gateway isn’t close to alignment, no one else could come through.”
Not even monsters. Not even her.
Mackenzie winced, nodded. “I can feel it drawing me to it,” she said.
He took her arms, forcing her to look at him. “There might be a way, some chance of you tethering yourself here. It won’t be easy, but now that you’ve turned, now that you’ve been in the dying lands long enough the energy has had a chance to change you…” She felt a spike of the power flash through her, and he said, “It will be the hardest thing you’ve ever done. And it will hurt you.”
His words said it was a risk, but Mackenzie could see the goodbye in his eyes. He must have believed she could do it.
She could stay in her world.
“The magic will ebb,” he said. “If you make it, eventually there will be nothing left.”
“And I’ll just be me?” she asked.
He smiled, but it couldn’t reach his eyes. “As much as you can ever be after this.”
And Riley would be pulled through. Nothing could be done to stop it. “So the reaping?”
“It’s close,” he answered. “It won’t be long.”
Not long enough. “If I can just see Riley first, to tell him goodbye…”
Hunter closed his eyes, another apology. “The army are quarantining the Marked. They don’t know what it means.”
It felt like one more punch in the gut, and Mackenzie stepped into Hunter’s arms, desperate for support. “And it won’t work,” she said.
“No,” Hunter answered, his chin resting over the crown of her head. “That plan assumes there is no force that can draw them here. Your army and those around the world are entirely unprepared for what will happen. Even what measures they’ve taken are with the assumption they will only be fighting what Iron Bound are already on this side. They’ve no protection from the rest of us. Hundreds of thousands will be Marked and taken in the blink of an eye.”
Like magic.
“What happens when they try to fight?” Mackenzie whispered into his chest.
“They’ll be killed.”
She could tell by his tone there was nothing to be done. Like the reaping. Like everything else. She was on the tip of a rollercoaster heading over the edge, the constant stomach-dropping jolt of that first big fall. Only it was never going to end.
“Riley will be pulled through,” she said numbly. “Gone.”
Hunter slid his hand to the side of her neck, tilting her chin up to look at him. “I do not choose the Marked. I cannot stop the gateway from taking him, but I swear to you, Mackenzie, I will do my best to look after your brother.” For eternity.
Then she remembered that beast they’d called a king, Hunter’s warning that they might both be killed. Her fingers tightened into him. Riley was gone—since the day he’d left to fight them, since the day he’d been scratched. It was over for him. But he would live. In a world apart from this. But he would live.
And Hunter, this strange, wounded boy who was a king among monsters, Hunter might die. He and Mackenzie had a price on their heads in his dying realm.
Mackenzie stared into Hunter’s blue, blue eyes, feeling and seeing everything at a pace beyond the natural, and knew they only had a matter of hours. She let her gaze trail over him, memorizing every detail of his face. And then she pressed into him, rising to her toes and wrapping her hands behind his neck. She could not have gotten closer, but it felt as if it would never be close enough. The promise of what might have been was gone. “I will miss you,” she whispered. “Almost more than anything else.”
Hunter’s expression changed, but Mackenzie didn’t wait to examine whether it was pain or joy or something else entirely. She would close her eyes and meet his lips and touch and feel and be with Hunter. For what little time they had left.
Hunter’s palm flattened across the small of her back, holding her close for that kiss. But then his hands shifted, sliding to her waist to press her back to her feet as he breathed her name.
“I have to show you,” he said. “I have to teach you the tethering.”
There was only a sliver of air between them, but it was a thousand needles and she was moving to press against him once more. That was when she saw the regret in his eyes. It was too important to save her. They were running out of time.
“Kenzie,” he said. “If you don’t do this right, you’ll be killed.”
She wet her lips, resisting the desire to pretend the danger wasn’t real. Her hands slid down his arms, her eyes seeing again the traces of light pulsing beneath his skin. “Killed,” she repeated. “Right.”
“You can do it,” he offered. “I know you can.”
Because if she didn’t, she would die. Doing it wrong might rip her to shreds, or she’d be dragged through a gateway where a monster king in another realm would. The tethering had to work; she would have to do this thing because there was no other scenario in which she lived.
No pressure, she wanted to say. But her lungs were leagues beneath the surface. She nodded and
Hunter spun her to lean back against the counter, her palms pressing over the chipped laminate edge. He stood in front of her, so close, and traced the line of her mark.
“Here,” he said, brushing a finger down the bone at its center. “That’s where you’ll feel it.” She shivered—not entirely due to the energy—and he explained the threads of magic running through her. “You cannot let it go,” he said. “You have to use every part of your being.”
She would, she knew that. This was her home, her world. This was everything. There was no other way to be alive, to be what she was. And above all, Mackenzie was human.
Wasn’t she?
Hunter’s fingers trailed her skin, the impression of his energy prickling every fiber within her. She could still feel the gateway, but his touch was overshadowing that insistent pull. His touch said here, now.
The gateway said soon.
She let him explain the process, hanging on his every word. It was no small thing, this tethering, and it certainly was going to hurt.
“They must stay secure,” he said of her bonds. “If one breaks, if something were to slip…”
She’d be crushed. Torn. Severed beyond repair.
Ash.
Her questions were bigger than the tethering, but she left them unasked. Hunter could no more know the future than any of them, and he had his own problems that she—if she were being honest with herself—was keeping him from. As his hands brushed her flesh, tugging those strange sensations of thread, she knew their time was drawing to an end. He would be gone. Just like Riley. All of it was coming to an end.
Mackenzie would be alone to pick up the pieces of her shattered world.
But she would be alive.
Hunter’s touch slid higher, tracing the delicate skin of her neck. His warm palm molded to her skin, his thumb stroking the line of her jaw. “You can do this,” he told her. “I know you can.”
“You said that,” she answered, finding his eyes—so beyond their usual blue.
He wanted to say something more, she could see that. But they only stood there, suspended in a moment that could never come to a happy end.
Mackenzie could feel the gateway shifting, its power a current beneath her skin, and Hunter leaned forward, closing his eyes to press his forehead to hers.
It was time for goodbye.
Her head tilted upward, lips finding his, lingering—until both of them stilled, the sound of diesel engines resonating somewhere far off outside.
Hunter cursed. Or at least she thought he did. She hadn’t exactly gotten the hang of their language. And then the strangeness of it sank in. After all this time, someone was driving across the destroyed land that used to be their town.
“What is it?” she asked, her voice low in the stillness of the kitchen.
He shook his head. “The army must have found the gateway. The spikes in the energy would have led them here.”
And now they’d all be killed. Wasn’t that what Hunter had said, if they tried to fight it?
Hunter stepped back from her, running a hand over his hair as he scanned the kitchen, eyes landing on that glittering pony backpack and Riley’s tee-shirt.
Mackenzie walked past him, down the hall and to the front entrance to see what waited outside. She could hear the engines, probably a half dozen blocks away. Drawing the front curtain aside, she peered out a slit between fabric and frame to find an irregular column of soldiers jogging across the scarred earth in the distance. It was an endless swath of muddy grass and patches of concrete that had once been her neighborhood. Though far away, the soldiers seemed too small, too thin, young in a way that made her imagine this was their first mission. Because it was a mission, wasn’t it? A war against monsters. A call to find their source.
“Took them long enough,” Mackenzie muttered into the glass.
Hunter didn’t respond. In the kitchen, she thought, making plans as she stared beyond boarded windows, watching time march by.
A particularly short figure caught her eye, helmet sliding forward to reveal a dark braid. The soldier’s delicate hand lifted to push the helmet back in place, and Mackenzie realized it was a girl. Behind her, several paces back, was a larger form with pale freckled skin, his shape appearing more like the others in their group. All of them reminded her of teenage boys: their gangly limbs and the awkward way they wielded rifles, their bulky army-issue boots hitting the grass with eager steps.
She couldn’t help but look for Riley, even though she remembered her mistake with Hunter that day in the park. She’d acted first, thrown herself into a stupid, dangerous situation by giving in to those fears. This wasn’t Riley, not among all these soldiers. Not out of all of the troops in all of their world. Not here, not heading for her own front yard.
A third figure edged toward the smaller one, scanning the expanse of broken civilization. The movement was so familiar it ached, but it couldn’t be Riley.
The boy’s head turned toward her, his gaze trained right on the house, and Hunter jerked Mackenzie back from the window by her arm. “You can’t get caught if you’re to be tethered.”
His warning was right, and she felt foolish for risking them both. The Marked were being quarantined. She could be taken, unable to tie herself in this realm.
She swallowed hard. Nodded. “This is the only house left standing. I don’t know what they’re looking for on the ground, but I’m sure they’ll come here.”
Hunter’s grip slid to her hand. “I’ll keep you hidden.” His words were low, careful. It was a promise. “You will be safe.”
They were near the kitchen, moving through the threshold of her basement door when she heard the voice. A thrill of terror shot through her, unable to let her hope. Hunter kept moving, his grip firm on her hand. But it had been too familiar.
No warning from Hunter could unfreeze her step.
“Riley,” she whispered.
Hunter’s eyes narrowed. Boots scuffled on the drive. “Mackenzie,” he hissed. “You need to get inside.”
His meaning was clear. Riley was gone. He might have been dead, or quarantined, or anything that was not just outside her door.
He was right. Of course he was right. Heart pounding, she nodded, finding his gaze for the long instant it took to restart her feet into action.
And then the scrape of rock sliding across rock, those ancient concrete edgers, so quiet through the layers of wall she shouldn’t have even heard it. But she had and her breath hitched, turning instantly to that wheezing catch that heralded an unrestrained sob.
Key hit metal, tumbler releasing lock, and Mackenzie was moving for the door.
Only one person knew where that hidden key was. Only one person could be coming inside.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The plank floor of the hall fell into the living room rug and Mackenzie waited frozen as the newcomer opened the door.
It was no surprise that she hadn’t entirely recognized him in the distance among a troop of boys. His skin was flushed with color, his hair a razored buzz. But it was him. Covered from wrist to ankle in beige camouflage, rifle at his side.
Riley.
She ran to him, his arms going wide as she slammed into him, wrapping herself around her brother in a death-grip of a hug. She laughed. Or sobbed. Or made some ridiculous, hiccupping sound that was a mixture of the two. And then she choked it off, remembering that she could not be found. Still wrapped around him, she kicked the door closed with her foot.
Riley. God, it was really him. She pushed back to look at his face, pressing a palm to each cheek and whimpering just the slightest bit. And then she squeezed, hissing, “Don’t you ever do that again.”
His face, blank at the shock, curled into its customary grin.
“Kenz,” he said, finally taking her in. His smile fell, gaze finding the smears of blood and dirt across her forehead and chin. She could see the change in his expression, when his thoughts went from what happened to I never should have left.
She shook
her head, pulling free of him to rub the back of her hand over the blood on her skin. “It’s not mine.”
He blinked, and she realized that was possibly not a better explanation.
“It’s fine,” she said. “We’re okay. You’re okay.”
A stab of anguish nearly caused her to weep, but she bit down hard, glancing away and running a hand over her mess of hair. The hallway was empty, their house, their home a scattered mess. She drew a breath that felt like fire, but made her gaze go back to Riley. “Your hair,” she said.
He chuckled self-consciously, rubbing a hand across the top. “They never gave me a mirror, so…”
“It looks good.”
Her smile gave away the lie and he laughed. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” he said. His voice broke and he cleared his throat, but kept on. “I’m sorry I left you, Kenzie. I’m so sorry that you were alone—”
She grabbed his covered arm, the one with the mark beneath. “What happened? How is this okay with them?” She saw it in his expression, the smallest shake of his head. They didn’t know.
She glanced at the shuttered window, the closed front door. Something about his response made her feel particularly unsafe. “Riley, what are you doing here?”
“They think they’ve found ground zero. They’ve got scientists, equipment coming in. We’re supposed to clear the area, make way for trucks and supplies.”
Mackenzie pressed down the panic at imagined missiles and rockets and more and more soldiers outside. “They can’t be here,” she warned him. “Riley, you’ve all got to leave. Now.”
He opened his mouth, but her brother’s voice didn’t come as his focus fell over her shoulder. It was Hunter, she could feel it. Riley’s fingers tightened on his rifle and Mackenzie’s hand shot out, stopping him. “No,” she whispered. “He’s one of us.”
She didn’t know why she said it, but another stab ran through her, because it was so much truer than she’d realized.
She turned to find Hunter, prince of the monsters, glorious and deadly… and wearing Riley’s shirt. She shook her head. “Ry, this is Hunter. He’s going to keep us safe.” She had on her “mom” voice and she knew it, but this was about as serious as things could ever get. “You have to listen to him. Do what he says. No. Matter. What.”
