I could only dimly see him, his skin and light hair glowing pale in the near dark. His head lolled back. Unconscious.
I remembered Paige giving us a first aid class back when the agency opened, and I know she'd covered CPR and I know I'd been there . . . sulking because it would be a long time before I was in the field, meaning I had no use for first aid so I damned well wasn't going to listen . . .
Shit.
I looked down at the lifeless body of my brother, already going cold. I could do this. I'd seen it on TV often enough.
I pulled him to the wall, where I could brace him up as I treaded water. I cleared my nose and mouth as best I could--my nose was running from the chilly water and I couldn't smell much, which was probably good because when I lowered my mouth toward Bryce's, I could smell the water, and it stunk like rotting fish.
My lips touched down on ice-cold skin. Ice-cold and spongy with teeth jutting through and--
I let out a shriek and yanked up. Fingers trembling, I cast a light ball. It took two tries, but finally, a penlight-sized ball of illumination appeared, just enough for me to see that I was holding the bloated and eyeless corpse of a middle-aged man.
I shrieked again.
I dropped the corpse and swung the light ball, searching for Bryce, but the water was so murky, I couldn't see my own hands a few inches below the surface. I dove.
I swam straight to the bottom and started feeling around. It only took a moment to find another body . . . and a cursory touch to its skin to know I'd located another corpse.
As I pushed away, my foot kicked a third body. I twisted around, reached out, and found an arm--with a warm hand and fingers.
I grabbed it and had started up when I had a mental flash of myself saving Anita, and leaving my brother lying on the bottom, dying. I touched the body's hair. Fine, short hair. Bryce? God, I hoped so.
I dragged him to the surface. My light ball was still there, waiting, and when I looked down, I saw Bryce's face. His pale and still face, no pulse of life.
I was bringing my mouth down to his when I heard Paige's distant voice. "Make sure the airway is clear first."
I pried open Bryce's mouth . . . and he convulsed suddenly, and his teeth chomped down on my fingers.
I yanked my hand away and held him steady as he came to, coughing and gasping.
"Where--?" he began. "Who--?"
"It's me," I said. "Savannah."
"Sav . . . What are you doing?"
"Trying to give you mouth-to-mouth resuscitation in a waterfilled pit. And sadly, it's not just a nightmare. You were sick and for whatever reason--probably delirium--I was the one you called."
He started treading water on his own, nodding as he remembered. Then he stopped and shook his head. "I called you on purpose. I wanted you and the council to see what they were . . ." He trailed off and looked up at the hatch, twenty feet overhead, then around at the black pit, then at me, treading water beside him. "Shit."
"Kind of."
"I'm sorry. I never would have gotten you involved if I'd known . . ."
"Well, you didn't like me that much anyway."
I said it lightly, joking, but the look on his face made me wish I hadn't.
"I don't know you enough to like you or not," he said finally. "That's my fault. Doesn't matter much right now. If I get out of this . . ." He coughed.
"We'll get out. Just don't try to bite me again."
"Bite?"
I lifted my fingers. "That's what I get for attempting CPR when I don't have a clue how to do it."
"I bit you? Did I break the skin?"
"Nah."
"Good." He exhaled, eyes closing.
"Unless you're a werewolf, I'm not worried about a nip. Though I have had a fight-bite before, and they are nasty, especially when you're swimming around in toxic soup like this. So, next step, get out of the toxic soup."
"It must be escapable." He twisted to look around. "Anita climbed down here."
"Jumped. There's no ladder." I shone the light around the sides. "Despite the stench, I don't think it's a sewer." I moved the light ball to one side, where a corpse floated. "There are more. I tried to give CPR to one, thinking it was you."
"Corpses?" He looked up at the hatch.
"From up there, I'd guess. Failed experiments dumped into a pit filled with floodwater. Anita knew what it was and jumped in to avoid the gas. It must have been shallower than she figured. Probably bumped her head and drowned, and I'm not going to look for her."
"Savannah?"
It was Adam's voice, so distant that I almost missed it.
"The cavalry arrives." I raised my voice. "Hey! About time, guys!"
"Savannah?" Adam called louder, his tone telling me he hadn't heard my reply.
"Down here!" I yelled. "We're--"
"Adam!" Jeremy shouted.
The explosion hit like a sonic boom, the sound coming a second later, a deafening roar, as I was falling back into the water. Water sloshed around me. As my arms windmilled, something hit my head, shoving me under. I thought it was Bryce and I reached up to knock him away, but my hands brushed wood, splinters digging into my fingertips.
I fought my way up. Plaster and wood and fist-sized chunks of concrete hailed down, battering me under the water again.
Another explosion boomed.
I broke through the surface and kept going up, not realizing I was out, darkness still surrounding me.
Darkness.
I looked up. The hatch was gone. Then a huge chunk of plaster fell and light shimmered through.
"Adam?" I yelled. "Adam!"
Another crash. The house collapsing. More debris raining down. The hatch going dark again. Staying dark.
Silence.
A bomb. The final solution. Bring the house down. Destroy everything.
thirty-eight
"Adam!"
I floundered toward the wall screaming his name. My nails dug into the cement sides, scrabbling as if I could get up there, get to him, somehow get to him. Blood welled up, my fingers sliding in it.
"Savannah . . ." Bryce came up behind me.
I pounded the wall. Pounded it until my fists ached. Tears streamed down my face. My throated burned from screaming.
"Savannah . . ." He touched my shoulder.
I wheeled on him, bloody fists raised.
He started to shrink back, then stopped. "If that'll make you feel better . . ."
I snarled and turned back to the wall, feeling along it now, desperately trying to find some fingerhold, some bumps and holes I could use to pull myself up.
"We need to get out of here," Bryce said.
"Do we? Great idea." I jabbed my finger up. "Our exit is gone. Buried under a few tons of rubble."
And Adam. Adam is buried under there, too. Maybe Jeremy, too.
My stomach clenched and I doubled over, face hitting the water. I gasped. The filthy water filled my mouth and I didn't care. Didn't try to spit it out. Didn't try to come up for air.
Adam was dead.
Dead.
Adam, and maybe Jeremy, and it was my fault. I'd brought them here and they'd died trying to get me out of that locked room. My fault. Just like all those deaths in Columbus. Just like my parents.
Bryce heaved me up to the surface. I fought him, but he kept me above water, even as he panted with the effort, his face now visible, a light ball glowing over our heads. Covering his mouth with one sodden sleeve, he hacked and coughed and gasped, and that was what stopped my struggles, remembering how sick he was, imagining myself dragging him underwater with me, killing him, another death on my conscience.
I pushed him away and started treading water.
"I don't believe Anita drowned," he said after a moment.
"Do you think I care--?"
"She knew there was a way out. There must be some kind of exit, maybe under the water."
I said nothing. He went quiet and I thought he was going to console me. Instead, his eyes flashed.
"So that's how it is?" he said. "Your boyfriend might be dead so you give up? I didn't think you were that kind of--"
"Adam is not my boyfriend," I said through clenched teeth. "He's my friend, okay? The guy I've known since I was twelve. My coworker. My partner. My best friend."
"Okay, I'm sorry, but you don't know he's dead--"
"The fucking building collapsed!"
"You don't know for sure. And even if you did, are you going to just stay down here? Swim until you can't stay above water and let yourself drown?"
I glowered at him.
"I take it that's a no," he said. "Good. Let's get out of here."
I made Bryce stay afloat while I dove. Otherwise, he was liable to go down and not come up. I could hear him coughing from under five feet of water.
I did a systematic search around the perimeter. I was about to repeat it when my hand reached out and didn't touch concrete.
The drain was about two and a half feet wide. Completely submerged. I resurfaced and told Bryce.
"I'll go," I said. "It could be too far to hold your breath--"
"I'm fine."
"Umm, no, from the sounds of it, you're about to start hacking up lung tissue."
"Anita wouldn't have tried swimming out if she didn't think she could make it." He paddled over to the side. "She's more than twice my age and not exactly an athlete. Anyway, at worst, we'll find out whether their experiment works. A test of my immortality. You wait here."
"I'm not--"
He dove before I could finish. I went after him, but his foot caught me in the gut. Accidentally? I'm not sure. It was enough of a blow to have me swallowing water again, which meant I shot back up, sputtering. I spat out, took a deep breath, and went under.
Bryce was already in the drain and out of reach. I kept going until my brain started screeching that I should turn back, that I'd barely make it back and--
I plowed into him. I rose into a dimly lit pocket of air to find him standing in front of me. A light ball hovered overhead.
"That was your spell back there?" I said.
"It wasn't yours, that's for sure. Mine you can actually see by."
"I'm having some trouble."
"So I saw." He coughed. "That's about the extent of my witch magic, though. Dad taught it to me. He learned it . . . he must have learned it from your--" Another cough. "Anyway, catch your breath here and follow me if you must. Just don't get in my way."
"Thanks a helluva--"
He went back under. I followed. We'd gone about ten feet when he stopped. He kicked and I thought he was in trouble, so I grabbed his ankle. He managed to reach back, grab my hand, and motion for me to retreat. When I hesitated, he put it into reverse himself.
There wasn't room to turn around, so we had to back up. Slow going, and I was gasping when I surfaced. Bryce came up just behind me.
"It's Anita," he said. "She's dead. Something blocked her way and she must have panicked, trying to clear it instead of retreating. I'm going back in. Stay here."
"No, you're half-dead yourself. If anything's wedged in there, you'll never get it out."
He hesitated, but agreed and let me go. I was able to pull Anita's body back past the air hole and went up for a breath, then down again.
The blockage was another corpse, this one bloated so badly it was like pulling a cork from a bottle. I managed to get it back to the breathing hole. I came up for air and told Bryce, and I couldn't say another word before he dove and started out. I followed.
Just past where the corpse had been wedged, there was another breathing hole. Or so it seemed. The last had been a dead-end pipe, probably filled in at some point. When Bryce lit his light ball, I could see that this one was indeed another pipe . . . but not a dead end.
There was a ladder of rusted bars up one side. I said I'd go first--whatever was up top probably wasn't easily opened. He agreed.
It was a tough climb. Some of the bars were rusted right through, and I broke more than one. When I checked to see if Bryce was getting hit by the falling metal, he told me to just keep going. I finally made it to the top. The pipe ended in a metal cover. I gave it a shove. It didn't budge.
"Umm . . . ," I called down.
"Just keep pushing," Bryce said. "And stay to the side. I'll try some spells."
I did, and he did, using knockbacks and energy bolts. I cast a few unlock spells under my breath. I'm not sure what worked--maybe a combination of all--but after a few minutes, the pipe lid groaned. Another heave and it flew open.
We made it out of the drain or whatever the hell it had been. I wasn't about to stop and analyze the architectural significance.
As soon as we were aboveground, I could hear the sirens and the shouts. Ambulances for the wounded. Emergency workers searching the rubble for survivors.
Survivors. Oh, God.
I lurched forward, legs shaking almost too much to support me. When Bryce coughed, I turned back to see him braced against a wall, his face pale, cheeks flushed bright red. He could barely stand. I went back to help him, but as soon as I reached to touch him, he waved me off.
"I'm fine," he said.
"No, you aren't."
I tried to grab his arm.
He backed up. "Go. I'll follow."
I raced down the back alley. There was no sign of Jaime.
Did she know Jeremy was--? Was Jeremy--? And Adam . . .
I rounded the corner and--
Dust floated down. The building was gone. Collapsed. The front and back walls and part of the attached sides remained, the upper floor listing, ready to fall at any moment, police and emergency workers shouted for people to get back behind the line.
And the middle, where the lab had been? There was no middle. Just those front and back walls, nothing between them but broken planks and twisted metal and chunks of plaster.
Nothing left.
Nothing.
I staggered forward. People thronged the end of the alley, having squeezed past trying to find a vantage point. I pushed through them. When they wouldn't move, I shoved, ignoring the gasps of indignation and return shoves.
Then a voice pierced the commotion. It wasn't a loud voice. Soft, actually. But it was one I knew well enough to pick up, in chunks, over the chaos.
"We need to go . . . you know . . . find . . . I'm sorry . . . there's no way . . ."
Two people blocked my way. Guys about my age with a video camera. I sent them flying with a knockback. Didn't even realize I was casting. Just thought Goddamn it, get out of my way! and they did, each stumbling to one side like split bowling pins. I barreled through. And that's when I saw Jeremy.
He was knee-deep in rubble. Around him, emergency workers were too busy searching the debris to realize he wasn't one of them. He could have been, his clothes so streaked with plaster dust that you couldn't tell if he wore a uniform. Even his hair was gray with dust. Blood smeared the side of his face and more trickled from a gash on his chin. He favored one leg as he bent, reaching for something hidden behind a broken bed heaped with rubble.
His lips moved, but I couldn't catch what he said. I stepped forward over the remains of the wall.
"Go then." A ragged voice drifted from somewhere ahead of me. "I'm not leaving until I find her."
"You won't," Jeremy said. "And if you do . . ." His voice caught. He reached down again, grabbed hold, and tugged.
Adam rose. He looked as bad as Jeremy--clothes filthy and ripped, face battered and bloody--and I'd never seen such a beautiful sight in my life.
"I'm not going until I find--" Adam saw me and stopped.
He blinked. His mouth opened. For a second, nothing came out. Then, "Savannah?"
"Hey," I called. "Miss me?"
He pulled from Jeremy's grasp and crossed the rubble in a few steps. His arms went around me and he pulled me close and then . . . he kissed me.
When I imagined this moment, I always saw it coming. He would lean toward me, and I'd see his mouth moving toward mine, a
nd I'd wait for it. But this . . . ? There was no waiting. No warning. He was hugging me, and then he was kissing me and it was . . . perfect. There's no other way to describe it. A perfect moment. A perfect kiss. Everything I ever imagined. Everything I ever wanted.
"Sir? Miss?"
A shadow passed over us, a hand clasped Adam's shoulder, and as I opened my eyes, I saw Jeremy moving forward to stop the officer before he interfered. But it was too late. Adam pulled back, blinking. His cheeks colored and his mouth opened and I knew he was going to apologize, so I threw my arms around his neck and hugged him before he could.
Jeremy said something to the cop.
"I thought you were dead," I whispered in Adam's ear.
"That makes two of us." He paused. "I mean, I thought you were . . . Well, you know."
He pulled back enough to see me and smiled. I hugged him one more time, then stepped away as Jeremy was saying, "We were walking past when it happened. Managed to avoid the blast, but we thought we heard voices. We'll leave the searching to you now."
The officer thanked him, then asked whether Adam and Jeremy had seen anything suspicious, but Jeremy said no, they hadn't noticed anything until the blast sent them flying. By the time they recovered, people were rushing to the scene.
"You should get checked out," the cop said. He finally took a good look at me, sopping wet, and frowned.
"Water main break," I said, waving vaguely. "Fallout from the explosion, I guess."
"Is that the paramedic over there?" Jeremy said.
The officer nodded and Jeremy bustled us off. We veered away as soon as we could without being stopped. Adam still had his arm around me. I carefully picked my way through the debris and leaned on him for more support than I needed.
Jeremy led us into the alley. Everyone made way for the trio covered in blood and filth. We walked in silence. There would be time to explain later. Time to figure out what had happened and what it meant.
For now, we were all alive and safe. I had to call Sean, to find out where to take Bryce--Los Angeles or Miami. Either way, he'd get the best care possible. Then we'd all take a breather and regroup.
Back in that alley, the man--demon, angel, whatever he was--had told me a war was coming. When I glanced back over my shoulder at the rubble, then ahead at my battered and sick brother coming our way, supported by Jaime, it looked like that war had already begun. The initial battle had been fought. Who'd won? I wasn't sure. But it had indeed only begun.
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