The sedan’s engine revved, and I squeezed off a shot.
“Five seconds remaining,” the AI said.
Another shot, but the junky sedan deftly avoided the maelstrom of diamond studded silver. I pressed my face against the crosshairs, eyelashes brushing against the metal. All my concentration was channeled into making the next blast hit pay dirt.
Which is when I caught sight of the driver.
One of the broad-shouldered bastards who had dangled me off the skywalk last night.
Anger rising in my throat, I pulled the trigger with conviction, racked the slide, and pulled again, this time hitting the engine block. The sedan careened off an abandoned truck on the sidewalk and flipped into the air.
I felt the cruiser’s window push against my stomach, so I slid back inside.
“We have to go back.” When I tried to inhale, I was greeted with a foul, polluted gulp of air. I’d forgotten just how nasty the Fallout Zone was.
That’s what happens when the government drops nukes to quell an uprising.
“Who was it?” Roark asked.
“Bastards who gave me a free skydiving lesson.”
An aeronautic whoosh overtook the interior as the filtration system worked overtime. It took longer exposure to the radiation than a single gulp to be permanently affected—I’d only felt the effects last time after being outside for about a minute.
But I still felt a scratchiness in my lungs as the system unleashed its magic.
Roark pulled off and turned around. The cruiser crept carefully toward the wreck. I fished inside my pocket for shells and loaded them into the chamber as we approached.
Roark reached for his service weapon.
No movement came from the smoking car. It was overturned on the cracked sidewalk, having cut a partial swath through a yard overtaken by virulent weeds.
The cruiser’s engine cut off and Roark gestured toward the trunk.
“Cover me while I grab the rebreathers.”
I nodded and sucked in a deep lungful of air before stepping outside. The thick gray smoke from the smoking sedan tickled my nose. Roark tossed me a rebreather and I strapped it on. A brief holographic display flashed, displaying 60:00 minutes.
We wouldn’t need that much time.
The sedan’s door creaked open, and we both raised our guns. A burly man crawled out, flopping onto the ground in a heap. He was followed by his buddy. Both were pretty banged up.
“Glad you could both join us,” I said.
The driver’s head tilted toward me. It was raked with scratches and blood. I noticed a flowing wound around his neck. But neither man appeared to have trouble breathing. Meaning they were born in the Fallout Zone. I should’ve been able to read their auras cold. Even a non-Realmfarer could identify another creature’s magical signature easily.
But there was no sense of that, here. Which was strange, since they clearly weren’t mortal. They’d grown up in the Fallout Zone, which meant they had the heartiest supernatural genetics possible.
Darwinism at its finest.
I must’ve been losing my touch. First Silvia had manipulated her aura, misleading my intuition. And then I hadn’t picked up on the essence surging through these two goons at all last night. Still couldn’t.
“Who are you?” Roark said as he approached the two men.
They glared back in defiance. The driver struggled to rise, his forearm broken. A white bone glistened with blood, puncturing the skin.
“I’ve got a better idea.” I racked the shotgun, which also got no response. But I wasn’t expecting it to.
That was for what came next, when I splattered the driver’s buddy all over the sidewalk.
The driver roared in agony, as if I’d killed him instead.
“Do we have your attention?” I asked, ignoring Roark’s incredulous glance.
“You will perish for your misdeeds, sinner.”
“See, you said that yesterday, and yet, here I stand.” I placed the barrel against his head. “Last chance for a clean conscience.”
“I may not have attained immortality, but my brothers and sisters shall soon. Just like our Crusading Prophet. You will see.”
“You’re saying Donovan is immortal?”
“He will share Pan’s gift with us all.”
“But not with you.”
And then I pulled the trigger, painting the car door a brackish shade of red.
23
The spent shell tumbled next to the henchman’s headless body when I racked the slide. I turned to address Roark, who looked ready to shit a brick.
“You can’t do that.” His blue eyes surveyed the carnage.
“Oh, what, were we gonna ask them nicely to stop following us around?”
“We could’ve gotten information.”
“They’re true believers,” I said. “They were just gonna waste time. Which we don’t have.”
“Jesus Christ, this is a disaster.”
“Not true. Hold this.” I handed Roark the shotgun and got on my knees. I’d seen it in the driver’s eyes: a temptation to stall. That meant there was something of value in that beat-up car.
Something that would soon be consumed by flame.
Thus, for the second time in as many days, I found myself much closer to fire than I’d have liked.
The sedan’s interior felt like an oven as I crawled inside, plastic and vinyl popping angrily from the heat. I banged on the center console, but all that poured out were a couple old CDs and some half-smoked joints.
Maybe that was how a Crusader kept his conscience clean.
The glovebox proved equally fruitless, so I crawled into the backseat. Here, the fire burned hotter, red embers smoldering on the faded upholstery. I searched along the floor, my hands finally striking against something lodged beneath the driver’s seat. A metal box.
When I tried to yank it out, I discovered that the box was padlocked to a chain.
“Check the driver for a padlock key,” I yelled over the advancing flames. “And hurry.”
“Nothing.”
“Then check the other guy.” I batted away the embers creeping along my jeans. The entire sedan sizzled like a tinderbox about to ignite.
“There’s no goddamn key,” Roark said.
“Toss me your pistol.”
“You need to get the hell out of there, Ruby.”
“Shoot out the back window and throw it in.” The flames outside were too hot for either me or him to punch through. I clambered back toward the front, hearing his gun bark. The window shattered and I clawed my way back into the furnace. Smoke swirled in the backseat, but I found the pistol without too much trouble.
When I took a breath, though, I found that I’d knocked the rebreather loose. The air was harsh and unpalatable. My eyes watered as I hacked and coughed, the flames rising around me.
“Goddamnit, Ruby, it’s not worth it!”
Brushing tears away, I tried to find the box again in the thick smoke. As I blindly flailed, my senses dimmed.
Then I found the chain.
Sweat cascading down my chin, I aimed the pistol where I thought my fingers were. Then I pulled my hand away and unloaded the entire magazine, hearing metal crack.
Heart soaring, I snatched the box. But when I went toward the window, I found my back limbs refused to cooperate. The smoke and radiation combo made me feel like I’d huffed a gallon of lead paint.
I tossed the metal box outside, hearing it bounce off the broken window frame and out on the concrete.
“I smell gasoline, Ruby.”
“Can’t…move.” I dragged my elbows along the vinyl ceiling, sinking into the bubbling material. It felt like moving through quicksand. I closed my eyes and found that I didn’t want to open them again.
A strong hand grabbed my arm and pulled, dragging me through the flames.
The last thing I remembered was the sound of something big and bass heavy.
Something like an explosion.
24
“Ruby. Hey, Ruby.” The click of fingers filled my ears. “Come on, there you go.”
I fought to remove the mask. A strong, gentle grip held my arm so that I didn’t commit accidental suicide. My chest felt like it was on fire. Blinking, I took stock of the surroundings.
I was on a bed within a bubble. A machine beeped nearby, monitoring my vitals. Outside the plastic sheeting, the walls were covered in graffiti and water streaks.
Roark stood over me, blue eyes filled with concern.
“You’re not wearing a mask,” I said, my face feeling a little funny. I realized a sedative was running through the IV drip. “The radiation…”
A vaguely familiar person entered the outer room and called, “Everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine, Alice.”
“You owe me so much for this, Colton.”
“Sure,” he said, gaze focused on me.
“I want a six month power card. Unlimited use.”
“You got it,” Roark said absentmindedly, then snapped to attention. “What, are you out of your fucking mind?”
“That’s a bargain for your friend’s life, right?” Alice’s stubby fangs clicked out in a smirk as she left the room.
“She’s…interesting,” I said. I’d never met her—at least not alive. I’d seen her body in the loop, though. “Doesn’t this just make her even with you?”
After all, the necromancer had been going after Roark’s CI list. A warning from Roark had saved all their lives—including Alice’s.
“I’ll get her the card,” Roark said, committed to being a man of his word. “Just rest.”
“I feel fine.” I tried to sit up, but it felt like my body was tied down by rocks. Roark’s lips pursed together in a grimace. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“You sucked down a lot of radiation. Got burned.”
“I feel fine.” My skin was totally okay. Good as new.
“The burns were easy to treat.” He held up his own arm, which was slick with some sort of jelly. Barely even pink. “The radiation takes some time.”
“I swear I’m okay.”
“You will be.”
“How long?”
Roark looked down. “A week.”
“We don’t have a week.” More to the point, I didn’t have a week. Silvia’s bill came due on Friday. Then I would be dead anyway—radiation or not, since she had my blood.
“We do now.”
“Bullshit.” I let out a hacking cough that painted my forearm in blood. Feeling woozy, I slumped against the pillow. “Tell me we got something from that box in the car.”
Roark paused long enough to give me a heart attack, but when he spoke I realized it was because he didn’t want me chasing leads after I’d almost died.
“You were right.”
“I usually am,” I said.
“The Crusaders are definitely trying to summon Pan, God of Arcadia.”
I groaned, even though I’d all but known it already. “Not this again.” I’d fought with Kalos to stop a sorceress and demon king from trying to become gods. Megalomania was so last year. Or twenty years ago. Time compresses when your daily routine is spent inside a chain-link fence. “Good thing that can’t happen.”
There was a long pause.
Finally I said, “That can’t happen, right?”
“Summon might not be the best word.” Roark’s handsome jaw set into a hesitant expression.
“What?”
“It’s more like—I don’t know.”
“Bullshit,” I said, reading the expression clear as day on his face. “You just don’t want to tell me.”
“I don’t think this is gonna help your recovery.”
“You’re going to be in recovery if you don’t explain what’s going on.”
Roark flashed a faint smile. “All right.”
“I’m still not hearing an explanation.”
“If you let me speak—”
Alice interrupted from the hallway. “Goddamnit, Colton, you brought the FBI here?”
Roark stiffened. “I didn’t call anyone.”
“Well, there’s some old woman outside. She looks scary as hell.”
“Better go talk to Janssen,” I said. Roark stepped back and I reached for his hand, briefly brushing the fingertips. “Thanks for saving me.”
“Just don’t do anything stupid, okay, Ruby?”
I smiled at him weakly. “When have I ever done anything like that?”
25
Bed rest wasn’t my style. A Realmfarer is a nomadic creature, rarely staying in one spot for long. As one might suspect, being imprisoned for two decades had been an unpleasant experience. But eventually I’d acclimated.
Still, that urge never really died. And the thought of being bedridden for a week didn’t sit well.
I toyed with the machine, trying to adjust the intake of radiation medicine. In the windowless room, I couldn’t tell how much time had passed. All I knew was it had been too damn long.
Alice Conway came through the door and peered inside the bubble.
“Come on, don’t do that.”
“Oh, good. You’re awake.” I gave her a big, annoying smile.
“I’m not an on-call nurse. Stop messing with the machine.”
“You sure have a lot of medical stuff lying around for a hacker.”
“People bleed a lot in this part of town,” Alice said. “Figured when I got the new place, I should help less of them die.”
“Good plan,” I said. “You one of those hacktivists?”
“No. Like, really, come on.”
“You come on.”
Her stubby fangs shot out. They were like a baby vampire’s, except they would never grow. The wonders of being half-vamp. Daytime was relatively miserable, if palatable, and you could eat regular food—although she’d still have a strong craving for meat.
And, while stronger than a human, a half-vamp would have a hell of a time tearing open someone’s neck.
Alice rolled her eyes and played with her hair. “So, you and Colton, huh?”
“It’s not a thing,” I said.
“He’s pretty hot.”
“If you’re interested, he’s all yours,” I said. “In fact, I’ll put in a good word if you let me out.”
Her expression went serious. “He told me not to let you out.” I could feel her trying to convince me that it wasn’t in my best interest to leave. The best vampires were smooth-talking and hypnotic. If you weren’t watching, they could convince you to fork over your shirt—then buy it back.
But that trick was rarer than the movies made it out to be. It took skill—and for the mark to be impressionable.
Both factors were absent here.
“Nice try, kid,” I said, blinking twice.
“Goddamnit.” Alice played with the holes in her t-shirt. It was snugger than necessary. Ah, to be young and desperate for attention.
I pushed against the mattress, this time finding the strength to sit up. As I hoisted my bare leg over the side of the bed, her eyes grew wide in alarm.
“No!”
“Come stop me.”
“Please,” Alice said, her eyes pleading. “You still need to be in here for five more days.”
I stopped and said slowly, “How long have I been out?”
Alice stared at the worn carpeting and scratched her ear. “Not long.”
“How fucking long?” The words boomed across the room, seemingly shaking the plastic quarantine bubble.
“Uh, two days. About. Since Roark went to…” Alice swallowed hard, catching herself. With a steely look, she cleared her throat. “You need to rest.”
“I need to kick two people’s asses, apparently,” I said, placing my foot against the cool plastic. The rug beneath the bubble bristled and parted. “Where is he?”
“I really can’t tell you.”
“I’m not playing this game again.” I crossed my arms as I got to the zippered exit. “You t
ell me, or I’m coming out.”
“You’re insane.” Her brow furrowed, glasses sliding down her nose. “You’ll die.”
I reached for the zipper. “I’m in a gambling mood today.”
“That box, it contained a couple maps. The Crusaders of Paradisum found an ancient mana wellspring.” Alice looked at my hand nervously, making sure I wasn’t going to kill myself. “And they’re using it to summon the God of Arcadia. Pan.”
Arcadia.
Elysium.
Paradisum.
All variants on the same fantasy.
All bullshit.
Wouldn’t stop the Crusaders from dragging the rest of the world into their nonsense.
“Where?”
“I don’t know,” Alice said unconvincingly.
“Where?”
“The desert somewhere. Colton didn’t give me directions.”
“Sounds delightful,” I said, a bad feeling growing in my chest. Or that could’ve just been the radiation, which had been itching like a bastard ever since I’d started walking around. “Keep going.”
“It’s not like you can do anything.”
“You don’t know me very well, then.”
Alice shrunk from my gaze like I’d just aimed a rifle at her head. “This is why I stick to computers.”
“Yeah, because boys love computer nerds.”
“I do okay,” Alice said, pushing her bare foot into the carpet.
I rolled my eyes.
Her fangs clicked out and she said, “I do.”
I shrugged and said, “We’re getting off topic.”
“I’ve had enough of this.” She marched toward the doorway. “You’re not stupid enough to kill yourself.”
Seeing an opening, I called after her, “But maybe I can help you.”
“I don’t need your help.”
“Sure you do,” I said. “I could teach you how to kick some ass.”
Alice shuffled back. “I don’t know what you want from me.”
“Let me out and I’ll show you a couple things.” I gave her an insider wink. “You don’t even have to take me to the spring.”
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