“What do you want with my dad?”
“That ain’t none of your business.”
I dig my feet into the ground. “He’s my dad; that makes it my business.”
He chuckles, a low, grating sound. “Feisty gal, huh? My boss hired me and Billy to find Franco, though he looks different than the last time I saw him. Got the drop on Billy, but not me.”
“That’s because it’s not him!”
The hitman’s eyes rise up beneath the brim of his hat. “What?”
“Those were his parents. He doesn’t have anything do with what happened in Chicago.”
He waves his gun at me. “Uh huh. I don’t believe it. They disappeared last year. Their kid was real little, a baby. There’s no way he coulda grown up already.”
“Time works differently with anomalies like the portal. It’s completely possible to spend entire years on one side and come back five minutes after you left.”
“It’s true, I swear.”
He snorts and gestures with the gun for me to get moving.
When we reach the edge of a clearing, a low, rumbling growl erupts behind us. A chill races up my spine. As if I didn’t have enough to worry about, now that monster’s back.
“What the hell?” The assassin spins around and trains his gun on the shadows.
Crouching low in the dappled light, an enormous creature slinks toward us. Its fur is a mottle tan and brown, and shiny white fangs glisten as it moves through the patches of sunlight. Huge golden eyes shift from the man to me.
The monster approaches us, and I dart away from both of them. The assassin fires his gun and the creature roars. Then the man screams and my steps falter, but I don’t turn around.
My dad rushes from the front door of the lighthouse. “Austen?” Before I can answer, he looks at the spectacle behind me and grows pale. “Come on!” he yells, gesturing for me to hurry.
The man screams again, and I freeze, transported to that terrifying night when another man lost his life. Dad grabs my arm and drags me the last twenty feet to the lighthouse.
“What the hell are you doing here?” He paces from the door to the window, his steps stilted and agitated.
“That—that man.” I point wildly behind me, still afraid to look. “He found me at Ezra’s farmhouse and told me I had to find you, or he’d shoot me.”
Confusion crosses Dad’s face. “How did you know I was here?”
“Mom said you talked about the lighthouse.” He groans. “And even if you weren’t here, I . . . I thought Ian might know what to do.” Heat creeps up my face. Please don’t let Dad ask how well I know Ian. I’ll die of embarrassment.
A knowing smile twitches his lips. “I see.”
“What are you doing here?”
He hesitates before answering. “I met Ian a long time ago. He helped my parents and I after we got here.” He hunches his shoulders, defeated. “So when the hitmen came after me, I didn’t know where else to go. These people, they think I’m my father, and they won’t stop until I’m dead.”
A gurgling shriek erupts behind us, too close. Dad jerks me into the lighthouse and slams the door. He pulls me down to the floor and holds his finger up to his mouth. “Quiet. We should be safe here if it can’t see us.” `
“What is that thing?”
“A smilodon. Saber-toothed cat.”
It clicks. It makes sense. No wonder they found the truck driver’s body in a tree. If mountain lions drag their prey up into trees, maybe creatures like this do, too.
A chilling thought runs down my spine. “Where’re Ian and Nico?”
He glances at the window. “Fishing. He has a dock and the boy wanted to go out and catch some dinner.”
I jump to my feet, my mind racing in a panic. “We have to warn them!”
“We can’t. That creature will kill us.” Dad tries to pull me back down, but I shake him off.
I give him a stern look. “It’ll kill them if we don’t.”
I run to the closet and swing the door open. Dad swears quietly under his breath. Hanging from various hooks on the wall are a crossbow, what looks like a grappling hook, and guns of various sizes. On a shelf above the weapons are boxes of ammunition and what looks like a bunch of hand grenades.
“Here.” I toss the shotgun to Dad and grab a couple of hand grenades for myself.
He eyes my weapon choice dubiously. “You know how to use those things?”
I shrug and give him a flippant smile that I hope looks confident and reassuring. “No time like the present.”
He chuckles and loads his weapon. “Grenades are pretty simple,” he says. “Just pull the pin, throw it, and run like hell.”
“I think I can manage that.” It’ll be tough with the stupid cast, but if I hold it carefully, I’m sure I can manage.
My dad shakes his head and leads me to the door. “Ready?”
I gulp down the fear bubbling up my throat. I have to be strong. I have to do this. “Yup. Let’s go.”
As we leave the lighthouse, Dad motions for me to stay behind him. The clearing is eerily silent. No birds flit through the trees, no insects hop from flower to flower. Nothing.
At the far edge, I see a flash of movement. Ian and Nico walk along the shore, a pair of fishing poles slung over their shoulders. Crouching behind the cave, ready to pounce, is the smilodon.
“Ian!” I scream, but he’s too far away to hear. I race toward them, passing my father.
When I get within fifty feet of the beast, I skid to a stop. Ian and Nico disappear behind the cave. When they reach the other side, the creature will attack.
I shout Ian’s name again, but I don’t have time to wait to see if he hears me. I dig into my pocket and pull out one of the hand grenades. Ian races toward the forest, Nico thrown over his shoulder. Relief floods me until I see the monster’s gaze follow them. It shifts slightly, as if ready to change course and go after this fleeing target.
I sprint closer and lob the grenade at the creature. It bounces off its flank and rolls harmlessly against the side of the cave. Crap. I forgot to pull the pin.
My dad reaches my side, huffing. He grabs my arm. “Get behind me.”
I ignore him, wrench my arm away, and pull out the other grenade. “I got one left. If this doesn’t work, it’s all yours.”
He grins. “Let’s hope you don’t miss. That thing looks like it’ll pack a punch.”
Everything descends into slow motion as I pull the pin from my final grenade and pitch it at the creature. It arcs through the air, spinning, and I count down the seconds in my head. When I get to four, it bounces off the creature’s flank. At five, it hits the ground.
The world explodes.
Chapter 22
I groan, pushing myself into a sitting position. A loud ringing in my ears drowns out everything else. My lungs seize up, and a deep cough racks my body.
Someone grabs my shoulders and shakes me. I blink blearily as Dad’s face swims into view. He mouths something, but I can’t make out what he says, so I shake my head. Frustration mars his dirt-streaked face. He pulls me to my feet, and I stagger against him until I can steady myself.
The ringing fades, and I stare in horror at the rubble that used to be Ian’s cave. Blood and bits of fur and flesh litter the ground, larger chunks interspersed with hunks of concrete and stone. Dust drifts from the ruins, and from the corner of my eye, I see Ian race toward us.
He pulls me into his arms savagely and clutches me to him as if I’m air itself and he can’t breathe without me. He runs his hands over my body, and his eyes search mine. “Are you okay?” His voice is gruff. I nod. “Thank God.” His lips crash against mine, desperate, and I melt into him.
Electricity buzzes through my synapses, lighting my nerves on fire. He breaks away and rests his forehead against mine. “When the cave exploded,” he says, his voice cracking, “God, I thought you were dead. I thought . . .” He shakes his head, unable to continue.
My dad clears his th
roat behind us, and before I can answer, Nico launches himself into my arms.
“Austen!” He buries his face in my shoulder.
“It’s okay.” I squeeze him tightly and then set him on the ground. “You’re okay. We’re all okay.” I ruffle his hair. “Let’s go, all right?”
Nico reaches up and grabs my hand.
In silence, the four of us weave through the rubble to the destroyed cave. Blood glistens on the ground, and clumps of hair and flesh cling to some of the rocks.
My dad whistles. “Those were some heavy-duty hand grenades.”
Ian kicks one of the rocks and watches it roll a few inches out of his path. “They weren’t exactly standard issue. I added a little something for extra oomph.”
“I’ll say.” Dad chuckles. “Come on, let’s go check it out.”
“Okay.”
It’s bad. The concrete wall has completely toppled, with pieces as far away as twenty feet. The other boulders that made up the rest of the cave have also been destroyed, especially the side closest to the blast.
“It shouldn’t have done this much damage, though.” Ian surveys the destruction, a grim expression on his face. He steps over a couple of the larger rocks and enters what would have been the cave. He stops and crouches down, running his hand through the smaller bits of rubble.
“What’s wrong?” I kneel down beside him.
He points at what would have been the back of the cave. It takes me a few seconds, but when I realize what he’s staring at, or not staring at, I grab his arm, suddenly dizzy. It’s empty. There’s no swirling black portal, no ring of stones, no glittering bits of darkness.
“I thought the portal couldn’t be destroyed.”
He scoops up a handful of gravelly sand and tosses it amid the rubble. “It can’t, but maybe it’s just not here anymore. Maybe the energy influx from the bombs, combined with the unstable nature of the portal, provided enough energy, enough power, to shift the lines.”
“Crap,” I mutter, my gaze glued to the empty clearing. “What are we going to do now?”
He stands up and dusts his hands off on his pants. “Find the portal, of course, before something else gets free. Something even nastier. Something we can’t keep contained.”
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Acknowledgments
Like all books, this one was a mammoth endeavor that took blood, sweat, and tears to create. First to acknowledge is my husband, who puts up with my odd hours, strange questions, and fervent obsession with fonts. I’d also like to thank my wonderful friends and family members who valiantly volunteered to be my guinea pigs and help me by reading, rereading, and endlessly discussing this book. I’d also like to give a shout-out to all my awesome beta readers, especially Elesa, Julie, and Silvia. You girls were the masters at ferreting out plot holes, fleshing out flat characters, and forcing me to stick to the plot. My editor, Suzie, also deserves a big chunk of thanks. Without her, this book would be unintelligible and riddled with mistakes. Lastly, I would like to thank my awesome readers. If it weren’t for you and your continued support, this book may never have happened.
About the Author
Chanda Stafford was found in a cabbage patch when she was only a few hours old—at least that’s what her mother always told her. She learned to write at a young age, and her list includes some truly awful poetry written while she was in elementary school and a sixty-page story about a dog named Ruby.
She published her first book, First, in 2013, with Red Adept Publishing and has since published two more (Imposter, and Burning Bright). When she’s not writing, she enjoys teaching, hunting for antiques, and anything paranormal. When Darkness Falls is the first book of a new young adult urban fantasy series.
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