by Alex Mae
Warwick chose that moment to interrupt, apparently oblivious to the tension flaring thickly in the air. He placed a massive paw on each of their shoulders. Drawing them in, he appeared to be totally unaware that every fibre in each of their bodies was committed to straining away from the other, like two magnets in repulsion.
‘Here’s my two favourite cadets,’ he boomed happily. ‘Isn’t this place great? I’m stoked we could finally bring you, Raegan.’
Raegan made as enthusiastic a noise as she could, not daring to look at Declan.
‘Dec! You’ve been on that same beer since we got here! Let me get you another.’
‘It’s okay,’ Declan muttered. ‘I’m not really in the mood.’
‘Good man.’ Warwick thumped his back. ‘You can keep me company. I’m not drinking tonight; someone’s gotta be responsible, after all!’ His eyes drifted to Bree, who had a drink in each hand and was still dancing - if you could call it that. In fact, she was barely moving at all, twitching her hips slightly every so often and raising her arms in the air, apparently lost in the rhythm. His jaw tightened.
Raegan looked at him closely, forgetting her own problems for a minute. ‘Why don’t you dance with her? We can take care of ourselves.’
‘What?’ He seemed to remember where he was, and grabbing Declan’s beer, took a long pull. The muscles in his neck were taut and strained as he drank. ‘Naw! She’s got my sister to chaperone her. Adriana can easily see off any guy – or girl - who gets too close.’
‘That’s not what I meant,’ she said softly.
Warwick’s brown eyes met hers. A bead of communication, unspoken, passed between them. ‘I know.’
They stood awkwardly in their huddle. Without warning, the music stopped. The DJ scratched his head, but the crowd was not in a merciful mood: a huge cry went up, loud and frustrated, as they hollered impatiently for the music to come back on.
‘I wish it wouldn’t,’ Declan mumbled. ‘Not if the DJ is going to play that junk again.’
‘I’m kind of enjoying the peace, too,’ Warwick laughed. ‘I guess I must be getting old!’ Noticing Raegan’s glass, now down to the last few dregs, he sprung into action. ‘Raegan, I’m sorry, I should have offered before! What can I get you?’
‘No worries.’ Raegan forced a smile. ‘Sam’s already on the case.’
Warwick cast his eyes around doubtfully. ‘Really? I thought I saw him settle in with his Skipper pals a second ago.’
Gutted to have been so easily forgotten, particularly when she had been sticking up for him, Raegan looked at the floor.
‘He probably just got sidetracked,’ Warwick added kindly, noticing her dejection. ‘Want me to go and round him up?’
She shook her head.
‘Sure? It’s a crime to neglect a lady where I come from. Punishable by death.’ The graveness of his tone made her giggle in spite of herself. He grinned too, before continuing, ‘And I’d be happy to-‘
But what Warwick was about to say next they would never know.
She was aware of a sudden stiffening in his posture. Like a wolf scenting blood, he raised his head, nostrils flared. At the same time, the lights all around began to flicker erratically. A faint buzzing sound – like feedback from a microphone – could be heard.
‘They’re here,’ he said quietly.
Chapter Eighteen: Off Guard
The bar was plunged into a pitch-blackness that was almost suffocating; filling mouth, nose and ears. As if the turntable was stuck, a jarring, leaping thud of electronica played, looping over and over, adding to the sense of surreal. A combination of worried murmuring and raucous laughter from those who continued with their revels filled the air. Over it – or perhaps through it – the odd, faint sound of a scream could be heard.
But there were few in the room who were really listening for it.
Before the lights went out, Warwick turned immediately toward the dance floor. Raegan assumed he was searching for Bree, but his restless eyes slid over her, stopping with relief when he found Adriana.
The Fay. Raegan didn’t need Declan to tell her; she had felt it, almost before Warwick spoke. Like oil oozing into water, something thick, dark, and tar-like was pressing down on her, and had been creeping into her stomach for some time.
She might have noticed before if she had not been so preoccupied. Once again, like in St Jude’s, she had been caught off guard.
‘How many?’ Declan whispered.
Adriana and Warwick did not break eye-contact with the merest blink. Bree, face filled with a fierce intensity Raegan had never seen, whispered something in her girlfriend’s ear before melting into the crowd.
‘Six at least,’ Warwick’s reply was low and urgent. If it weren’t impossible, Raegan would’ve sworn that Warwick was somehow passing on what Bree had just told Adriana. As if from across the room something wordless had passed between the siblings. She shivered.
‘There’s never been a sniff of the Other in Carrigaline before,’ he continued grimly. ‘They planned this, somehow...’
‘But they’ve been in Crosshaven,’ Declan burst out, suddenly agitated. ‘The other night. We should have told someone. I knew it-’
The flash of warning in Warwick’s eyes silenced him. Instantly the elder cadet shot an uneasy look at Raegan, but she did not notice. Her attention was directed elsewhere.
‘Sam,’ she murmured, scanning the crowd. ‘Where are you?’
‘He can take care of himself,’ Declan snapped, turning away from Warwick. ‘If he hadn’t been showing off with his Skipper buddies all night – that stupid traversing trick where he disappears the coin – the Fay probably wouldn’t have spotted us.’
Even in the middle of an attack Declan could not help pointing the finger.
‘We all drew attention to ourselves.’
The gravity in Warwick’s reminder sent a jolt through Raegan. She remembered Warwick with the table; Tyrell, with the glasses; Adriana, with the wandering hand. She had been amazed that no-one else noticed their Otherness; that no-one else picked up on the signs that were obviously there. Now she realised that her concern was utterly misplaced. She should have been thankful that their presence was undetected.
Except it wasn’t.
They had given themselves away.
That was when the lights failed. There was an initial eruption of noise and then Warwick was grabbing them both, bending his bulk down, eyes shining in the darkness. ‘You have to get her out of here,’ he urged hoarsely, looking from Declan to Raegan. ‘You know the rules. Our first duty is to these people.’
‘We can fight,’ Declan insisted.
‘No!’ Warwick’s arm tightened painfully on their shoulders. ‘You aren’t ready. But we can’t come with you. The others are already taking up their positions. You have to protect each other. Traverse, take the boat, and go. We’ll catch you up.’
‘But why-‘ Raegan struggled against a tidal wave of panic. ‘If the Fay are looking for us, if they planned this, then aren’t you giving them what they want, staying here?’
‘That won’t stop them!’ Warwick looked over his shoulder, speaking faster and faster. ‘Even if they haven’t come here to feed, it’s a game to them. They’ll cut down whoever gets in their way. The more bodies that pile up, the better.’
The sweet cider apples were rising in her throat, clawing at her innards.
‘Go!’ Out of the corner of her eye Raegan thought she saw a blur of motion hurtling toward them. Warwick pushed them both, hard, sending them stumbling toward the exit, as a roaring sound cut through the air. His skin seemed to vibrate for a moment, then he disappeared – vanished, right before their eyes; it was too fast for her to be sure, but Raegan thought she could make out a dark figure slamming into him as he did.
The roaring noise grew louder; Declan was yelling at her, but she couldn’t hear him over the sound. She made out the words ‘traverse’.
Raegan was petrified. This was nothing like Liana’s
studio. She couldn’t do it.
And then she felt his hand gripping hers, tightly. In the darkness she found his face. Even amongst the pandemonium, the cool green eyes were unruffled: a calm tide lapping on the heated shore.
Something strengthened inside her; like an iron bolt sliding into a lock, she found control. Bearing down, ignoring the rushing wind and frantically moving bodies around her as they bundled toward the exit, she anchored herself in the green depths. Within them she found a much-needed stillness.
Her heart slowed; she felt the power crackling over her skin; she could hear the ticking of the clock. She was zoning. Down, down went the beat. The space around her grew calmer. Lighter, almost.
They started to move. They couldn’t afford to waste time by trying to lock-in but they were more or less in the same time plane anyway, having slowed their hearts down to their maximum – which, due to their relative inexperience, was at about the same point.
Declan quickly broke away. Ducking and diving, he forged a path for her through the mass of bodies halted in mid-charge toward the door. It was like an awful maze of almost motionless flesh, suspended in a time plane separate from their own, looming up at her like so many tombstones. She didn’t have time to think about the bizarreness of the sight, or take in the scared expressions on the frozen faces of the people as she whirled past. Civilians might be oblivious at times but they were not stupid; by now, the danger had increased from a mere breath, a puff on the wind, to something tangible. Though they would not understand it, they would surely feel it.
Raegan tried to stay alert. Her senses might be frazzled but they were still there; she tried to listen to her instincts, to stay prepared for any incoming danger. She tried not to think of the Regents they were leaving behind.
They made it out of the back entrance unhindered, into an exterior doorway looking out onto the alleyway. It was large but sheltered with a good vantage point. As far as makeshift hiding places went, it wasn’t bad. Backs flat against either wall, they waited – though what they were waiting for was unclear. Some movement to signal that venturing into the alleyway would be unsafe, maybe. Or the welcoming stillness of safety.
No Fay or Regent could remain in another time plane indefinitely, however, as much as they might like to. Exhausted, the two new cadets were soon forced to return to common time. But they wouldn’t be able to recuperate for long. It left them too exposed to attack. Raegan, despite her shelter inside the doorway, felt more vulnerable than ever.
A loud crash sounded from within. They both froze, listening.
‘The door is blocked off,’ Declan said after a moment. His voice was muted but remarkably steady.
‘How do you know?’
‘We’re back in common time but everyone else is still inside. They must be trapped. We were lucky to get out when we did. Our guys would have tried to get the civilians out first before engaging in a brawl. I guess the Fay didn’t like that plan, so they closed off the escape routes, herding the civilians like horses into a corral. Forcing us into a fight.
‘It makes things more exciting for those sons of bitches to have bodies to hide behind. A quivering mass of fear to pick off. They get off on it.’
He glanced out into the dim light of the alley. ‘At least that means we probably haven’t been followed – but we need to keep moving.’
There was nothing Raegan wanted to do less than go out into the night. Some childish, irrational hope leaped inside her, telling her that everything would be all right if she only stayed put, here, safe in the hidey-hole.
But Declan was already moving. Crouching slightly, he leaned out carefully, scanning the alleyway. Grabbing helplessly for his jacket, she made an involuntary sound of distress. ‘No- we can’t. That noise! What if-‘
He turned back to her, steadying her, but his face swam before her eyes. Panicked, she reached for him, but her body didn’t respond. He was gripping her shoulders now, mouthing words frantically. She couldn’t hear him. She couldn’t see-
Raegan.
A flash of light.
Raegan. Can you hear me?
‘Yes.’
‘Raegan, what are you talking about? We need to go-‘
You’re not safe.
The second voice was female, and inside her head, she realised; amplified hugely, it bounced around her skull. How could that be?
Declan’s face loomed fuzzily, closer and closer. It was like watching through a fishtank; wavy, hazy, not quite there.
And then the green eyes were replaced by two wide, strange, orbs. So dark and deep they were almost black.
You need to keep going. You’re too precious to lose here.
Sukey’s eyes.
But the voice was calm; it sounded like Sukey, but not like Sukey. It was entirely coherent.
Please be careful. You’re the reason why they are here.
‘Me?’
‘Raegan, please-‘
Your gift. They must not know that you have it. You must keep it secret. Safe.
‘Wait-‘
But she was gone. Almost as soon as the overwhelming pressure had arrived in her head – like tiny fingers, wiggling around inside her brain – it seemed to disappear.
Declan was shaking her like a rat.
‘Ouch!’ She pushed him away, and then stumbled with the effort, crashing into the wall. Her legs were suddenly made of jelly. ‘What the hell are you doing?’
‘Trying to get you to come to your senses. We’re in the middle of a life or death situation here! If your little performance was an attempt to force me back inside, that was a pretty shitty trick.’
‘Trick?’ Raegan raised a hand to her pounding head. ‘I had no control over that! Something took me over! It was like... I don’t know, a vision or something.’
‘Sure,’ he snorted derisively.
‘It’s true!’ With a sickening sensation, it dawned on her: Sukey had been trying to tell her that the Fay were searching for the Trace. Declan might be in as much danger as Raegan.
She couldn’t let him get to her. She had to warn him.
He was still with concentration. She recognised the signs: the tiny fluttering, like the air was vibrating around him. He was zoning, ready to make another break for the open. She had no choice but to follow him, so she slowed her heart down; but once they were both at their maximum points of traverse, she lunged for him, pulling him back further into the doorway. ‘Wait!’
‘It’s not safe.’ He tried to extricate himself. ‘We need to go.’
‘Please, just listen to me-‘
‘No!’
‘It’s about what happened last night! When you saw Ingmar’s wound, how it was... I can do it too! That’s why the Fay are here, they found us, somehow. My vision told me that they’re after us, because of our abilities – we can’t let them know!’
She was gabbling, desperate to make him understand. He looked at her with suspicion.
‘You... you can’t know that.’
‘But I do! And- don’t you see, that’s why we can’t just leave! We can’t leave everyone fighting on our behalf!’
‘What are you talking about! We’d be playing right into their hands!’
She shook her head. ‘I can’t. I can’t let Bree or... anyone get hurt, knowing that it was my fault.’
Declan’s face tightened with fury; an anger so fierce and sudden that it scared her. ‘Oh, who cares about them! It’s our powers that matter – like you said. Forget the others. We need to save our own skins. Don’t be a fool!’
She stared into his face with disgust. ‘I’d rather be a fool than a coward.’ She turned around, but he was too quick for her: in one swift movement he had insinuated himself between her and the door.
‘Move.’
He didn’t.
Anger rising, she launched herself forward, shoving him hard. He fell against the door with a clanging force.
‘I’m still not going to let you past,’ he gasped, winded from his fall. Curtain
s of dark hair flopped in front of his eyes, which were pleading. ‘You’ll have to kill me first. I promised Warwick I’d get you away from here.’
She could feel the Fay growing in strength with every moment; like a black fog, they clouded her senses. The level of noise from inside escalated with each moment that passed. She shook her head.
‘Then I’ll find another way in. You look after yourself, Declan. I guess that’s what you do best.’
She wanted to scream at him not to be so selfish. She wanted to hit him until her hands bled. But there was no more time to waste on Declan Kane. She had to act.
No-one else would die because of her.
***
Suspended in motion, the civilians had been herded into the centre of the dance floor. Cowering in the darkness, they huddled blindly together, buffeted by an unknown gale, in some cases ragged and bloody, but alive; alive, yet oblivious to the battle that raged right in front of them, around them, among them. They were unsuspecting inhabitants of a war zone.
Leaning as far over the glass as she dared, Raegan gasped. Directly below the skylight on which she was perched, Warwick and Adriana were fighting a pair of Fay in tandem; and there was Tyrell, struggling against two. He was losing ground quickly. But then Bree, in a magnificent feint, managed to lure her Fay inward enough to stab him in the gut with both blades in quick succession, kicking up with her right foot at the same time that he fell to his knees. Jarred by the kick to his hand, his broadsword soared into the air and, somersaulting over him, she caught it, landing behind him and lopping off his head with one swift, strong stroke. Transfixed, Raegan started with an involuntary jolt, her fingers flexing against the glass in euphoria. But success did not give Bree pause; straight away she was moving again, leaping halfway across the room to cannon into a Fay who had been about to plunge its dagger into an unsuspecting Tyrell’s back.
Raegan pressed her hand to her head. At least the odds had been shortened. But then, counting again, her brows knitted together in a frown. Warwick had estimated six. Bree had killed one, and there were still four fighting in the room. Where was the last?