A teenage girl jumped up from where she’d been sitting at the edge of the room, assuming a fighting stance as she did so. It was the girl from under the bridge. Kat.
Liv’s flashlight app lit up the strange girl’s features. Even though Kat’s face was contorted with confusion and she wore what looked like a loose nightgown over a grimy pair of jeans, she was still one of the most beautiful girls Liv had ever seen, outside of a movie screen. Her dark eyes scanned Liv’s face as she approached.
“Who are you?” Kat asked, her voice high and forceful.
“Cedric sent me,” Liv choked out.
“Cedric?” Kat moved forward, closer to Liv. Her eyes narrowed. “Wait, I remember you . . .”
“Cedric’s in trouble,” Liv breathed out. “He’s right outside fighting this group of men. Of . . . um, wraths. There’s so many of them . . .”
Understanding dawned on Kat’s face. In a movement almost too quick for Liv’s eyes to follow, she dropped to the floor and picked up something shiny. It was the sword that had sat in Liv’s room for two months—Cedric must have reclaimed it from the Acquisitions Department. Kat gripped the hilt and pushed her way past Liv without a second glance.
“I’ll just, uh . . . follow you, then,” Liv called after her, weakly.
Kat’s footsteps were already fading away through the tunnel.
When Liv finally made her way back to the grate and crawled back into the alley, the first thing she noticed was that the fight had gotten closer. The men had pressed in toward the recesses of the alley, blocking off the view of the street.
Someone yelled out in pain.
“Cedric,” Liv whispered, then took off toward the fight. The logical part of Liv’s brain screamed out at her to stop, but she ignored it, running faster and faster down the concrete alleyway. It was only when she finally reached the tight circle of fighting that she halted abruptly, her shoes screeching against the pavement. Instead of jumping in to help, she could only stare in amazement at what unfolded around her, bright and strange as a movie sequence.
The alley was only about ten feet across from wall to wall, and nearly the entire width of the space was filled with the sights and sounds of fighting. Liv saw Kat toss Cedric the sword through the air. He caught it in one hand midwhirl, and somehow seemed more balanced with the large blade than without it.
Kat squared off against a burly, blond man in a torn Metallica T-shirt. Just like the others, he had jet-black eyes and a pointy grimace. He slashed out with one of his hands, aiming for the smooth skin of Kat’s right cheek with fingernails that were sharpened to pointed bits, almost like claws.
Kat held up her hand to ward off the blow, then ducked under the man’s grasp. Clenching his arm in her own small hands, she wrenched it downward, snapping it over her knee. Physically, it shouldn’t have been possible. For someone as slight as Kat to get that kind of leverage over her attacker and to exert enough force to break his arm . . . it went against the laws of nature. Liv wouldn’t have believed it had she not heard the crack of bone from where she stood.
Against one wall, Cedric and Merek were fighting more of the wraths. One of the black-eyed men charged at Merek, and before the two collided, Merek swerved to his left, grabbed the man from behind, and used his momentum to throw him against the side of the museum. When the man’s head hit the wall, the bricks behind him cracked and crumbled, falling in pieces to the ground. Again, it shouldn’t have been possible. It shouldn’t have happened. But it had.
And Cedric, he was all speed. He moved so fast between two of the hulking men that Liv could barely see him, aside from a kick here or a whirled blade there. The two attackers grunted in frustration as their fists missed their target, again and again. Cedric moved with precision and accuracy, but also with a kind of grace. And his face . . . though his expression was set in determination, Liv could swear he was almost smiling. He leaped off the ground—higher than Liv thought a person should be able to leap—and kicked a man in the jaw. Then he landed on his own feet with hardly a grunt and kept fighting.
Liv sucked in a breath as her eyes bounced from Cedric to the others, watching them break the laws of physics as they fought. They looked like, well, like superheroes, fighting off the bad guys in the third act of the movie.
Except this wasn’t a movie. This was real.
Everything in the world seemed to shift slightly. Liv couldn’t argue with what she was seeing happen with her own eyes. But none of it made sense, either. It didn’t fit into the real world that she knew, the world that she’d always known. Was she going crazy? Or was it that . . . was it that Cedric wasn’t lying? That everything he’d told her was true?
And if that was the case, then . . .
Liv struggled to think straight. Cedric said he’d come through a portal from another world. That he’d been raised to fight monsters with all-black eyes and superstrength. Liv looked at the disfigured men around her, letting the truth sink in. They weren’t on drugs; they weren’t part of a strange cult or a group of Anne Rice fan boys. They weren’t human at all.
“Holy. Shit.”
The whispered words were barely out of Liv’s mouth before something knocked into her from behind. Liv fell face-first to the ground and hit it, hard. She tried and failed to cry out, unable to pull in a breath. Craning her neck, Liv saw one of the wraths perched over her, knee pressed into her back. It was the black-haired wrath who had attacked her the night before.
“I’ve got her!” The wrath called out in a rough voice.
“Hold her there,” another low voice responded.
Liv looked to the others, but they were all still busy fighting. No one had noticed her go down.
The second wrath approached. A large one, with a shock of white-gray hair. The man who’d stared at her on the bus. He looked down at Liv with hungry eyes, then to the black-haired wrath. “Well?”
Liv pushed up off the ground with all her might, but the black-haired wrath still had his knee located firmly in her back, and one hand clutching tightly at the back of her jacket. He pushed her back down to the pavement, and Liv heard her jacket tearing. She looked back again and saw the wrath staring down at her exposed skin. His black eyes narrowed, his features contorting into something that might be construed as a smile.
“Well done, Varl,” the wrath from the bus said. “You were ri—”
The wrath’s head whipped around at a sound in the distance—sirens. In the instant he was distracted, Cedric appeared and slammed his entire body into the black-haired wrath, Varl, knocking him off Liv in one ungraceful yet effective movement.
Liv scrambled to her feet, just in time to jump away from the grasp of the white-haired wrath. His grin revealed a row of overcrowded, pointy teeth. Liv screamed.
“Kat!” Cedric called out, still fighting with Varl on the ground. “Help!”
The white-haired wrath grabbed for Liv again, his smile contorting into a snarl. The sirens grew louder. Liv curled her hands into fists, hoping she could keep the advancing wrath at bay until the police arrived.
Kat got there first.
She jumped into the white-haired man’s path and aimed a roundhouse kick that he quickly dodged. Kat pursued, throwing punch after punch until one landed on the wrath’s jaw.
Kat stopped punching when red and blue lights fell over the brick and concrete. Liv looked up to see two squad cars pulling up to the mouth of the alley.
“Finally,” she muttered.
The wraths noticed the police, too. Many of them stopped fighting, instead looking from the cop cars to one another, as if deciding what to do. Cedric disentangled himself from Varl and jumped up.
“We must leave,” he said. “Now.”
The white-haired wrath whipped his head back in Cedric’s direction. He’d made his decision. Turning his back on the cops, he squared off to face Cedric and his friends. The other wraths quickly followed suit.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he said.
“Chath,
what about—” Varl said, gesturing toward the cops.
The white-haired wrath, Chath, snorted. “They cannot hurt us. And neither can the royals. If they had silver, they would have used it by now.” Chath grinned. “But we can hurt them.”
Chath nodded his head in Liv’s direction, and Varl leaped out toward her.
This time, Liv didn’t wait for Cedric or Kat to jump in the way of the charging wrath. She ran. She dodged around Varl and nearly collided with the alley wall. Instead, she pushed herself off it and kept racing ahead, straight toward the cops.
“Help!”
“Liv, no!” Cedric was running right behind her.
Liv turned around in surprise as Cedric caught up to her easily, grabbing her wrist.
“Everybody stay where you are!” a gruff voice called out. Two officers jogged toward them from the mouth of the alley. One talked into his walkie-talkie as he ran.
“Liv,” Cedric said, his voice low and urgent. His eyes darted between the cops and Kat, who was once again fighting with the wraths nearest to her. “Those men cannot help us. We must run.”
“But . . . ,” Liv sputtered. She looked up and saw Kat getting knocked to the ground by a hulking wrath.
“Trust me. Please,” Cedric said. His eyes raked over hers, intense. He didn’t seem to notice that he was still gripping her arm.
Liv looked back at the police as they took formation along the alley.
“He’s got a weapon.”
Liv’s chest seized as the officers nearest to her pulled out their guns. They were looking at Cedric, who still held the long sword in one hand. His eyes were on her, begging. She nodded.
Cedric lifted Liv off the ground and sprinted backward before she could say another word. They moved so fast that the shapes passing by Liv condensed into one unfocused blur. In just a few seconds, they were standing back with the others, who continued to grapple with the wraths.
“Move out, now!” Cedric screamed. His voice blended into the commands being shouted by the police officers. Chath was also screaming orders, but Liv couldn’t pick one voice from another in the chaos. She saw Kat free Merek from the grip of a wrath. Varl stood frozen, eyes bouncing between Cedric and the officer who was quickly approaching him. He charged the officer, knocking his gun down and throwing him back against the brick wall in a fraction of a second. The officer smashed into the wall and crumpled to the ground, motionless.
Liv let out an involuntary gasp, her breath catching in her throat.
And then they were running, racing toward the back of the alley, away from the cops and the wraths both. Liv knew they were running in the opposite direction of her car, but she couldn’t get her mind to work right to say something. It was stuck on the image of the police officer’s head hitting the brick wall. She heard one gunshot, then another, but refused to look back.
Cedric still carried Liv, tight against his side, as they finally reached the back of the alley. He turned left just before the fence, running down a second alley that butted up against the rear of the park. Another turn, this one toward the massive USC Coliseum, and soon the sounds of the fight faded behind them. Liv could only hear the labored sound of Cedric’s breathing, the racing of his heart, the paces of his friends as they ran and ran and ran.
They finally made it to a large parking lot, and Liv found herself breathing normally. Her thoughts were less muddled by fear. “Cedric,” she said, turning her head to face his. “Cedric, stop,” she said.
His body slowed from a sprint into a human-capable jog, and then a walk.
“You can put me down, please,” Liv said.
Slowly, Cedric’s arms released from around her waist, and he set her down on the pavement behind a giant parked SUV. She felt better the instant she was once again standing on her own two feet. The others came up behind them, slowing to a stop as well.
“Is anyone injured?” Cedric asked. Merek shook his head, but Kat motioned to her shoulder.
“Dislocated,” she said, matter-of-fact. Liv could only detect a hint of pain in her face when Cedric gently reached out and touched her shoulder.
“I can put it right when we get somewhere safe,” Kat said. “Where did the men in blue come from?”
Cedric shook his head and ran a hand through his hair.
“Oh, uh . . . I called them . . . ,” Liv said.
Kat muttered something under her breath. Liv looked around at each of them, shaking her head. “You were being attacked. By a group of seriously pissed-off looking guys—”
Cedric looked at her in disbelief. “Wraths. I told you they were wraths!”
“Well, I know that now!” Liv yelled back. “But at the time, I didn’t believe they were . . .”
. . . Monsters. Liv had called the LAPD to fight a gang of monsters. She saw the police officer again, the way he’d hit the brick wall, the way he’d slid to the ground. That was her fault.
Cedric let out an exasperated sigh and turned away from Liv, toward Merek. “What I don’t understand,” he said, in a strained voice, “is what those wraths were doing chasing you?”
Merek’s face drained of color.
“You went after them, didn’t you? You went against me and sought out the wraths to speak to them, as though they were creatures to be reasoned with!”
“Not exactly,” Merek said.
“Merek,” Kat put in, “you told me you were looking for food.”
“I was not going to talk to them, only to see if they were still near the museum and maybe try to track them. But then they found me—”
“You expect me to believe that?” Cedric looked incredulous.
“I honestly do not care what you believe,” Merek retorted.
“Do you care about anything? We could all have been killed tonight.”
Merek’s jaw tightened, and he averted his eyes to look at the ground.
“We do not have time for this now,” Kat said. “We cannot stay here.”
Cedric and Merek continued to glare at each other, but neither said another word.
Liv looked back in the direction of the museum. “The police are right by my car. We’ll never get past them. I think we should get to a busy street and try to blend in with the crowd.”
“And why should we do what you say?” Kat’s voice turned from sensible to biting as she turned to Liv with narrowed eyes. “Who are you, anyway?”
“I’m the only one here who knows my way around this city,” Liv shot back.
For a moment, Cedric looked between the two girls. His gaze finally settled on Liv. “Do you know somewhere safe we can go?”
Kat’s jaw clenched, and she looked away. Liv ignored her and pulled out her phone.
“Not only that, but I know who can get us there, too.”
THE UNAVOIDABLE TRUTHS
The gray minivan pulled up twenty minutes later, then skidded to a halt just outside of the Laundromat doorway where Liv waited with Cedric and the others. The passenger-side window rolled down, revealing Shannon’s black-and-red locks and her incensed face.
“Liv! What the hell?”
Liv stepped forward and rested her hands on the van’s window. “Hey, Shannon.”
“Hey, Shannon? Hey, Shannon? I don’t hear from you since yesterday, Joe’s been calling me to see if I know where you are, and then I steal my mom’s van—which was much more difficult the second time around, by the way—to come pick you up halfway across town and all you can say is ‘Hey, Shannon?’”
Liv waited for Shannon to take a breath. “Thanks for coming. And for covering with Joe. And for stealing the minivan. But . . . we kind of need a ride. Then I can explain.”
“We?”
Liv gestured to where Cedric and the others stood behind her.
Shannon looked past Liv, and her mouth fell open. “Oh my God, is that . . . are they who I think they are?”
“It’s kind of a long story,” Liv said.
Shannon continued to stare. “I’m sure.”
�
��But we really need to get out of here, like, five minutes ago. So . . .”
Shannon shook her head in slow disbelief, then leaned back in the driver’s seat. “Okay, get in. But I’m going to need more details.”
Liv waved her hand to Cedric, who stepped forward, the others close behind. One by one, they all climbed into the van.
Shannon turned to Liv in the passenger seat and whispered, “Are you in trouble?”
Liv swallowed. “Kinda. Can you take me to Echo Park? Near Alvarado.”
“Curiouser and curiouser,” Shannon mumbled, rolling her eyes, but she put the car into drive and slipped back into the traffic on the street. Liv took the opportunity to pull out her phone and saw six missed calls from Joe. Damn. She put the phone away.
While she drove, Shannon sneaked peeks at the others through the rearview mirror. Her eyes landed on Cedric, and then on the sword he still gripped in his hands. Her eyebrows shot up.
Liv wondered how much of the truth she’d be able to tell Shannon. Certainly nothing about wraths or portals or teenage royals from another world. She’d seen that insane fight go down with her own two eyes and she still had to remind herself every few minutes that it was all actually real, and not just a weirdly vivid hallucination.
“So what’s in Echo Park?” Shannon asked. “Since we’re already on the way and all.”
“Remember freshman year, when I was staying with the Hopmans?”
Shannon’s hands tightened on the wheel. “Yes,” she whispered.
The Hopmans were a particularly mediocre set of foster parents Liv had lived with for about six months. They were drunks, but not like Rita. Not like her at all.
“That was when I tried to set you up in my garage and my mom caught us.”
Liv nodded. “And I had nowhere else to go, so I ran.”
Shannon’s eyebrows wrinkled. “I thought Joe put you in a group home?”
“He did, eventually,” Liv said, careful with her words. “But I was on my own for a while. I fell in with some kids who helped me out. . . .”
“Like, runaways?” Shannon pursed her lips.
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