City In Embers

by Stacey Marie Brown

  I swallowed. “Sounds like a kinky night.” If he tried to destabilize me, I would return the favor. I leaned farther, our lips close to touching, voice low and husky, my stare livid with fury. “And keep talking, big boy. I like it rough.”

  “Hey! Hey!” Sprig came out of the pouch, pushing between us. “Time-out, kiddies. I am too young to see Mommy and Daddy using whips and chains on each other, especially if it’s not in the fun way.”

  Ryker jerked back, his pupils contracting as he glared at Sprig and me. He shoved me one last time into the wall and twisted away, returning to the edge of the roof. Part of the wall, which used to reside there, was no longer—more rubble no one would notice.

  Closing my eyes, I stayed for a few beats, regaining my composure. Sprig kept quiet, probably knowing it was the wisest call. When I reopened them, I watched Ryker. His arms were folded, and his head bent enough so he could rub his forehead. His shoulders sagged, like he had been defeated. I didn’t know why I got the impulse to go to him, but I did. I went to his side, once again gazing at the city. This time it felt different—as if we broke through something and came out the other side, war wounded and exhausted, but still standing together. His eyes darted to me, and an odd expression oozed over his face. Without a word, I somehow knew he felt this, too. Something shifted. We both finally accepted the other as a partner. Our being together probably wasn’t going to be as temporary as we hoped, and we were stuck with each other for better or worse.

  Ryker smirked and rubbed at his eyes again before he emitted a half-chuckle, half-aggravated sigh.

  I passed a test I didn’t know I was taking. The tension he held in when I was near seemed to crumble away with the wall.

  “Soooo... how are we all doing?” Sprig’s head came out. “Are we going to play nice?”

  “No, probably not.” Ryker straightened, focusing on the beyond.

  “Honesty. Good. If you want this relationship to work, you two need to keep the lines of communication open by being truthful with each other.”

  “Shut up.” I tried to flip the top of my purse back, but he squeezed through the side and climbed the strap to my shoulder.

  “Sprites don’t understand secrets. We say whatever we’re feeling.”

  “Yeah. I noticed,” Ryker and I said at the same time.

  “In our village, nothing stayed private for long. My mother said gossip was good for the soul. Kept you involved in each other’s lives.”

  There was a reply on my lips when I saw three black vans pull in around the building, each on a different side. I identified the government-issued collector vans at once.

  “Hell.” My chest sank. “They found us.”

  Ryker reacted. “What?”

  “DMG. They located us.” I pointed to the vehicles. I had no idea how they discovered us, but deep inside I wasn’t surprised. We were good at our jobs. We tracked, hunted, and collected, and we were able to locate some of the hardest fae in the world to find. The DMG was still fully functioning and had been searching for me since the day I escaped their ambush. It had been only a matter of time before they found me.

  Time was up.

  SIXTEEN

  The doors of the vans opened and familiar faces piled from each one, surrounding the building. Hugo and Marv moved to the backdoor, Peter and Matt to the front, which left Liam and Sera going for the ladder to the roof. The one thing about being an ex-collector was I knew how they worked and thought and the military precision they would use. It was effective and usually resulted in a capture. This time I hoped my knowledge would be their downfall. The only chance we had was we saw them before they spotted us. If I were still asleep downstairs, capture would have been done in a matter of seconds.

  With the building guarded and the roof soon to be invaded, Ryker and I were left with few choices.

  “There are only six of them.” His chest puffed as he reached for his weapon.

  “And those six come with fae-crafted bullets. They’ll try to save me but might shoot you on sight.” I tugged at his arm to move away from where Liam and Sera were climbing. “Even if they don’t, and they use the darts? If we are even nicked by one—game over.”

  Ryker pondered a moment before nodding. “Come on.” He ran for the far end of the roof. There was an alleyway dividing it from the building across.

  “Oh, hell no.” I shook my head, looking down. Vertigo distorted my vision.

  “What are our other choices?”

  “I can distract them.” Sprig jumped off my shoulder.

  “Sprig! What are you doing?” I called after him.

  “Helping.” He shrugged and disappeared behind the structure holding the roof door.

  “Sprig!” I went to follow him when Ryker grabbed my arm.

  “He’ll be fine.” He tucked his axe away, impatience rushing his words. “We have to jump now.”

  “You think he’ll be fine? He’ll probably keel over right at their feet.”

  “He made his choice. We have to go.”

  I bit my lip. He was right. It was our only option. My legs suddenly felt like the shortest limbs on the planet. Why couldn’t I have been eight feet tall and do a split-leap across to the opposite roof?

  “Don’t think. Just do it,” Ryker yelled. He took off, bounding for the other side. He rolled as he hit, coming back on his feet. “Jump!”

  I stepped back, giving myself a running start. “Save my little, broken body.”

  “Freeze, Zoey!” Sera’s voice shouted from behind. “If you move, I will shoot you.”

  Her familiar voice had me glancing over my shoulder. She stood with the dart gun in her hand pointed at me. Liam stood next to her, his fae gun also on me.

  “We don’t want to hurt you, Zoey, but we will if we have to.” Liam said the standard scripted lines, but his words were filled with disgust. The way they stared at me showed the repulsion in their faces. I was no longer the comrade they used to train with, nor was I an ordinary fae. I was far more vile to them. Their hatred of me was personal.

  Sera’s focus couldn’t seem to stay on me for long. Her hand trembled, and a trickle of blood seeped from her nose to her lip.

  “Shit,” she mumbled, then wiped her nose on her jacket, without taking the gun off me. The headache would soon follow. A creased line dented her forehead, and her jaw flexed. I knew her sight would go, replaced by snaking lines and patterns.

  Deep in my brain, it triggered the fact since I’d been on the run I hadn’t gotten any nosebleeds or headaches. Well, not the seer kind. But the thought was so tiny and unimportant, I pushed it away.

  “Better take your medication soon, Sera. Those headaches are debilitating. Might keep you from getting your man...” I smiled, taunting her. “Or woman in this case.”

  “Not me. I will shoot you, Zoey.” Liam took another step, his gun ready to fire. I had no doubt he would. Maybe not to kill, but it would stop me.

  “I don’t think so.” Sprig tossed a large chunk of brick at Liam. It crashed onto his head. Liam stumbled to the side, knocking into Sera. “Don’t make me start throwing my poo at you,” he yelled at Liam, then turned to me with a shrug. “I’ve heard monkeys do that. Now go!”

  I didn’t think. I ran and jumped, stretching my legs as far as they could go. The impact of the roof tore through my jeans and rocked through my bones. Holy shit! They make this look so easy on TV. I rolled across the rooftop, grunts tearing from my chest. Finally I came to a stop. Ryker was right there, helping me stand. Bullets tore past us, zipping so close I could feel their heat.

  Ryker pulled me to my feet, and we crouched as we scurried away. Slugs continued to whizz past us, but we made sure not to run in a straight line. It was harder to hit a moving target, even harder an unpredictable one.

  “Subjects are on neighboring roof. All teams respond.” I heard Liam’s voice in the crisp morning air.

  Ryker’s hand reached for the roof door of the new building, twisting till the knob broke. He shoved me ins
ide, and we rushed down the steps. It was an apartment building. A low-income one. People lingered in the hallways, sleeping on the stairs or landings. Clothing, boxes, and junk littered the halls. I tried to step across a man but slipped.

  “Hey,” he yelled, then turned over and went back to sleep, a paper bag with what appeared to be a bottle of cheap liquor stood close to his head.

  Far below, I heard the front door bang open.

  “This way.” I grabbed Ryker’s arm and tugged him along one of the passages. He seemed to understand what I was thinking because when we got to the middle of the hallway, he slammed his shoulder into a closed door. It broke on his first hit, the wood around the lock shredding. Screams from a woman and several children echoed in my ears as we ran through. I didn’t notice anything more than moving outlines, my focus directed on the windows. We were only two stories high. It was break-your-leg height, but not a kill-you fall.

  People continued to scream and dance around us, even throwing stuff, but Ryker and I ignored them. He yanked the window open and released a small relieved huff. I followed his gaze below. The side alley was lined with old open-topped dumpsters.

  Shouts coming from the hallway zipped fear along my spine. Peter was close. I heard his voice. Ryker shoved me to the windowsill, and I pushed off, letting my body fall. Only a moment after I hit, Ryker landed next to me. The smell of the rotten food, feces, and dead animals spurted up my nose, choking me. Gooey, slimy items I didn’t even want to think about encircled me. I pushed through the bile and tried to get on my feet. Ryker hopped out with ease. Turning, he grabbed my waist, lugging me from the bin.

  His feet were ready to run, and the second mine hit the ground, his powerful legs shot him off like a rocket. I tried to keep pace. And adrenaline did a good job—for a while. I started to lose the energy I needed to keep going.

  “Come on. We are not safe yet,” he chided me. We ran down Fifteenth Avenue to the Ballard Bridge. My mouth went slack when I saw the familiar forest green span. Lightning from the ES had carved a huge chunk from it, destroying one side of the passage. The watch tower, which used to stand in the middle, was gone, leaving an open angry wound. Pieces of it floated on top of the frosty channel below. No railing or even a southbound lane was left, leaving it exposed. It didn’t look safe to cross, but it didn’t seem to stop us. The DMG was more of a threat than an unstable bridge. It was still attached to the other side, which was good enough.

  I glanced over my shoulder to see if anyone was following us. Mistake. The movement caused me to drift to the side. My foot slipped on the fresh rainwater coating the metal. I stumbled, my head diving forward. I reached to grab for an object to stop me. Too late. The steel crossing was no longer underneath me. My stomach dropped as I plunged to the icy water below. Of all the dangerous things after me, this was not how I wanted to die. Taking a header off a bridge.

  “Zoey!” Ryker’s deep voice boomed. As gravity dragged me into the lake, all I thought was, He said my name. He actually said it and not simply “human.” Then I hit. Frigid water slapped my exposed skin. Ice picks stabbed into me, twisting with immobilizing agony. Breath was sucked from my lungs as water wrapped me, pulling me down. This taught me not to have learned how to swim. It wasn’t like I had a parent who put me in classes when I was a kid. No foster parent I had would pay for an extra like swimming lessons. As an adult, it was something I eventually wanted to do but had yet to accomplish.

  Oh, the irony.

  My arms and legs moved frantically but not necessarily working together or helping. Water flooded the messenger bag around my neck, towing me deeper. Panic and cold tore all common sense from my brain. My lungs twitched, screaming for air.

  Sinking.

  My oxygen gave out, and I gulped at the water, filling my lungs with liquid. My mind grew hazy, my limbs no longer working.

  I was going to die.

  Through the murky darkness, arms reached for me, circling my waist and pulling me to the surface. We broke through, and I gasped for air, tugging it in with greedy gulps.

  Coughs ripped at my throat as I hacked up some of the water I consumed. Ryker kept his form close to mine, giving me a heat source. The water had been so cold my extremities became immobile.

  “Zoey, listen to me. I need you to climb on my back. Can you do it?”

  My teeth rattled so hard it looked like I was nodding my head. He twisted me around and looped my arms around his neck, then swam. I floated behind him and curled my arms tighter around his neck, bringing me higher on his back. He reached the water’s edge. Oil and garbage whirled around us the closer we got to the shore.

  He pulled us onto a rocky patch of beach, if you could call it that. I slid off his back and rolled onto the pebbles, coughing and sputtering. My lungs rejected the water I inhaled.

  He lay on his back next to me. “That was an unexpected and creative means of escape.” He kept his eyes on the clouds above, water clinging to his lashes. “If you wanted to go for a swim in Lake Union, I would suggest summer next time.” He took a few deep breaths. “They will be searching for us soon, backtracking when they can’t find us. We need to get moving.”

  I didn’t budge.

  “Hey,” he called to me. “Zoey?”

  Three times. He had said my name three times.

  His hand came to my face, turning my head to him. “Fuck. Your lips are blue. You’re blue all over.” He climbed to his feet.

  “I-I-I-I-m-m-m-m-f-f-f-f-i-i-n-n-e-e,” I chattered.

  “No, you’re not. We need to get you warm before hypothermia sets in.” He picked me up, the sodden pack only adding to the weight. At least Sprig was not in there.

  “No.” I shook my head. I would be damned if he was going to carry me like a baby while I was conscious. But as soon as I stood, the shock didn’t let me do anything but shake like a paint mixer.

  “We don’t have time for your stubbornness unless you want to lose limbs.” He didn’t wait for my response and scooped me up unceremoniously. He moved us quickly through the streets, blending in with the darkening shadows. To me it was still torturous. Every jolt, every time he heaved me higher was like someone stabbed me with a thousand serrated knives. My lungs clenched, and the tremors through my frame grew so violent Ryker had trouble holding me.

  The suburban street gave way to greenery. I recognized it immediately. I’d spent a lot of nights in Discovery Park as a teenager, getting drunk and running from park rangers. Ryker moved past the military cemetery and historic district, proceeding to the more forested, uninhabited part.

  “Where are we going?” I tried to ask, but it sounded more like grunts. He seemed to understand the English between the gibberish.

  “An old abandoned park ranger building. I’ve used it in the past. It should be safe.”

  My lids grew heavier, the trauma demanding me to sleep, but the pain and shivering kept me awake.

  Finally, we reached the bungalow. He placed me on a tree stump while he went around, getting in through a back door. He came back and carried me inside. It was a one-room stone cabin. A fireplace, desk, chair, bathroom, and kitchenette filled the tiny space.

  “I am going to start a fire. It’s dangerous, but I figure there are too many clouds and smoke in this city for anyone to notice this one.” He bent over the small fireplace. “You need to take off your clothes.”

  “W-w-w-h-a-a-t-t?”

  He rolled his eyes. “You need to remove your wet clothes. They can dry and so can you... or you can sit there, get hypothermia, and lose all your limbs.”

  Drama queen.

  As he struggled with his wet lighter and getting the stove lit, I grappled with my clothes. Convulsions rocked me, and my hands were not able to close properly enough to get anything off. The tank top underneath my sweater rolled up, displaying the part of my stomach where I had been impaled. In the water, the bandage fell off. There was no feeling where the tips of my fingers touched. Scaring tissue already covered the week-old wound.
>
  How in the hell?

  A metal rod had gone straight through me, tearing muscle, skin, and tissue. I shouldn’t have been almost healed. The only thought was Elthia. Whatever she gave me must have done this. I detected the medication she put in my system wasn’t from this Earth—an herb from another world.

  Flames flickered in the fireplace, and he stood, turning to me. He tilted his head at the little dent I made in undressing myself. My skin was still so frozen the warmth of the fire could not break through the cold exterior.

  “You don’t look good.” He walked to me.

  “S-S-Sprig?” I stuttered.

  Ryker’s boots tapped mine as he stepped close. He grabbed the hem of my shirt, tugging the soaked fabric over my head. “I’m sure he’s okay. Don’t worry about him. He’ll find you soon.”

  Clear thoughts resisted forming in my head, but I was acutely aware of his closeness, and him tugging my jeans down.

  “Lift your foot.” He squatted.

  I placed my hand on his shoulder, using him as a crutch as he yanked off the tight jeans. The water only glued them to me. It was like tearing off duct tape. With a harsh wrench, I went on my back.

  “Sorry,” he said, though he didn’t sound sorry. He finished taking off my pants and straightened. His arms slipped under my legs and around my back, collecting me in his arms. My cold, bare skin burned where it touched his warm body. The numbness of most of my skin kept me from caring I was only in my bra and panties. He had seen it before as he already dressed me. In our short relationship, he had seen me in less clothing than a lot of my so-called boyfriends.

  He positioned me before the fire, then placed my clothes and all the items in my bag, including Daniel’s book and the goat stuffed animal, along the hearth of the fireplace to dry. Seeing Pam hit my heart. I hated not knowing where Sprig was, and if he was all right.