By a Thread

by Nyna Queen

  A moment later Max called “Look! Loooook!” and pointed out the front, bouncing up and down in his seat with excitement.

  Alex turned her head just in time to see the bulwark of Gomorrah appear at the red horizon, growing from the landscape like an ugly ulcer, a nasty boil on the country’s bare ass.

  The setting sun ignited the peaks of the jutting mass of skyscrapers and threw dark red shadows down the high city walls, making it look like a giant volcanic crater full of boiling blood that was spilling over the edges—pretty much picturing the city’s soul to its truest.

  Gomorrha was … how had Darken put it so fittingly? A sink of inequity. Yes. That hit the mark.

  As the biggest city and core of Holloway County, Gomorrha was a stronghold of crime, an attraction point for the dregs of society. It was a place where halfborns rubbed elbows with trueborns and where you could acquire anything that money could buy. And when she said anything, she meant anything.

  For years now, the government had tried put a stop to the criminal activities in Gomorrha, but too many lobbyists and bigwigs had their dirty fingers in Gomorrha’s poisoned pie and as long as enough influential people and high officials profited from the on-goings in the city, these efforts were doomed to failure.

  Darken slowed and took the lane that led up toward Gomorrha’s east gate, one of the only two entrances into the city, both of which were highly manned and guarded, strictly monitoring the constant inflow and outflow of vehicles and persons. The street slowly ascended for about five miles before spanning the Hadez Channel that ran parallel to the highway and separated Gomorrah in the south from gate to gate from the nearside like a natural castle moat.

  They sluggishly wove their way through the thickening traffic that reminded Alex of an ant trail getting busier closer to its hill. To their right, a tall black column covered in arcane glyphs pointed into the dusky sky like an admonitory forefinger: the “post of no return” as the locals liked to call it.

  Alex straightened in her seat. Enough dwelling on her soppy past. Now was the time to be sharp. Gomorrha didn’t forgive any sloppiness.

  “In about two miles there is an exit with three ramps,” she told Darken. “We have to take the second one.”

  The first one was a loop that under-crossed the street and led back into the opposite lane as last possible turnaround before the street narrowed down and split into the two-pronged bridge that accessed the gate—hence the “no return.” The second ramp led down to a wee little fishing area at the river, and the third to the local city dump at the edge of the marshlands.

  Just how many lifeless bodies have been dumped into the river at Gomorrha’s feet and ended up in the marsh, preserved and yet forever remaining undiscovered in that treacherous muddy expanse? Alex wondered, as she watched Gomorrah towering above the hills like a massive black giant.

  When she didn’t offer any further explanation, Darken impatiently tapped the wheel. “And where exactly is that gonna take us?”

  “Don’t you like surprises, sugar?” Alex asked sweetly.

  A shadow crossed his face. “No. I’m actually not a big fan of surprises. Especially not with my niece and nephew in the backseat of the car.”

  No sense of humor, these trueborns.

  Alex waved a hand. “Calm your tits, sugar. There is just—”

  The traffic came to such a sudden halt that Darken had to slam on the brakes not to rear-end the car in front of them. Alex grabbed the armrest and glanced past the bulky four-by-four vehicle that claimed the road up front.

  Ah, shit!

  “We have to go!” she hissed, as a cold hand clamped around the back of her neck. “Now! Turn around.” She made a wild movement with her hand. “Turn around!”

  But before the words had completely left her mouth, they rolled past a uniformed Peace Officer, who waved them over into one of two lines of waiting cars, and she knew it was too late.

  Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, double fuck!

  “Look away,” she hissed at the kids, but the officer was already busy marshaling the next cars coming after them into the lines.

  “What is happening?” Darken asked tensely as he followed the hand signals and steered them into the indicated line behind a red convertible.

  “PO control,” Alex muttered through gritted teeth. And always with such great timing. “They do it occasionally in this area. You know—search cars for drugs and contraband like forbidden magical objects.” Or wanted persons trying to get in or out of Gomorrha’s caring arms. And they just happened to have extremely hot items loaded. Curse the Blind Child’s eyes!

  A couple of cars down the line POs were approaching the diver’s sides and controlling the papers that were handed to them, occasionally asking people to step out of their cars and searching the insides.

  And now? They could go neither forward nor backward and there was no way to get to the exit without attracting a hell of a lot of attention. Maybe if she jumped out and tried to run over to the crash barrier and down the slope into the safety of the trees …

  Yeah, sure, sugar. You’d be shot before you’d made it halfway.

  An invisible ring tightened around Alex’s chest and made it hard for her to breathe. They were trapped! Feeling her rising panic, the spider in her reacted accordingly, pushing upward inside her human skin, hovering on the edge of exploding outward. Her hands pressed the armrests to the breaking point.

  “Calm down,” Darken muttered, rummaging in his coat pocket. “I’ll handle this.”

  “Handle?” Alex’s eyes widened incredulously. “We have the most wanted kids of the whole country in our backseat! How exactly are you gonna handle that?”

  Just how on earth could he stay so clam?

  “They are looking for a pair of abducted children in the hands of a murderous shaper,” Darken said with a crooked grimace, “not a normal trueborn family passing through Gomorrha on their way to Elysea.”

  Alex just stared at him. “Family.”

  “Family,” he repeated impatiently. “Mother, father, children. Something ringing?”

  Now that was the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard.

  “I-I’m way too young to have kids their age!”

  “Aunt and uncle then. Great Mother, don’t be such a nitpicker!” Darken dragged a hand through his raven hair. “I have no intention to tell them our whole life story. This is just about appearance.”

  Well, this appearance wouldn’t be deceptive.

  “Nobody’s gonna buy that!” He was insane. He was completely and utterly insane. Had to be.

  “Just let that be my worry.” One hand easy on the wheel, Darken glanced back at the children. “Listen. Don’t look at the officer and keep your heads averted. Josepha, cover your face with your hair. Pretend to be asleep or something.”

  And that would turn them invisible, for sure!

  Both kids nodded.

  Darken turned to her and studied her critically from the side. She felt the strong urge to bare her teeth at him under the close scrutiny.

  With a swift movement, he shrugged out of his coat and shoved it at her. “Here, cover yourself.”

  Alex stared, first at the coat in her lap, then at Darken. Beneath the coat, he wore a long-sleeved black button-down tunic shirt that showed off his carved arms. Now, that was a really nice biceps right there. If he just flexed it a little more …

  “What are you waiting for?” Darken glared at her in outrage. “Put it on. Nobody’s gonna believe you’re a trueborn lady when you are dressed like some army chick.”

  Nobody’s gonna believe it anyway, Alex didn’t say. Still, she ripped her eyes away from his unduly shapely frame and pulled the coat over herself, covering her leather jacket and cargo pants. Army chick, my ass!

  The coat was warm, and it smelled like Darken, and the spider in her wanted to turn her head and take an in-depth sniff at it.

  Great! Alex gritted her teeth. Something hard and long inside the lining pressed against her leg.
She touched the hard length through the fabric. A weapon, perhaps? In any case, the idea of Darken and a hard length didn’t seem like a healthy combination, especially right now, wrapped in his masculine scent as she was. Before any other part of her body could get any crazy ideas, she quickly leaned forward, popped open the glove compartment and fingered through its contents.

  Hadn’t she seen—? Ah, yes. Alex snatched the pair of huge dark sunglasses she’d spotted while searching for the spare key and put them on. The less people saw of her face, the better.

  They were already next in line.

  “What if the car has already been reported missing?” she asked lowly not to worry the kids any more than they already were. She was worried enough for all of them.

  “That is rather unlikely.” Darken rolled forward a couple of feet. “It’s been barely four hours and the car was parked in a weekend parking lot.”

  “Yes, I know, but what if? And we don’t have the papers.”

  Sweet Jester, they didn’t have the papers! Not even the halfborn POs were that stupid. They would frizz the car and when they did … Max’s and Josy’s faces were the front image on any news report. There was just no way they wouldn’t be recognized.

  Alex’s hands tightened on the fabric of the coat until she heard the seams moan.

  “Relax,” Darken told her with all the irritating calmness in the world. “I got this covered. Trust me.”

  Hah! “I don’t trust anybody.”

  He raised one perfectly shaped eyebrow at her. “Ever? Well, perhaps you should try it once in a while. It’s quite liberating.”

  Alex let out a harsh little laugh. “Trust is like an outstretched hand that too often becomes a knife when you turn your back on it.”

  “How very poetic.”

  “It’s very true.”

  Darken held the car in the line. “All I’m saying is—”

  “We’re not having this conversation. Period!” And then Alex shut up because a uniformed officer was approaching Darken’s window with quick steps.

  With a disgusted shake of his head, Darken reached for the window crank. “Just stay quiet and try to look dazzling.”

  Try to—? Fucking prick! What she really would have liked to do was to let her claws slip out and push them up his arrogant ass, but Darken was already rolling down the window, with the PO waiting right in front of it.

  Alex’s heart hammered in her chest, its thunderous beat vibrating through her whole body. What would a trueborn lady do in this kind of situation? She leaned back and inspected her nails with a bored expression, realizing with a start that they were broken, dirty and that there were still traces of dried blood beneath them. Quickly, she tugged them between her legs, just as the officer’s face appeared in the window.

  He was young, barely stepped out of the academy, she’d bet. His tanned skin and wavy blond hair gave him that kind of hot-surfer-boy look that made you think of sun and beach and naked, sweat-slicked chests. Even inside that uniform. Or maybe especially in that uniform.

  On any other day she’d say he wasn’t one to throw out of bed, but beside Darken’s sharp-tinted masculinity, he appeared more like a lanky teenage boy who’d donned Daddy’s uniform.

  At the sight of Darken, his mouth dropped open and his eyes widened into saucers, which only reinforced the image of the gawky youth. His gaze briefly swiveled through the car, grazing her and the kids almost as if by accident, but immediately found their way back to the obvious predator perching in the driver’s seat.

  Figured. Although Darken was making a palpable effort of toning down the killing vibes he still was what he was. His face had slipped into that cold, haughty trueborn mask that always stressed his unmistakable aristocratic heritage and raised him at least a foot off the ground. It was a face that broadcasted authority and commanded respect and submission. The air around him was almost glowing with raw power and heated danger. Alex could feel it emanating from him in hot, hungry tendrils that licked at her skin and whispered along her nerves. And she was sure Officer sun-and-surf here felt it as well. And it made him more than just a bit nervous.

  Heh! Bet that little PO pub had never before seen a trueborn aristo plucked fresh from the highest branches of Arcadia’s tree of royalty. Of course, Darken was one unique specimen.

  “Officer?” Darken said mildly when the kiddo just kept staring.

  The young men jerked as if he’d been tasered. “S-sir.”

  He fumbled with his walkie-talkie, almost dropping it from his fingers. “The—the papers, please. And your license. What—”, he cleared his throat a couple of times, “what is the purpose of your stay in Gomorrha?”

  Darken leisurely fished a folded piece of gossamer paper from the center console where he had placed it earlier. She wished she’d paid it more attention then, but she’d been too worried about being busted at the time. Still was, actually.

  “Just passing through on the way to Elysea.”

  He handed the papers over to the officer, and Alex got a glimpse of a name: Kaydon Jeroux-something. A fake ID? Full of surprises, aren’t we, Mr. Trueborn?

  She couldn’t see what was written on it, but the youth’s eyes widened even more, and he stared at Darken with the same disbelief of a boy who’d just stumbled into his most favorite action movie star to discover that he looked even more impressive in real life than on the screen.

  Licking his lips, he nervously shifted from one foot to the other. “I-I will need to verify this, Sir.” He sounded both slightly embarrassed and a little afraid to get his head bitten off for the message.

  “But of course, Officer,” Darken said pleasantly, although his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You have to do your job.”

  The youth bolted away. A couple of yards away he started gasping into his walkie. Alex pricked her ears, but they were too full of her own speedy breath and the nervous beat of her heart which felt very much trapped right now. Just like she felt trapped. Spiders didn’t like to be trapped. They were the trappers. The web-spinners. The hunters. Being hunted didn’t suit her at all.

  She closed her eyes. This so wasn’t gonna work. There was just no way it could. Oh, sweet Jester, they were so screwed.

  Darken gave her a slightly bemused look. “Breathe. If you faint, you’ll cause a fuss.”

  Alex ground her teeth so hard her jaw hurt. Murdering him in a PO control was out of the question.

  Only a moment later slapping steps announced the officer hurrying back toward their car in a haste. Oh, right, they were screwed!

  Alex eased herself in her seat, bringing her fingers close to the buckle of her seatbelt, ready to unlatch it and run. The spider tensed below her skin, ready to take charge.

  Maybe she got lucky. Yeah, or maybe she’d be dead in the next minute.

  The cops face appeared in the window again, a slightly dazed looked in his eyes.

  “Your papers, Sir.” He thrust the stack back at Darken.

  Now it was Alex’s jaw that dropped. It worked? It actually worked?

  The youth cleared his throat again. “With the clearance stamp I added on the top sheet, you shouldn’t have any trouble at the other gate.”

  Darken inclined his head, keeping a straight face. “My thanks. Your effort is certainly appreciated.”

  “Sir.” The officer stood tall, slightly swelling in the chest. All that was missing was that he clicked his heels and snapped off a salute.

  Alex fought the strong desire to laugh out loud. It was pure luck the youngster was too busy trying to impress Darken to note her struggle.

  “I am very sorry for the inconvenience, Sir.”

  “Not at all,” Darken said with a noncommittal smile, as he tugged the papers back into his pocket. “We all want our cities to become safer places.”

  Famous words, for a man on the doorstep to Gomorrah.

  “Lady.” The officer respectfully bowed his head in her direction, and Alex gave him what she hoped was a benevolent nod. Might as w
ell have been an insane you’re-such-a-dork grin.

  The cop stepped back and Darken started rolling up the window. Alex felt so giddy it almost drove her out of her skin. Oh my gosh, he was actually buying their bullshit!

  Another PO walked past their car to inspect the one behind them. Everything seemed to slow down to a crawl: the window slid up agonizingly slowly, the glass catching the light of the setting sun, turning it into a golden pane; the man’s gaze just casually grazed their car; she heard Max shift in the backseat behind her; the man’s eyes went past; he paused; frowned; turned back a little; his eyes widened—and Alex saw the exact moment when he recognized who was sitting in the back of the car.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  AH, shit!

  Shouting something, the PO reached for his holster and pulled out a gun. Behind him, the youth turned in mid-movement, an expression of complete bafflement spliced on his pretty face.

  Alex stared down the black hole of the barrel pointing at the front of the car, ridiculously small, but dangerously close, and noted the beads of sweat on the guy’s face, the finger visibly shivering at the trigger. All blood drained from her face. Fuck, he would shoot!

  She wasn’t the only one seeing it.

  “Hold on!” Darken barked and stomped on the gas pedal.

  A shot rang, like a cannon blast, ripping at Alex’s eardrums. The bullet raced toward them, but instead of piercing Darken’s forehead, it merely screeched along the hood of the car with the sound of chalk being drawn along a blackboard. The car slammed into the shot, sending him crashing into the windshield and rolling over the hood of the car. His tumbling body thumped against the metal.

  The children screamed.

  Darken didn’t stop. Steel crunched and groaned as he rammed several cars in the waiting line, pushing them to the sides, where they hit others, causing a domino reaction of crashes that propagated into an undulating picture of destruction.

  Tires squeaked loudly as people tried to bring their precious vehicles out of the danger zone, while Darken bumped their way through the mass of cars, leaving shouts and tumult behind.