The Shattered Dark Page 39


My nostrils flare. I clench my fists at my sides and feel the fury sink in with each blood-tainted breath I take. Lena has been trying to make contact with the remnants to negotiate with them, but screw that. Anyone who can do something like this can’t be reasoned with. Once we find out who’s organizing them, I’ll track him and his supporters down. I don’t care how long it takes. I won’t let something like this happen again.

This time, when Aren urges me to move, I do, turning my back on the desecrated bodies. We retrace our steps down the hall and are no more than four paces from the staircase when Shane’s voice rings out, “They’re here!”

He sprints into our hallway a second later. “They saw me.”

“The other staircase. Go,” Aren orders, pushing us down the hall before taking up position in front of the steps Shane just ran up.

I stumble, brace a hand against the wall, then turn, looking back at Aren and Trev. Trev remains in this world only for a second more, then he disappears into a fissure.

I turn to Shane. “How many remnants—”

“Come on!” He cuts me off, grabbing my arm and forcefully yanking me down the hall. I shake him off but run for the second staircase. Trev will bring back help, and Aren won’t fissure out until I’m safely away from here.

My heart beats in time with the hard, fast music pounding next door. We sprint to the other end of the corridor then down the stairs. Shane reaches the bottom first. A glass door leads outside, but, of course, this one is chained shut.

Shane doesn’t hesitate. He sidekicks his foot through the glass. I’m right on his heels, ducking under the chain after he does.

We don’t exit onto a street. We exit into the tiniest courtyard I’ve ever seen. There’s just one door, wooden and curved on top, in the wall opposite us.

Shane runs to it, grabs the handle, attempting to pull it open.

No luck.

I scan the area, feeling boxed in by the four brick walls. The music is louder out here. Between drumbeats, I think I hear fissures opening in the building we just left.

Shit.

My gaze locks on a metal ladder. It’s almost hidden behind an outcropping of a chimney. It climbs the wall, stopping at a small platform one level up. There’s a door there, cracked open.

“Shane. Here.” I jump, grabbing the highest rung I can reach, then I climb, making it to the platform in a few seconds. I make sure Shane’s following me before I slip inside.

Strobe lights flash in the dark. I’m in the club. Backstage. Thick curtains hang from floor to ceiling to my right. To my left, a writhing, screaming horde of people crowds the floor.

“Go!” Shane yells, slamming into me. “Go!”

I run, sprinting for the packed dance floor. It will be easy to get lost in the mass of revelers, and with the near-deafening music and all the tech in this room, the fae will be disoriented.

We have to jump down from the side of the stage to the floor. I catch a quick glimpse of the band as I do. The bassist, a tall, skinny guy covered in tats, is headbanging as he plays. A cord runs from his bass to the equipment behind him, a cord that, apparently, a remnant doesn’t see. It rips out of the instrument as the fae trips over it. The last thing I see before I shove into the crowd is a baffled look on the human’s face.

“Go! Go!” Shane yells, shoving me deeper into the crowd. I’m trying, but the place is packed. I slip between two dancing girls, then look over my shoulder.

Shane’s gone. I have no idea where, but I keep moving, trying to get to the center of the dance floor. Everyone is pushing and dancing and not making it at all easy for me to get anywhere. Somehow, I end up near the front of the theater. I look up at the stage, see a remnant standing there. He’s in fae clothing and holding a sword as he scans the crowd. I have to assume he’s invisible since security isn’t doing anything to remove him.

I think I might be safe where I am. I can’t see the fae spotting me here. When the concert ends, I can file out with the crowd. I should be able to avoid the remnants.

If I survive the concert.

Despite the cool air outside, it’s hot in here. I can barely breathe in this mass of people. My nose wrinkles when someone lights up something that’s definitely not a cigarette nearby. The smoke gets into my lungs, makes them itch.

Suddenly the song ends. The lights go out. The crowd becomes a sea of lit-up cell phones and…

A flash of blue lightning strikes across a face, right in front of me.

I reach for the dagger hidden under my shirt while I back up, pushing against the crowd as hard as I can, but the crowd pushes back. I can’t get the dagger free. The remnant doesn’t have the same problem. When the lights flash back on, they glint off the short steel blade in his hand. He stabs toward my stomach, but at that exact moment, the crowd reacts, surging around us and making the fae miss.

Miss me. Not the girl who’s tripped into the space I just occupied. Her scream is lost under the fierce, pounding notes of the next song. She collapses to her knees. Instinctively, I reach out to help her, but everyone is still moving, shoving back at people who shoved them.

I manage to grab the girl’s elbow. I’m pulling her up and looking for the remnant at the same time. Someone shoved him. Unintentionally, I think, since it’s obvious no one else can see him. He shoves back, then his eyes lock on me once again.

I need to run—the fae won’t miss me a second time—but if I can somehow get the girl to Aren, he can save her.

“Come on!” I have to yell at the girl so that she can hear me over the music.

She takes one step, then her knees buckle. I strain to keep her on her feet, but her arm slips from my grasp. No one else helps her. They don’t notice the blood soaking her clothes.

The remnant is only a pace away. That’s when the anger takes over. Anger at the unfairness of the girl’s impending death and the brutal torture of the Sighted humans in the building next door. With a scream that nobody hears under the roaring music, I attack the remnant.

It’s clear he doesn’t expect it. There’s a moment of shock in his expression as I ram into him, my fingers reaching for his silver eyes. My nails scrape down the side of his face instead.

I scramble for the hand that was holding his dagger a moment before, but can’t find the weapon. I look at the cement floor to see if he dropped it, but he grabs a fistful of my hair. He jerks my head down, brings his knee up.

Tiny glints of silver dance through the air. Stars, I think, as he slams his knee into my face again.

When my vision clears, I’m on my hands and knees, still alive somehow. Breathing makes my face hurt, but I draw in the hot, smoke-tainted air and look up. Aren is here. He’s wrestling with the fae. Neither of them has his weapon in hand; they’re trying to kill each other with their fists.

Aren dives for the remnant’s knees, gets underneath him, then lifts. I think he intends to body slam the other man, but the fae gets his arm around Aren’s neck, throwing him off-balance. They fall recklessly into the crowd, taking two guys down with them. The humans can’t see what happened; they have no idea what’s going on, but they make assumptions. The first guy throws a fist at the second. Someone jumps in to help, and all of a sudden, the whole place becomes one giant mosh pit.

When someone steps on my shoulder, I realize I’m going to be crushed if I don’t get back to my feet. I stagger forward, half crawling, half standing until I trip over the girl the remnant stabbed. She’s still breathing. Still crying.