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“Thanks for showing up,” Darien called over the noise.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Call me when you need me, and not a second sooner. Got it?” He was ripping the bike down the street before they could reply.
The sound of it nearly drowned out the buzz of Darien’s phone in his pocket. He hurried to get it out before it could go to voicemail, answering as soon as he saw his sister’s name on the screen.
“Ivy,” he said. “What’s going on?”
“Loren called me at the end of her shift to let me know she was heading to Hooded Skullcap to get some herbs.” The name Hooded Skullcap spurred Darien’s heart into a sprint. “She said she would be out of there by sundown, but she isn’t answering her phone.”
“Shit.” He headed for his car, Max at his side, probably hearing the whole conversation. He gestured for Max to give him back the keys. Now that the black was out of his eyes, if only temporary, Max promptly tossed them into his waiting hand. “I’m heading there now.”
“Jack and I just finished with a collection in the National, but if you need us for anything—”
“It’s fine, I’m closer than you.” He was already in the car, Max hurrying into the passenger’s seat. “Thanks, Ivy.”
He hung up and gunned it down the coast, pushing the car as fast as it could go as he raced toward the district of Hooded Skullcap.
24
Night had fallen, heavy and hushed.
Loren spotted the bus stop glowing in the distance, a beacon declaring safety. A smattering of stars poked through the black sky, and far above the city, the forcefield shimmered. A three-quarter moon was out, making it slightly easier to see as she picked her way across the field, taking care not to trip on the bumps and hollows in the earth.
She knew she had left the dead zone when she felt her phone vibrating in her bag with an incoming call.
Loren dug it out from under her wallet, eyes glazed with distraction, every movement mechanical. Her mind still spun with the reality of what just happened on the other side of the Chalk Door, but when she saw his name flashing across the screen, she forced the whirlwind of her thoughts to assemble. With a swipe of her thumb, she lifted the phone to her ear.
“Hi, Darien.”
“What happened? Are you okay?”
Loren swallowed, willing her words to come out steady. The last thing she needed was for Darien to worry about her; he had enough problems of his own, and she would hate to add any weight to them.She had come all the way out here to help him, for crying out loud. How had this night gone so wrong?
“I’m fine,” she said. She kept walking, her eyes fixed on the deserted bus stop, the transport shelter illuminated by a single streetlight whose murky glow clashed with dense shadows. Grass rustled against her legs, and crickets sang a shrill tune that carried far. “I’m in Hooded Skullcap.”
“I know.” Darien’s every word was tense. “I’m tracking you.” Of course. It wouldn’t have taken him long to attempt to track her once night had fallen and he still hadn’t heard from her. Knowing he could see her with his Sight eased the last of the tension clinging to her lungs and heart. “Is there a safe place where you can wait until I get there?” She heard the faint whir of the engine in the background.
“I’m almost at the bus stop.”
“Good—stay there.”
A current of wind raked through the field, carrying the rust-like tang of blood into her airways.
Something was hunting. Feasting.
A deep voice in the background said, “We just passed Stone’s End.”
“Max is with me,” Darien explained. It was strange; simply hearing his voice made her feel safe. For a moment she forgot she was in one of the most dangerous districts in Angelthene, an abundance of eyes watching her from the dark. “Don’t leave the lights, do you hear me?”
She nodded. The scent of blood was growing stronger. “I hear you.”
Darien stayed on the phone with her while she sat on the covered bench, knees tucked up to her chin, phone glued to one ear. As she waited, she thought through the events of the evening, picking her brain in search of an explanation for how she had managed to walk out of the Pale Man’s golden habitat alive.
Was it her conduit—her wish? Was Tempus the Liar’s magic still somehow sparking in her fingertips? The more she considered this possibility, the less it made sense. The Widow had called it a wish for a reason. When a wish was bought from a god or a higher being, that god or higher being was required to fulfill that wish when the bearer requested it. And once it was gone, it was truly gone. No returns, no second chances, no freebies.
So what did that mean?
“I’m going to hang up now, sweetheart.” The sound of Darien’s voice drifting through the speaker called her back to attention. “I see you. You’re safe.” He ended the call.
