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The material shifted from obsidian to a rosy stone.
“Sunstone,” Dallas whispered.
“The same but different,” Maximus murmured, boots scraping as he approached. “Different but the same.”
The gate rippled shut, colors knitting together like yarn until there was nothing left of the strange world on the other side of that foggy entrance.
It was over.
Relief flooded Loren’s body, the emotion so strong it nearly winded her. She turned, eyes locking with Darien’s.
His were bolted wide with fear, the hands of his family gripping him by the arms, still holding him back.
“Loren.” Her name was a soft whisper on his breath.
His face was the last thing she saw before she collapsed.
—
Darien sprinted across the room. His sister called out to him, and he sensed her following, along with the others, but he paid them no mind as he skidded to a stop before Loren’s limp body. He dropped to a crouch on the ground beside her, glass and stones ripping into his knees.
“Sweetheart?” His mouth wobbled so hard it almost cut off the word. Carefully, he drew her into his arms, cradling her head in the crook of his elbow. “Loren.” His voice was a shaky whisper, his hand trembling as he brushed the hair out of her face. “Loren.”
Clutching her body, he lowered his head to her chest, listening for a heartbeat. It was faint, too faint, the beats few and far between.
He looked up at the others, who were gathered around. “I need to get her to the hospital. Her heart is barely beating.”
He pushed to his feet.
Malakai stepped forward. “I’ll come with you.”
“We’ll all go,” Maximus said. “The streets are going to be flooded with demons until the sun comes up.”
“I just need to get to my car,” Darien panted, making for the exit. “I need to get her to my car, and then I’ll be fine from there. You guys need to help the Fleet.”
The others followed. With Loren’s healing magic sparking in his veins, he felt brand new, not even a limp in his step. Renewed strength flowed through every limb, and his ears were not even ringing anymore.
Miracle. She was a miracle.
Darien started running, using his Sight to navigate the dark stretch of tunnel that would lead to the exit. Once he saw the glow of a streetlight filtering through the grate up ahead, he blinked it away. Shots were fired behind him as the others downed demons that charged out of the network of tunnels.
When he made it to the metal ladder, he balanced Loren’s weight in one arm, using the other to climb.
Once he was at the top, he threw the grate open with an upward push of his shoulder, minding Loren all the while, and pulled himself up onto the street.
The sight of the city briefly staggered him. The streets were black with blood, and there were bodies everywhere. A lot of those bodies were demons, but a large amount of them were veneficae; lamiae; werewolves; humans. A small number of hellsehers.
Their home. Their city—it was fucking destroyed.
Behind him, Max and the others were devising a plan, setting up groups to split into to aid the districts that were still under demon attack.
They were gone within the minute, Reapers, Angels, and Devils vanishing in different directions, Cyra and Emilie going too.
And then it was just Darien, Malakai, Macen, and Brodie. The car wasn’t far, but Darien felt like he couldn’t get there fast enough.
He ran, the others following, bullets firing into dark alleys.
The back door of his car swung open. Erasmus stepped out, Mortifer perched on his shoulder. Concern was etched into both faces, human and Hob.
