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A brief delay. And then, “Fucking barely. Just the spells on some buildings.”
“Not the monsters?”
Another beat of silence. And then he admitted: “No.”
For several minutes, they crouched there together, their rasping breaths filling the eerie quiet. Neither of them had any idea what to do—it was obvious in their reluctance to move, fear and blindness freezing them both.
And then the baying began anew. The howls and the roars—all sounds that curdled her blood and made her stomach quake with fear.
Malakai laced his fingers with hers. “Don’t let go of me,” he ordered.
“I won’t,” she whispered.
“Promise.” His breathing was as ragged as her own. “You have to promise. If we lose you, we’re all dead.”
She nodded—a gesture he couldn’t see.
With a deep breath, she tightened her fingers around Malakai’s. Faced the writhing darkness…the many monsters hunting within, howling at the sunless sky—calling together a hunt that would decimate what was left of a once-proud city. “I promise.”
122
Isley Residence
ANGELTHENE, STATE OF WITHEREDGE
The rattling of the teacups on the serving tray caused Tamika Isley’s head to turn toward the window.
Was this an earthquake?
She picked up the tray that sat on the bed beside her ailing mother and carefully slid it onto the nightstand. On quiet feet, she got up and walked to the window that overlooked the Victoria Amazonica District. With hands that slightly trembled, she drew the curtain.
Tamika stared out at the skyline glimmering in the distance, her breaths quickening as memories of the Blood Moon slammed into her.
The forcefield was still functioning; she could see its greenish hue bubbling above Angelthene. The city was calm—no sirens.
Angelthene was secure. Safe. They were safe.
Pressing a hand to her racing heart, she drew several slow, deep breaths and worked on loosening her taut muscles.
Behind her, the bed creaked as her mother stirred, and a pained groan sliced through the room. Her mother always had fitful sleeps; the Tricking had kept her from getting proper rest for years. Tamika did not want to admit it, but her mother’s time was coming to an end.
“It’s okay, Mom,” Tamika said quietly. She knew she wouldn’t get an answer; the Tricking had robbed Charlene Isley of her speech, too. But Tamika couldn’t handle never saying a word to the woman who’d raised her, so she still spoke as if her mother might reply. Tamika turned. “It must have been a minor earthquake—”
Tamika froze.
The bed was empty, the sheets creased by her mother’s body—by the woman who hadn’t moved from that bed in months.
Charlene Isley was nowhere to be seen.
Tamika’s heart stumbled. Her throat dried out.
“Mom?” she called. She took a step toward the bed, the floor creaking underfoot.
The power went out. The room plunged into darkness.
Silence fell like a cloak—heavy and thick.
“Mom?” she called again, quieter now. A chill spread across her body, pebbling her skin.
