“Selena,” I called, storming up the steps to inspect the lid of the tank again. It was as large as my fist, a massive bolt. I yanked at it futilely, my wrist crying in protest, but quickly gave up. My hands ran along the edges, searching for flaws to the seal to exploit.
“I’m here,” Selena said, loud but weak.
“My sword is outside your apartment door. Get it and find away to breakthisdoor down.”
Maren rose to the surface. She moved sluggishly, air fogging as she came near, and something about it sent white-hot panic into my veins. “I already tried,” she said, pointing to the chain in my hands as they tried to pry it open, her voice muffled through the glass. “You need to leave—”
“Hold on,” I cut through her words. My eyes darted to hers, our faces inches apart. My jaw locked, lips drawn wide as I threwthe iron bolt away from me. Wrenching around, I roared down at Thaan, “Where’s the key?”
He watched Maren from beside the desk, lifeless on the floor, devoid of expression.
I swung back, punching the glass. The sound inside must have reverberated in the water. She ducked under the surface to escape it, face pinched in sharp anguish, hands covering her ears. I pulled away, tormented that I might hurt her. How thick was this fucking glass? Vaulting over the side of the staircase to the floor, I grabbed Thaan and shook him again. “Where’s the key?”
But I knew where the key was. It had walked out of this office and locked the door.
Thaan’s eyes focused and unfocused. I shoved him away, my panic evolving into full-blown terror as Maren finally gave up treading over the surface and floated to the bottom of the tank. She sat, knees drawn, leaning one shoulder against the glass wall, hair a wild plume around her head, and looked as though she might fall asleep.
Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck.
“Selena!” I shouted.
“I’m trying,” came an overstretched voice from behind her door.
“Get out here, you fucking little coward,” I bellowed at Cain. But I knew I was wasting my time with him, too. He might not have even been there. Might have taken the key and run. It would have been the wisest decision for someone in his shoes, knowing what I’d do to him once I broke his fucking door down.
The office chair sat inches from my hand, and I ripped it from the floor, lifting it over my head. It flew through the air. And bounced off the glass.
Maren’s eyes popped open. She let out a strangled yelp and heaved to her side, hands over her ears as she twisted into theglass wall. The sight sent my heart spinning into guilt and deeper fear, but I reached for the chair again. Two of its legs cracked, separating from the seat, and I grasped one like a wooden club. Then stepped over the destroyed chair, winding my arms to the side and lighting into the glass with the chair leg.
And watched as shockwaves sliced through the water with each stroke.
Maren curled into a tight ball, flipping over herself to evade the sharp cracks, then opened her mouth and screamed. The sound impaled my skull from every angle, driving into my head, piercing me to the core. Panic ensued within me. Paralyzing, engulfing, it wrung my bones to jelly.
“FUCK,” I shouted, tossing the wooden leg away. I leaned into the glass. “Leihani. Come back up to the surface, baby. Swim back up and get a breath.”
But she laid on her side, ears covered, staring at me. I watched her cough, a cloud of red blooming from her mouth.
And that’s the moment I understood true and raw horror, and the vice that it locked around my heart.
Horror’s voice was the cold whisper across my shoulder blades as I watched her eyes close. Its gaze was the shadow that crawled beneath my skin as her body ceased all movement. Its breath was the sharp intake of air before my scream. And its grip was the world narrowed to a single second that stretched for eternity.
I watched my own personal nightmare unravel before my eyes, and there was nothing I could do to wake up from it.
“Any second now,” Thaan said beside me, watching her as though waiting for something.
Behind me, a steel blade bit loudly into wood.
I grabbed the desk by its side. Not the largest desk, but heavy oak, too solid to pick up. Still, I tried, my arms and neck bulging as I hoisted it off its feet. And threw it.
I’m only human. The desk didn’t go far. But it did land hard.
The vibration of the clash made Maren’s spine arch, and for a moment I thought I’d given her a seizure. But then she thrusted onto her back, the arch curving into her legs, her knees, her feet. She writhed as though fighting the way her thighs locked together, the frothy shield weed around her flattening as she beat it with her legs, and her skin split and resewed at the seams, pale and shining gold emerging from her hips down to her toes.
She twisted. Knotted. Rolled over and coiled, warping, stretching—until she stopped.
I stopped.
Time stopped.
