“Darien, it’s Dallas,” she panted, forgetting about the crowd watching in silence. Blood slid down her throat as she tipped back her head. “She hasn’t been answering my messages, and the receptionist at Fleet Headquarters said the students went home hours ago.” The panic in her voice dropped to a croak as she told him, “I think she’s in trouble.”
Darien’s eyes hardened with determination. Of her still-bleeding nose, he told her, “Keep pressure on it.” He let go of the piece of shirt as soon as she’d gathered it in her hand.
Before Loren could figure out what was happening, he’d picked her up and hooked her legs around his waist. The crowd sidled farther away as he stalked back toward the fighting ring, Loren hanging from his neck like a chain. She ducked her head and rested her face against his shoulder. He leapt off the sheer edge of the ring and into the sandy pit.
They landed among the mutilated corpses of demons and vampires. Flesh squished beneath the soles of Darien’s boots as he walked across the bodies as if they weren’t there, toward where two bouncers stood watch at a corridor. The cement walls were cast in blue, the flickering bulbs that were mounted on the ceiling threatening to burn out.
The bouncers said nothing as they hauled up the latticed grille to let them into the corridor. When they reached the end of that corridor, Darien turned a corner and descended a staircase, into a changeroom that smelled of bleach and chlorine.
Once he was inside, the cement door banging shut behind them, he set Loren down on a peeling green bench and found a bag of Stygian salts in his duffel.
Barely two minutes passed before Darien located Dallas. She was across the freeway, just south of the Meatpacking District. Near the river.
—
They found Dallas by the Iron Dock.
As soon as Darien had pinpointed her aura with the Sight, he’d ushered Loren through the doors of the Pit, not bothering to change out of his blood-soaked clothes.
And it was a good thing he didn’t, for when they found Dallas, she was slumped at the base of a streetlamp, the greenish glow of mercury-vapor the only thing protecting her from nine fevered and ravenous demons. Passed out on the rain- and blood-damp asphalt before her was Ghost, the Familiar a flickering silhouette.
Darien set about killing the demons, shooting half of them with his pistol and tearing apart the other half with his bare hands. Not one got in a swipe or a bite.
Loren skidded to a stop below the streetlamp and fell to her knees before Dallas. “Dal,” she whispered, taking Dallas’s bruised and battered face into her hands.
Blood was everywhere.Everywhere.
The deep and broad river that was only feet away trembled, water sloshing from the fins of a great creature swimming through it.
A groan slipped through Dallas’s split lips. “Loren,” she gurgled. “Taega… My mom—”
“Deep breaths,” Loren told her. She tried to take her own advice for her head spinning at the sight of all the blood.
Once Darien was finished with the demons, he eased into a crouch beside Dallas. “Step aside, baby,” he said to Loren. “We need to get her to Hell’s Gate.”
Gods, if Taega had done this to her…
If Taega had done this, Loren would make her pay.
—
Dallas didn’t wake up until the following evening.
Loren stood at her bedside and tried not to grimace at the sight of the witch’s battered body. Even though she was finally awake, she barely looked like it, the skin around both of her eyes puffy, shiny, and bruised.
“How are you feeling?” Loren knew it was a stupid question, but she didn’t know what else to say, how else to help.
“Fucking peachy, Lor,” Dallas grumbled. Silence hung between them, heavy and cold. And then Dallas peeked up at her, the skin around her left eye so swollen the lids could barely stay open. “Thank you for finding me,” she whispered. “I’m…sorry. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did about you and Darien. I was…out of line.”
“I’m sorry, too,” Loren whispered.
“Don’t be.” Dallas’s cold fingers found Loren’s, and they were stiff and trembling as they wrapped around hers. “I’m just scared, Lor. I’m scared of change.” A tear slipped down her cheek, and she scrubbed it away. “You and Sabrine are all I have. And if you were suddenly gone, I…”
Loren squeezed her scraped fingers, being careful not to press too hard. “I’ll never be gone, Dal.” Tears pricked at her own eyes as she watched Dallas’s lip tremble. It had been years—yearssince Dallas had cried in front of her. Since she’d opened herself up to feeling any emotion other than anger. “We’ll always be sisters, and I’ll always be your friend. No matter what.”
Dallas’s eyes were swimming as she looked up at her. “Promise?”
“I swear it on the eight deities of the Scarlet Star.” A tear slid from the corner of her own eye. “I swear it on my life.”
