Those days were behind him now, and he didn’t miss them, not even a little. Though he’d hoped to celebrate the start of a new year with her—with Loren. The only girl, aside from his mother and sister, who’d ever truly mattered to him. He would have kissed her when the clock struck twelve—signifying the start of a new and better life with her by his side.
There was nothing he wanted more.
They plunged on, into the final pocket of shadow that remained before they would reach where Randal kept the Well—the tunnel where Darien had seen Christa that night. He remembered back to how he’d tried to walk down this very tunnel, sensing something at the end of it, when she’d called his name, appearing out of the gloom. The perfect distraction.
And a damn good one, he had to admit. He felt like such an idiot.
Shadow stretched on, and so did the silence—until a siren on the streets above began wailing. Darien itched to move faster, but Arthur was having trouble making the long walk.
Something wet trickled down his cheek.Drip, drip.
Darien smelled it then—the metallic reek of blood.
He barely had time to shout in warning before the creature that was hanging upside-down from the ceiling slammed onto his head.
—
Loren’s teeth rattled so hard she nearly bit her tongue clean off as she fired another shot.
Fireworks were still exploding in the starry sky as the civil defense siren began wailing, the high-pitched noise slicing through the night. Down below, in the crowded square around the Control Tower, people screamed and ran. Demons slammed into the revelers, teeth ripping into flesh, bowling over person after person at lightning speed, as if grazing the dishes at a buffet in search of that perfect taste.
As the demons sank their teeth into the revelers, the victims were changed instantly. No longer was the transformation gradual; the hunger for flesh took over their bodies immediately and had them hurtling for the nearest person to quench their appetite.
Blood sprayed buildings and parked vehicles. It streaked the roads in smears of red and dyed the water of the babbling fountain in the centre of the square a deep scarlet. The sizzle and pop of fireworks punctuated the night, forming an awful and mocking contrast with the horror befalling the city.
At either side of her, lying on their stomachs on the roof of the skyscraper, rifles propped upon the building’s ledge, were Dallas, Sabrine, and Hanli. They fired dart after dart, never once missing their targets. The tranquilizer was so strong, the demons dropped like flies and somersaulted into buildings, the momentum of their attacks propelling their bodies onward seconds after their minds had fallen into slumber. But the demons were infecting more people than Loren and the others could shoot, and soon the entire Kalendae festival was a bloodbath.
“There has to be a faster way to do this,” Loren said, firing another shot at a demon that dove for a stroller. The rifle’s recoil shoved her shoulder back, deepening the bruise forming in the muscle. While the bodysuit had helped in the beginning, the continuous jerking motion was quickly wearing her shoulder thin.
“Just keep firing, Lor,” Dallas said.
One more shot, and she had to reload. She was reaching for another box of ketamine darts when her surroundings plunged into darkness, the lone bulb atop the roof of the skyscraper flicking off with apopand ahiss.
Loren’s blood ran cold at the sight of it.
At the darkness that swept into the square, rendering the screaming and crying people utterly blind. There wasn’t a light in sight—not the glow of a single pair of headlights nor one streetlamp. There was nothing to see by but the moon and the stars.
One last firework popped into a smattering of red and blue sparks. And when its glow faded, they were left in a darkness that was somehow worse than before.
Loren never thought she would see the day, but it had come at last. And she knew it was the Well that was responsible, for nothing else in existence had been known to do it—for the Control Tower gave electricity to the city via anima mundi itself. The force binding the universe together. A force believed to be unstoppable.
Not anymore.
For the power grid of the entire city had just gone out.
57
The tunnels plunged into darkness as the lights mounted upon the walls flicked off with apop.
Utterly blind, Darien drew upon his Sight as another demon divebombed for his throat.
Through his sixth sense, the black flame of its aura burned like a dark star.
He parried the attack with an uppercut to the chin. Bone crunched as the demon slammed into the wall with a snarl of defiance, cement crumbling under the force of the blow.
In the shadows to his left, Lace shouted,“Darien!”
He caught the tranquilizer rifle she tossed his way, and as the demon scrabbled back to its feet, he shot for the jugular.
