‘We can’t unleash these,’ Callum said as he stalked down, passing creature after creature. Monstrous, horrific things.
What logic was there to summoning the Wild Hunt with creatures like this?
‘Fifteen seconds before the cameras are back on,’ Luca warned.
‘Go. Now,’ Callum ordered.
Kyan moved.
The corridor bent to the left, so they followed it to an emergency exit.
‘Out!’ Kyan ordered, helping the Nazen through the door, just as the other burst open and the fire team flooded in.
‘What have you got up your sleeve?’ Kyan asked Callum as he took the stairs three at a time.
‘Luca, I’m going to need you to use that special little skill of yoursright about now,’ Callum said. ‘The Babewyn’s bound to the building – sap the power and set it free.’
They took the spiral staircase downwards into a giant tunnel system where pipes ran along the brick. Luca nearly pitched straight into the darkness as they reached the bottom, but as he slammed into the wall, he grabbed onto a pipe and a lash of electricity shrieked out of him so bright and intense, Kyan staggered backwards. It ripped through Luca, making his skin glow.
The building’s electricity went out with a loud crack, the stilling vibrations of machines above winding down like the shuddering of a great beast.
An acrid burning scent followed and Kyan wouldn’t have been surprised if the whole place caught fire.
Luca buckled and Kyan hauled him up over his shoulder, hissing at the mild electrocution. Then he was running down the rest of the tunnels until they came to a fork and took the left, heading to the church.
They ran for several more minutes, now in the secret tunnel out of the Bailey until it rose to a set of steps and reached an old door. Furious, Kyan slammed his right shoulder into it, sending it splintering outwards, right into the Holy Sepulchre Church.
A priest who’d been peacefully eating a salad at the desk of the office burst up, leaves and grains flying all over his desk.
Kyan ignored him and stalked out into the church itself, scouring its pale stone columns and rich dark wood pews for more humans that might spot them. He set a semi-conscious Luca down onto one of the seats, still clutching the little box he’d robbed, before jogging past the flags and stained-glass windows to the doors.
Glancing outside, he discovered smoke spiralling out of the Old Bailey and the sound of sirens growing louder.
‘Did it work?’ he heard Luca moan.
A great crack cleaved through the moment.
Then the stone Babewyn vaulted into the skies, high enough Kyan couldn’t track her, and disappeared.
Kyan strode back inside. ‘What the fuck was that?’
Callum laughed, his eyes bright. ‘First things first.’ He jerked a thumb at the terrified priest whose mouth was still hanging open. ‘Influence that one.’
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Nicole
NICOLE’S PAINTBRUSH JERKED ACROSS THECANVAS AT THEunexpected sound of one of the main doors to Burghley House opening at two a.m.
She stilled with predatory immediacy, her hearing zooming out like her ears were a lens’ focal point: in and out in the strangest yo-yo. Her senses veered out of the studio, past half-finished paintings and towering sculptures of supernaturals.
Verin had been studying the blood pigment all night and into the morning, feverishly reluctant to sleep. She’d checked on him a few times to find him pacing and talking to himself, glued to the microscope or checking the sample against his enormous collection.
But this wasn’t Verin.
She could hear him in the library. It wasn’t her father, either, he was settling down for bed for the evening. Dylan was already asleep in his room. Restless, but there. Even she was wearing her black pyjama set, planning to sleep as soon as she could exhaust herself with painting.
Nicole rose from the stool, gaze arrowing to where Bells dozed on the chaise. Her sister’s cheeks were flushed in sleep, one of their father’s old storybooks over her stomach. In the dim, warm candlelight, the gold foil glinted like Bells’ hair.
