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"Lasering a hole in the door," Misha commented, his voice showing little concern. "They won't get far."
I swallowed to ease the dryness in my throat, then asked, "Why not?"
His eyes had an unearthly, almost fey, look about them. "Because those doors are rated against lasers."
"How long?"
"An hour."
Long enough for help to get here. Lord, I hoped Jack read his text messages sooner rather than later. "What's it rated against explosives?"
"If they use explosives, half the floor will come down on top of them. This is an old building, remember."
I remembered, but I was wondering if they would. "Why don't you call the police?"
"Why don't you call the Directorate?"
"I have."
He raised an eyebrow. "Then why aren't they here?"
"How the fuck am I supposed to know?" My voice was sharper than I'd intended. "I'm here, not there. I have no idea - "
I stopped abruptly. Through the noise of the fighting in the corridor, and the whine of the laser and bubbling of melting metal came another sound. A soft skittering against metal. It sounded for all the world like little hairy feet brushing across the surface of the door. A chili ran down my spine, and the sensation that we were no longer alone had my breath lodging somewhere in my throat.
Because that sound was coming from above us, from the ceiling itself rather than the door. I looked up. Infrared revealed absolutely nothing. Not on the ceiling, not in the hollows beyond it. Yet those sounds were drawing closer.
My heart raced so fast it felt as if it were going to tear out of my chest. I switched to normal vision, scanning the white expanse, wondering what the hell was going on. There was nothing there, nothing to be seen, yet the certainty that something was there, that it was almost on us, was growing like a cancer deep inside.
"What's wrong?"
The sudden question made me jump. I met Misha's gaze. "Something is in the ceiling."
"The ceiling is not designed to hold a great deal of weight." He looked up regardless, his expression edging toward concern for the first time.
"Whatever's coming at us hasn't got a great deal of weight." I jumped to one side as the laser broke through the door. A deadly red beam shot across the room, smashing into the pillar where I'd been minutes before, boiling the concrete in the few seconds it was on. Then light blinked out, leaving only the glowing edges of melted metal as evidence of its presence. Silence had fallen in the corridor. Whether that meant the Fravardin had won out or been defeated, I couldn't say. But I had a horrible suspicion it was the latter rather than the former.
"Given up," Misha said.
"I doubt it." The skittering drew closer, becoming hundreds of steps rather than just a few. Fear curled through me. My gaze rose to the ceiling again. What the hell could it possibly be? It sounded for all the world like spiders...
Oh, fuck.
Kade had mentioned spiders. Spiders that were invisible to infrared and able to squeeze through the smallest of holes. Holes like the one in the door. Or those in the air-conditioning vents.
Even as fear crystallized, moisture began to drip from the grate of the vent directly above me.
"Misha," I yelled, stepping aside and taking aim with the laser. "Look up. Your master has sent his spiders."
He swore, a sound lost to the sudden hum of the laser as I pressed the trigger. The cold beam bit through the semidarkness, hitting the gathering moisture square in the center. The grate began to melt, and steam boiled, filling the room with the thick scent of burning flesh. Something squealed, a high-pitched, unearthly sound no human would have caught. Then the vent cover came down, and with it a flood of water. Water that hit the carpet but didn't splatter, not even against my legs, though I stood barely two feet away. Horror crawled across my skin as the water began to separate, forming mounds that grew, took on shape, developed legs and heads and beady little eyes and sharp, razorlike teeth.
My fingers clenched reflexively on the trigger, and the laser's bright light shot out again. But the spiders that were as clear as water were also faster than fear.
They scattered. A good half dozen came directly at me, and I pressed the laser's trigger, burning carpet and spiders alike as I swept the beam back and forth.
Something bit my calf, and I yelped. Swinging around, I swiped the spider eating my flesh with the butt of the runt rifle, then speared it with the laser, killing it. More came. I kept my finger on the laser's trigger, almost choking in the steam that was beginning to fill the room. Still they came, a river that seemed endless. The laser grew hot in my hand, and the power light was flashing, warning that the energy cell was near depletion. I swore, and began to clear a path toward the armory. And saw Misha surrounded by a flood of the creatures and barely holding his own.
We couldn't beat them. I knew that then. Our only chance lay in escape - and in hoping that something worse wasn't out on the street, waiting for us.
