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Shade put the bottle to Malik’s mouth, pushing the main tube aside just enough. She spilled a gulp of the laced water into his mouth and watched as his throat convulsed in a gulp.
“You can’t go into a coma,” Shade said.
Blink.
“I can stop them, but it will mean you’ll be in pain.” Another gulp of the rock water.
Blink.
A nurse burst in. “What are you doing? He can’t drink!” She snatched the bottle away and set it back on the table. “There’ll be another nurse by in a few minutes. I have to go, I’m sorry, but the news says that . . . that thing . . . is headed right for my home. My son is at home!”
She left as quickly as she had come. And a minute later, that same nurse was standing beside Shade again.
“I’ve got this,” Cruz said. “I’ll give him the rest and I’ll stay with him.” She gripped Shade’s arm. “You’re not needed here.”
Shade nodded, numb with grief and roiled by self-loathing.
“Go, Shade. Go and do what you can. This is sidekick work; you’re the superhero.”
The Dark Watchers seemed sullen, or perhaps exhausted, and they watched Shade’s mind with only distant interest as she raced the van back to the port until she hit impassable traffic. She ran the rest of the way and found Dekka swinging her leg over her miraculously undamaged Kawasaki. Armo was waiting his turn.
“Where is it?” Shade buzzed, then slowed down to say, “Where. Is. It?”
Dekka shook her head. “Cops say it just disappeared. Crawled into a neighborhood, shriveled and . . . poof.”
“He. De-morphed!”
“Yeah, most likely.”
Shade de-morphed as well, resuming her normal shape.
“How’s your friend?” Dekka asked.
Shade was panting, unable to slow her breathing or the pounding of her heart. No. No way that monster just walked away. No way it still lived!
“Hey,” Dekka prodded. “Your friend.”
“He’ll live,” Shade said, the words feeling like a lie, a betrayal. He might live. But he would never again be Malik.
And she would never be free of guilt for what she had done.
Dekka knew that look. She had seen it on Sam’s face after bloody battles. And she knew that he had seen it on her face as well.
“You have to let it go,” Dekka said, knowing there was no way, no way at all, for the girl standing before her to do that.
“I’m going to kill it.” The words grated. Shade’s mouth twisted down and tears filled her eyes again. “I’m going to kill it!”
Dekka nodded wearily. “Well, maybe so.”
“You’re Dekka Talent,” Shade said, eyes blazing. “I know you. I know all about you. I need your help. I need you to help me, help me, help me kill that fucking thing!”
Dekka waited patiently while Shade Darby, the girl who held her emotions under iron control, stopped screaming.
“Listen to me,” Dekka said. “I know. I know exactly how you feel. Exactly. But honey, it’s not one battle, it’s a war.” She picked around in her saddlebags and came up with a piece of paper bag. “Damn, I don’t have anything to write with.”
Shade stared at her through burning eyes. Then she raked one fingernail down the inside of her arm, gouging the flesh. Blood seeped. She held her bloody arm out for Dekka.
And Dekka touched her arm and used the blood to write on the paper bag. “Email.”
