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They gathered around her, Byron’s fingers at her wrist. “Her pulse is weakening,” he said. “Let’s get her inside.”
“No,” she murmured, but they ignored her, drew us all into Byron’s home.
“Victor, try to get in touch with Amelia. Tell her to come home. Warn Nathan. He’s at the hospital.” Byron laid a blanket over a trembling Margo.
Victor ran. Niall sat next to his daughter, his shaking fingers attempting to use his phone to call his wife. “I need to take her away,” he kept muttering to himself.
“Death is everywhere,” Margo said, her gaze looking right through me. Then her eyes turned fully blue. “He’s here,” she said in a voice not quite her own. “It’s time.”
“Time?” her father asked. “For what?”
“To stop him.” She didn’t seem aware, her consciousness shifting in and out along with her eye colour. She blinked, and her normal grey colour was back. “He’s choosing,” she said. “Deciding who to kill. He’s testing me, torturing me. Vira said he would play with me. It’s him. His choices. He’ll hurt you all, one by one, if I do nothing.”
“He’ll hurtyou,” her father protested.
“I’m already dead.” Her eyes were blue again, and none of us could stop her from leaving the room. That preternatural strength came back to the fore, her human body taken over by something far less easily understood.
We followed her outside. A car was parked in the middle of the road outside, Eli leaning against the driver’s door. His sadistic smile when he saw Margo made my skin crawl.
“Good morning,” he called out. “Having a nice day?”
Margo took one step in front of me, inhaling deeply. A sharp cold breeze whirled around us, first me, then Margo’s father, then back again. Eli watched Margo as the cold surrounded me. I froze for an instant, my heart pinched and struggling to beat.
“No!” Margo screamed, an unearthly shriek, and reached for me, wrapping herself around me. She pushed back the ice-cold feeling, but her body grew cooler by the second.
“Stop it,” I begged. “Please, stop. I’m fine. I can take it.”
“You can’t,” she whispered. “Not this.”
She stumbled away from me, and too late, I realised that Byron was already running to Eli. Margo hadn’t stopped the cold at all. Eli had redirected it to protect himself.
Byron stumbled, slowed almost to a stop, but kept moving, gritting his teeth, refusing to give up. I smelled blood. Eli was killing him. I pushed Margo towards her father, who had no idea what was happening. I ran, too, ready to reach Eli if Byron couldn’t, ready to take the cold death if it gave Byron a chance to stop Eli.
Eli flung his hands out once again, and this time, a cold, invisible force struck me right in the chest. But like Margo, he was struggling, and we both knew it. He opened the car door, preparing his escape, as he focused on me. The pain in my chest and head was even worse than the cold. I imagined my insides were liquifying; the blood that splattered onto the ground when I coughed didn’t help. I fell to my knees, barely able to breathe. Byron gripped my shoulders, tried to raise me to my feet.
“Get him,” I managed to huff out.
He hesitated for only a second. He raced towards Eli then suddenly slowed down, wheezing. The air itself seemed to die, and none of us, even Eli, managed a breath for a long, painful moment. Vira came out of nowhere and flung herself at her brother with a shriek that sounded a lot like Margo.
He shoved her away, but all at once, life returned. The air turned warmer, and the chill in my chest almost immediately hurt a little less.
Eli got into his car and drove away. A moment later, one of our cars followed, but I was too busy shaking to see who left. Byron went to Vira, who was sitting in the road, staring at her own hands. He scooped her up into his arms and carried her back inside. He faltered, affected by the attack, but he clenched his jaw and kept moving. I couldn’t see Margo or her father.
“Can you walk?” Victor asked. “Or should I carry you, too?”
I swore at him, but I let him help me to my feet. “Where’s Margo?”
“Jorge brought her and her dad inside,” he said. “They’re both safe. How do you feel?”
“Like I swallowed a bag of ice-cubes.” I brushed my sleeve across my nose to soak up the blood. “I’m not even sure what happened.”
I wobbled my way towards the house before finally collapsing in the hallway. I was conscious, but my legs refused to move.
“Shift,” Victor advised. “You need to warm up.”
“Margo,” I muttered, still shivering. “I need a minute.”
Victor sat next to me for longer than a minute. “Seriously,” he said, sounding panicked. “Shift already.”
