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One by one, the wolves of Ithan’s pack lost their grip on the door. Until only that one young female was holding it back, a foot braced against the concrete wall, bellowing in defiance—
Ithan and Bryce charged for the shelter, the wolf’s focus solely on the shelter door.
Only three feet of space remained. Not enough room for both of them. Bryce’s stare shot to Ithan’s face. Sorrow filled her eyes. And determination.
“No,” Hunt breathed. Knowing exactly what she’d do.
Bryce dropped behind just a step. Just enough to draw upon her Fae strength to shove Ithan forward. To save Connor Holstrom’s brother.
Ithan twisted toward Bryce, eyes flaring with rage and despair and grief, hand outstretched, but too late.
The metal door shut with a boom that seemed to echo across the city.
That was echoed across the city, as every shelter door shut at last.
Her momentum was too great to slow. Bryce slammed into the metal door, grunting in pain.
She turned in place, face leached of color. Searching for options and coming up empty.
Hunt read it on her face, then. For the first time, Bryce had no idea what to do.
Every part of Bryce shook as she took cover in the slight alcove before the shelter, the sunset a vibrant wash of orange and ruby—like the final battle cry of the world before the oncoming night.
The demons had moved on, but more would be coming. Soon. As long as the Gates held those portals to Hel, they would never stop coming.
Someone—Ithan, probably—began pounding on the shelter door behind her. As if he’d claw his way through, open up a passage for her to get inside. She ignored the sound.
The Viper Queen’s warriors were flashes of metal and light far down the street, still fighting. Some had fallen, heaps of steaming armor and blood.
If she could make it to her apartment, it had enchantments enough to protect her and any others she could get inside. But it was twenty blocks away. It might as well have been twenty miles.
An idea flared, and she weighed it, considering. She could try. She had to try.
Bryce took a bracing breath. In her hand, Danika’s sword shook like a reed in the wind.
She could make it. Somehow, she’d find a way.
She leapt into the blood-slick streets, sword held ready to attack. She didn’t look back at the shelter behind her as she began to run, blind memory of the city grid sinking in to guide her on the fastest route. A snarl rumbled from around a corner, and Bryce barely brought up her sword in time to intercept the demon. She partially severed its neck, and was running again before it fully hit the ground. She had to keep moving. Had to get to the Old Square—
Dead shifters and the Viper Queen’s soldiers lay in the streets. Even more dead humans around them. Most in pieces.
Another demon barreled from the red sky—
She screamed as it knocked her back, slamming her into a car so hard the windows shattered. She had all of a second to wrench open the passenger-side door and climb in before it landed again. Attacked the car.
Bryce scrambled over the armrests and stick shift, fumbling for the driver’s-side door. She yanked on the handle and half fell into the street, the demon so distracted with shredding the tires on the opposite side that it didn’t see her lurch into a sprint.
The Old Square. If she could make it to the Old Square—
Two demons raced for her. The only thing she could do was run as the light began to fade.
Alone. She was alone out here.
86
The city was starting to go quiet. Every time Declan checked the audio in another district, more screams had diminished, cut off one by one.
Not from any calm or salvation, Hunt knew.
