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Two.
One.
They pushed off the wall. While Laila covered for him, Gideon kicked the door with all of his might.
It burst open.
They entered the shop’s uppermost room, their guns held high, while the rest of their raiding squad rushed in behind them. From the center, back-to-back, Gideon and Laila scanned the room, turning in a circle, their pistols pointed at empty space.
“There’s no one here.”
Dozens of freshly lit candles ringed the perimeter. Inside the circle of flames, where Gideon and Laila stood, someone had drawn symbols in blood on the floor.
Gideon looked from the bloody marks to the rafters, which were also empty. The door he’d just kicked in was the only way out. So where were they?
He lowered his pistol, eyeing the shadows cast by the flickering flames. “Where the fuck did they go?”
“Maybe they’re not gone,” said Laila, glancing at him.
Her words cast a chill over the room.
Stepping into the circle of flames, he walked toward the center, where a white casting signature glimmered in the air. Strange, how much could change in so little time. Because as Gideon approached, he was hoping for a different one.
This signature was neither crimson, nor moth shaped. Its thorns and petals made Gideon’s blood run cold.
“Gideon?”
He glanced at the three guards still standing beyond the flames, as if afraid to step inside the circle. Behind them, Laila was staring at something over Gideon’s head.
“I know where they went.”
Turning away from Cressida’s signature, he looked to where Laila’s attention was focused: the long horizontal windows roughly ten feet up the wall. One of them was open.
“You three.” He nodded to the soldiers outside the circle. “Check the alleys.” Moving for the window, he called to Laila: “Give me a leg up?”
She strode over and cupped her hands. As he stepped into them, Laila pushed him upward. Gideon grabbed the frame of the open window and pulled himself into it. Reaching down, he grabbed Laila’s outstretched hand and hauled her up beside him.
Gideon climbed onto the slanted roof first. But the fog was so thick, he could only see a few feet in front of him.
The print shop was part of several blocks of continuous row houses. This, combined with the fog cover, gave Cressida and any witches with her ease of movement tonight. They could be halfway across the city by now.
“We’ll cover more ground if we split up,” said Laila, half crouching beside him. Her eyes narrowed, scanning the fog. “Wait …there’s something there!”
“Where?”
Laila took off, scrambling up the sloped roof and disappearing into the gray, her gun drawn.
“Laila, wait …” Gideon followed her to the roofline. One misstep would send him sliding down the sloped shingles on either side.
Three quick pistol shots rang out from several yards ahead.
Fuck fuck fuck …
He picked up speed, running across the roofline, listening for the next shot. None came. When a silhouetted form appeared at the end of the row house roof, he drew his gun.
“Don’t move!”
The silhouette jumped, disappearing into the gray.
