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“Okay,” I press, “so where is this one?”
Mack fiddles with the device, and then another image flashes over the counter. The map is still shown, but the tunnels are superimposed in faint blue. They crisscross the parts of the city where the houses are concentrated and then merge into one thick blue line that leads to . . .
I blow out a disappointed breath. The tunnels end beneath the Lincoln Memorial. Technically, the distance between the memorial and the safe zone surrounding the Washington Monument isn’t that terribly far—we could run it in ten minutes—but it’s teeming with so many darklings that the area is a giant ball of red.
“They’re probably attracted to the remnants of the old portal’s magic,” Asher explains, his voice softening as he takes in Mack’s frustration.
“Dang-it.” Gritting her teeth, Mack glares at the map, as if she can somehow force it to show us what we need. “It was a good idea, Summer. But with that many darklings . . .”
Frowning, I once again scour the maze of streets between here and the safe zone, each one lit up with darklings. If we try to run directly there aboveground, that leaves miles and miles of ground to cover.
All out in the open, unprotected.
And every second outside this apartment will draw more darklings to our Keepers.
My gut says we wouldn’t make it halfway before the darklings overwhelmed us or we ran out of time.
“We could go for one of the weapons,” I add, thinking aloud. “Just in case of emergency but . . . if we have to use it, I worry the magic would only draw more darklings to us . . .” My heart skips a beat as an idea slaps me across the face. “Draw them to us,” I repeat.
Mack arches an eyebrow.
“We need to move that giant herd of darklings near the portal, right?” Excitement makes me talk fast, and I force myself to slow down and think this through. “What if we used one of the weapons to draw them away?”
Mack’s eyes slowly light up. “We activate the weapon, draw the darklings obstructing the path to something—maybe the water in the reflecting pool?—and sprint to the safe zone while they’re still fixated on the weapon’s magic.”
A giant grin stretches my face. Our Keepers can’t help us plan the mission, but one look at Valerian’s upturned lips and I know we’re on to something.
If he thought my plan would end in his death, surely he would be frowning instead.
The closest magical weapon is three blocks away, stored inside a three-story home that at one time probably cost millions of dollars.
Once Valerian and Asher leave the safety of the warded apartment, the darklings will be attracted to their Fae magic, so I order Valerian and Asher to stay while we get the weapon.
At first, Valerian bristles at my command, his bowed lips tugging into a frown.
Well, someone doesn’t handle not being in charge.
Breathing hard with excitement, I turn to Ruby, who’s zipping through the air in wobbly circles, singing some terrible song in her native tongue. “Ruby, ready to distract some darklings?”
Ruby’s eyes are crossed as she nods her head.
Mack frowns. “She has no idea what you’re saying.”
I grin. “Not a problem. All she has to do is fly around and make any darklings around the house chase her while we steal the weapon. Easy.”
“And not get eaten,” Mack pointedly adds. “Because that’s important.”
I grimace before throwing Ruby a thumbs up. “Piece of cake, right, Ruby?”
“Cake?” she screeches before lurching happily into the side of the stainless steel refrigerator door.
Dear Baby Jesus, please, please let this work.
As soon as we near the home where the magical weapon is stashed, a pack of darklings descend. Ruby distracts them while Mack and I rush into the basement, grab the glowing crimson weapon’s case, and make it back to find Ruby miraculously unharmed.
Turns out, Baby Jesus was listening, after all.
When Valerian opens the door and spots the crimson case in my hand, Ruby passed out unharmed on my shoulder, a flash of pride sparks inside his silver eyes.
