“You saw her create them?” I asked.
Yes.
“Would you be willing to tell Nuri what you saw?” Surely once Nuri knew what sort of spell had been used—and what exactly had gone into it—she stood a better chance of being able to destroy the rifts?
Yes, the woman said. But it will not help. Your only hope—our only hope—is for you to destroy its creator.
“Then destroy her we will.” All we had to do was find her—and that wasn’t proving to be easy. I glanced back at Blaine. “We believe we might have uncovered the witch’s identity, but we’re still a long way from stopping her.”
He didn’t say “try harder” as I half expected him to. Instead, he waved a hand at Branna. We shall hide this one beyond the walls, in the deep pits of the madman’s graveyard. He deserves nothing less after his treachery.
The madman’s graveyard? Was that the one outside the walls? The ghosts there hadn’t seemed particularly crazy, but it wasn’t like I’d had the capacity—or, in the end, the time—to talk to any of them at the time.
Blaine nodded and made another motion. Half a dozen ghosts moved forward—some more “real” than others—and, after picking up Branna’s body, quickly whisked him away.
We cannot help you fight against those who would destroy Central, Blaine continued, because we are bound by our deaths to Carleen and cannot move too far beyond its walls. Nor can we fight the witch or the wraiths.
I frowned again, unsure why he would make such a statement when I hadn’t asked for either of them. I opened my mouth to say as much, but stopped when he raised a hand.
But we can act against the vampires who pass through our city, and immobilize the vehicles that move in and out of the false rifts. It may not stop either, but it will at least decimate the vampires’ numbers and force the witch and her people to find other avenues for their vehicles.
If they were capable of such actions, why in Rhea hadn’t they acted before now?
But the answer was, in reality, pretty obvious. Up until now, the situation hadn’t really affected them. Just as had happened during the war, the inhabitants of this place had shielded themselves from the realities of the conflict until it had arrived right on their doorsteps—and by then, it was altogether too late to act.
I really hoped history wasn’t about to repeat itself.
“Anything you can do to hamper their movements will be appreciated.”
There was little point in saying anything else. These ghosts might be a little late in realizing the enormity of the situation, but at least they had realized, and were now willing to help—and at the possible cost of banishment. And if they were successful, they might just give us something very vital—something we desperately needed.
Time.
Time to find Dream, time to stop her.
We will do what we can, he replied.
I nodded and left. It didn’t take me long to make my way to the nearest break in the wall, but the only way to shorten the time it would take to get through the park that divided Carleen and Central was to become shadow. But I was running ever closer to the edge of exhaustion, and I still had to get into the city unseen.
But that inner voice was now telling me I didn’t have a whole lot of time left—that I needed to get into the city as fast as possible.
Frustratingly, she once again refused to say why.
Which left me with little other choice but to take my alternate form and race through the night and the trees. A cool breeze rustled the leaves and played through my particles, but it didn’t do a lot to ease the gathering tide of weariness. I ignored it; there was little else I could do.
The city’s vast metal wall soon came into sight. I spun upwards, gathering speed. As the light from the UVs began to unravel the shadows and shift me back to flesh form, I made a final lunge for the top of the wall. My fingers latched onto the edge and, after several huge gulps of air, I reached for the light, wrapped it around my body, and then hauled myself up onto the top of the wall. Where I lay on my back, staring up at stars that weren’t visible thanks to the brightness of the UVs, waiting for the wash of weakness to again ease.
I needed time—time to heal, time to sleep—but that nagging inner voice was still insisting I wasn’t about to get either in the immediate future.
I seriously hoped my inner voice was wrong.
I quickly made the minor changes necessary to alter my natural form to Catherine’s, and then pushed upright. After a quick look around to orient myself, I padded along the wall until I found a rooftop where the drop wasn’t steep. I repeated the process, leaping from one rooftop to another, until I found a means of climbing down to the ground. From there, I made my way through the various streets and pedestrian access lanes until I was near my temporary apartment on Third.
But I’d barely entered the street when I spotted two people coming in the other direction.
Two people I knew.
The first was Charles, and he did not look happy.
The second was the chancellor.
And then I saw something else.
The latter was surrounded by a halo of energy—a force so angry it hissed and spat at the air like striking snakes. It was surprising Charles appeared unaware of its presence given he walked right next to her.
That force alone told me this wasn’t Karlinda Stone. That it was, in fact, Hedda Lang.
Or, as we knew her, Ciara Dream.
Chapter Eleven
I immediately reached for a gun but even as I did, she raised a hand and something hit me—a force so powerful it pushed me off-balance and started tearing at my shield. Pain ripped through my brain and the shield that hid me began to flicker and disintegrate. I pushed the last of my strength into it and raised the gun again.
Or, at least, I tried to.
But my arms were now locked to my sides, my fingers were becoming numb, and that numbness was spreading all too swiftly up my limbs and across my chest. Every breath was becoming a struggle; if I stayed here, I’d die.
This bitch wasn’t going to win, and she certainly wasn’t going to kill me. Not that easily.
I spun around and lunged for the walkway, hoping against hope that putting a building between us would break the grip of her magic. It didn’t. The creeping numbness continued to move upward and my lungs started to burn as breathing became more and more of a struggle.
Distance—the only hope I had now was distance.
I ran on desperately, my head spinning and my lungs burning. A dozen more steps and the tendril of her magic finally snapped. The abruptness sent me staggering forward, but this time, I wasn’t able to stop the fall. I went down hard, skinning my palms in the process.
I gulped in air then pushed upright and ran on. Dream would be after me, of that I had no doubt. I couldn’t be found by her—not in this condition, and certainly not when I now knew just how dangerous her magic could be.
I did have the means of combating it—the very same charms Branna had stolen from Nuri—but they were tucked under the mattress inside the apartment. Right now, they might as well have been on the moon.
I found a cross street, raced down it, and then turned right into Fourth Street. The light shield gave out as I did so and a woman did a quick step sideways to avoid me. Her curses drifted after me, but were thankfully lost to the noise of several airbikes going past. Unless Dream had super hearing, she wouldn’t have caught it.
I ran toward the curtain wall end of the Fourth Street until I was close to where it intersected with Victory, and then paused, leaning against the wall of the building, my breath a harsh rasp and my body a quivering, aching mess.
Several people gave me disparaging looks, but none of them said anything. After a minute or so, a woman strode to the door of the nearby doorway and brushed her RFID chip across the scanner. As the door opened, I moved up behind her, pressed my gun against her spine, and said, “Don’t make a sound and keep on walking. If you do anything else, I’ll shoot you. Under
stand?”
She made a small sound in the back of her throat, but kept on walking. Thankfully, there was no one in the foyer and the elevator was already open and waiting.
“What floor do you live on?” I asked.
“Nine.”
The elevator immediately responded, and we were soon moving upward at a rapid rate. When the doors again opened, I directed her out into the corridor and then stopped. “Where is the fire escape?”
“To the left.” Her reply was little more than a squeak.
“And your apartment?”
“Right.”
The stink of her fear increased. No doubt she was imagining all sorts of horror endings, and part of me hated that I was frightening her so much. But this really was a case of life and death, and right now compassion was a luxury I couldn’t afford.
“Can you access the fire escape?”
She nodded. I pushed her left and we strode down the curving hallway. A green-and-white exit sign soon came into view, but even as we approached, the door opposite opened and a tall man stepped out.
“Meagan,” he said, but his welcoming smile quickly faded as he took in the situation. “What the fuck is going on?”
I raised the gun and pointed it at him. “Step back into your apartment and lock the damn door.”
He immediately did so. I stopped the woman in front of the scanner and told her to open the door. Once she’d obeyed, I said, “Now run back to your apartment as fast as you can.”
She glanced over her shoulder, her expression a mix of disbelief, hope, and even more horror. I realized then she was afraid I was going to shoot her in the back.
“I’m not going to kill you,” I said. “I just want to get onto the roof. So go.”
She did so, almost reluctantly at first, and then faster. As she disappeared around the corridor’s sweeping curve, I stepped inside the stairwell, shot out the scanner, and then ran up toward the rooftop as fast as I could. Which in all truth wasn’t that fast.
I didn’t immediately exit, though. Instead, I cracked open the door and scanned the nearby area. The rooftop was a maze of light towers, solar panels, the various bits of comms equipment that sprouted like weeds on every rooftop in the city, and aircon units. Thankfully, there was no indication that anyone was up here.
I opened the door a little wider and studied the curtain wall. Fourth Street was still a long way from it, but I had no intention of either trying to reach it or going over it. Not tonight anyway.
There was no alarm sounding, and the casual manner in which the guards strolled along the top of the wall suggested they hadn’t yet received any advice to be on guard.
I stepped out onto the rooftop and moved across to the street side of the building, using all the paraphernalia on the roof to hide behind. I had no doubt that both Meagan and the man I’d threatened were currently in the process of contacting corps. I needed to get out of this area, but I also needed them to believe that I’d jumped from this building to the one directly opposite. They might not believe it for long, but by then, the scent trail should have gone cold.
I grabbed my knife, made a small cut on my left palm, and smeared some blood across the parapet. It was a dangerous ploy given a sample could be taken and tested, and while that alone wouldn’t reveal my déchet origins, it would nevertheless unveil a number of inconsistencies when compared to the information on my—or rather, Catherine’s—RFID chip. And as second-in-command of Home Defense, it would be easy enough for Hedda Lang to access that information. But I was right out of other options. The wound healed almost as soon as I’d finished. Despite the weariness throbbing through me, my body still had some reserves left. Either that, or I was recharging far faster than I ever had.
I hoped it was the latter, because I was in serious need of that sort of luck right now.
I took a deep breath and then reached for the light shield again. It flickered and pulsed around me, coming into being almost reluctantly, but eventually did solidify. Once all light had been cut out, I became shadow.
It was never going to last long, but it didn’t really need to. I made my way back to the rooftop of my building, found the exhaust vent outlet, and then slipped down into it. Finding my apartment took three tries, and I’d barely made it inside when my strength gave out and I crashed to the floor of the shower. The water immediately came on full force, and my resulting groan was one of both pleasure and pain. The hot water soothed the aches, but the jets were so strong that even through my clothes it stung my abused body. I didn’t move for too many vital seconds but eventually pushed myself upright and stripped off so I could wash away the rest of the blood, grime, and sweat. Once I was dry, I gathered my clothes and hid them—along with most of my weapons—in the rear of the other bedroom’s wardrobe. A quick look at the intercom in the hall revealed it was empty. It was damn lucky I’d encountered them in the street rather than here, in the apartment building. Dream might suspect my Catherine persona, but she would have had proof positive if they’d been standing at my door as I’d come out of the elevator.
But the fact she wasn’t here now didn’t mean she soon wouldn’t be.
Which meant I not only needed to protect myself from her magic but heal as fast as possible. In my current condition, a three-year-old could probably beat me senseless.
I walked into my bedroom and retrieved two of the charms Cat and Bear had hidden, and slipped them over my hands. Energy briefly stirred the small hairs on my arms, and I hoped it meant they were both active. I’d be in serious trouble if they weren’t.
I then shoved a gun between the mattress and the wall, where it could be easily retrieved but not so easily discovered, and started climbing into bed—only to stop again. I had no idea if Dream would recognize what the charms were, but I didn’t dare take that chance. I walked across to the wardrobe, picked out a semi sheer, long-sleeved nightgown with cuffs wide enough to conceal the charms, and slipped it on. Once under the sheets, I made doubly sure I could reach the gun easily enough, then closed my eyes and dropped into a deep healing state.
I was woken, who knew how many hours later, by a hand on my shoulder, lightly shaking me.
My groan was real rather than feigned—being so abruptly pulled out of the deep healing state always resulted in several minutes of confusion and sluggishness.
The hand shoved me again, a little more viciously this time. I slipped one hand under my pillow in readiness to grab the gun even as I stirred and forced heavy-feeling eyes open.
There were two men in the room. One I knew, the other I didn’t.
And the latter was not only armed but had the sight aimed squarely at my head. At such a close distance, a weapon that powerful would not only blow my brains apart, but take out much of the wall behind me.
“Charles, what are you doing here?”
My voice was little more than a croak. That alone told me I hadn’t been under anywhere near long enough.
“I was worried—”
“I sent you a note,” I cut in, my voice holding an edge of annoyance. “Didn’t you get it?”
Something flickered in his eyes, but I wasn’t entirely sure if it was remorse or annoyance. “Yes, but I heard there was an escaped felon in the area, and I wanted to check that you were okay.”
“How would an escaped felon get into a building as secure as this?” That edge was stronger and it wasn’t feigned. “And how did you get in here?”
“You have to understand—”
“Understand what?” I raised my tone and forcing an edge of fury into it. “That you broke into my apartment with an armed guard? One who still has a gun aimed at me?”
He had the grace to at least look uncomfortable. “Yes, sorry, but Officer Richmond is under strict instructions to remain vigilant until otherwise notified—”
“Notified by whom?” I sat upright. I had no sense that there was anyone other than these two men in the apartment, and it would appear rather odd if I remained lying down in such circu
mstances. I could still reach the gun easily enough if I needed to. “Really, Charles, it's rather obvious there’s no one here but the three of us. Or do you think I’m the escaped felon?”
“No, no, of course not,” he said quickly. “But you didn’t respond when we pressed the urgent call button, so we deemed it prudent to come in and check.”
“And by what right have you done such a thing?” I flicked the sheet off and rose. I didn’t bother controlling my anger, and the force of it was such that he took a rapid step backward. “We might be sexually involved, Charles, but there’s no commitment between us, and you certainly have no authority over any of my actions. So unless you and your weapon-bearing friend have the appropriate invasion order, a complaint will be lodged.”
I stalked past him. The soldier at the door stood to one side but didn’t relax his guard any. I continued to the stairs and headed down. Thankfully, both Charles and the guard followed. Obviously, the latter’s orders had been to keep an eye on my movements rather than search the apartment.
Charles followed me across to the kitchen. “Come on now, there’s no need for that. I only acted out of concern—”
“Does that mean you haven’t got an invasion order?”
“He doesn’t need one,” a new voice said. “Not when I was with him and gave the go-ahead.”
My gut clenched. Though the voice belonged to Karlinda, the foul energy now stinging the air belonged wholly to Dream. I cursed the lack of foresight that had me standing here without a weapon within reaching distance, and swung around to face her.
She strode toward me easily, the chancellor’s frail outer shell so at odds with the force of energy rolling off her. It felt like thousands of tiny gnats were nipping at my skin, and it was all I could do to remain still and not react in any way.
“I wasn’t aware it was within the chancellor’s power to issue such orders,” I replied coolly.
“Generally, it isn’t.”