Idris looked up in grief and dismay. “Kara, it’s going to blow! I can’t hold it.”
“I know,” I said calmly. “It’s all right. Just do what I tell you, okay?”
The bean shifted, and her tail snaked under the waistband of my jeans and over my lower back. The twelfth sigil ignited in a blaze of peacock blue that dominated my senses as if someone had shoved a blue filter in front of the sun. Gooseflesh raced over my skin in waves of hot and cold. “Be careful, kid,” I said under my breath. “That thing is dangerous.”
Emerald green potency fountained from the valve. Pellini seized it, worked it into strands which he passed to Idris. Jaw set, Idris gingerly attached the strands to eggs and ran them down the shaft as directed, fluorescent green stripes against the blue. To dampen the blast through the valve system. This was one brilliant baby. Dragon. Demon. Whatever she was.
“This isn’t going to work,” Idris said. His expression showed exasperation, but aching fear shone from his eyes. He swallowed. “I should’ve tried dis—”
“It’s not going to stop the blast, but it will dampen it,” I insisted. “It will. Just finish the last one and trust me.”
Idris flicked his eyes to the demon-dragon-baby on my shoulder then back to the ugly eggs. He pulled a trembling hand over his mouth, hesitating as doubt flared, in himself, in the plan. It was up to him, one way or another. Up to him to save everyone.
He took the last strand from Pellini and brought it to the last egg, but before he could attach it another tremor shook the valve. The strand slipped from his grasp, flailed like a time-lapse of ivy seeking purchase and slapped against the egg.
Cracks fissured over the egg’s surface, and black light spewed forth while the other ten egg things radiated soft green.
The impending explosion of the one egg built as pressure in my chest until I was certain my heart would stop beating. “Stay close,” I called out to anyone within earshot. “Everyone. Get close. And stay that way.”
Idris sat back on his heels. Shock and disbelief radiated from him. I failed everyone. His thoughts flowed through me like water. I’m not supposed to die this way! It’s too soon.
The pressure in my chest squeezed my breath away. Blue-green snakes of potency whipped outward from beneath my feet like wriggling spokes from a hub.
Pellini put his hands to his head. Fuck. Bryce’ll take care of Sammy, right? God, I hope so. Shit. At least Boudreaux’s clear. More thoughts that I couldn’t shut out.
The twelfth sigil cooled. The blue-green spokes of potency continued to lengthen. Twenty feet. Icy. Fifty feet. Burning cold. Another foot. No more.
Silent words and impressions tumbled over me from people farther away. It’s probably that damn fracking. The prisoners. Gotta do something. Jesus, I’m sweating my ass off. Ugh, I left my cigarettes in my desk. How could the lords stand the constant barrage?
The bean shrieked by my ear, a terrible sound of frustration. The spokes melted into a blue-green carpet and a sensation like being submerged in water closed in.
A protective cocoon. It was all the bean could do.
I’m so sorry, Amber. I couldn’t avenge you.
Will I go to hell?
And then silence. A flash of ruddy light beneath me. Tame, then not. Beyond the perimeter of the blue-green sanctuary, everything blurred, vibrated. The cocoon dissolved, and with it my arcane sense. Surroundings snapped into sharp focus. Sound crashed in. Screams. The crack of concrete. The shriek of twisting steel. The crash of glass. Horror clawed within me as a portion of the station collapsed in upon itself. The entire front half of City Hall disintegrated into rubble. And then buildings beyond it. Trembling, crumbling. And more beyond those. Like a five minute earthquake compressed into the span of a heartbeat. Nightmare. Impossible. And real.
Chapter 38
Smoke and gas and blood. Shouts and orders and screams. Panic and fear and determination.
Dust choked the air, and water fountained from a broken hydrant. Concrete and rebar groaned and creaked as it settled into ungainly piles. The entire front of the three-story City Hall lay in the street. More than two thirds of the PD had collapsed, and tears sprang to my eyes as I took in the sight. Surely everyone had made it out? They were still my people even if I didn’t work there anymore. The station would always be special to me—a place I’d called home.
I tore my eyes away from the ruin. “How is it?” I asked Idris.
“Don’t know yet,” he said, hands shaking as he worked them over the valve.
I didn’t want to think about the number of casualties in the blast radius—couldn’t think about it if I wanted to keep going. But without the bean’s intervention it would have been much worse.
She scuttled around to cling to my chest, her back claws hooked on the waistband of my jeans. She spread her wings and brought her scaly snout to within an inch of my nose, her eyes fixed on mine. I steeled myself for a baby dragon-demon surprise of who-knew-what instructions, but instead she stretched her fanged jaws wide in an almighty yawn. Aww, she was a tired baby.
I cradled her close in an awkward wingy sort of way. “You did damn good, kiddo,” I murmured, then sighed. Crap. Not half an hour old, and she’d heard me curse. Oh, well, best for her to get used to it. “Y’think you can give your poor mama a break and look human when she first sees you?” I said with a soft smile. “She’s been through a lot for you.”
She let out an adorable little burble and made an unsettling shift that left me feeling as if I held a bag full of wiggly kittens. White scales transformed to soft skin, and her tail shrank to a stub. She waved her wings once before they quivered and morphed into smooth skin on her back. The dragon face shifted into something humanish—except it swiveled on the end of a disturbingly long neck. I stooped and picked up the red silk that had wrapped Katashi’s arm and tucked it around her.
“C’mon, sweetie, all the way human,” I urged. “Do it for your mommy.” I glanced at said mommy. Bedraggled and dazed, Jill slid down from the backseat, staggered a few steps then collapsed to sit against the rear wheel of the truck with one hand on her belly. “She deserves a break,” I went on, “and she needs your help right now.”
The bean tick-growled, but she adjusted her neck to a reasonable human baby length and shrank the stub of her tail away. She was still a lot bigger than a typical newborn, but at least she looked like a baby now—mostly. She yawned, a bit too wide, revealing several rows of pointy teeth. And the blink of her inner eyelids was way weirder on a baby than a dragon. I tried to wrap her in a Kara version of a swaddle but, when claws emerged from her fingertips, I got the message and left the cloth loose around her. “Put the claws away,” I murmured as I held her close and hurried over to Jill.
“Hey, chick,” I said with a smile. “Got someone who wants to say Hi.”
Jill lifted her head as I crouched. The distress vanished from her face at the sight of the bundle in my arms, and she took the bean from me with a choked gasp.
“She’s pretty kickass,” I said with a warm smile as Jill made cooing noises at her baby. “Just like her mom.”
Jill brushed her lips over the bean’s head, made more mommy-to-baby noises then finally looked up at me. “What happened? I was ready to whack you for doing that counting thing . . . and the rest is hazy.” She bit her lip. “Something really bad happened, but I don’t remember.” Worry swept over her face, and she held the bean closer, mama instinct in full force. Already I saw her fretting over how to get her daughter to safety.
“Would’ve been a lot worse if not for your kid.” I stroked the back of my fingers over the bean’s cheek. Jill spared me a questioning look. “Seems she has a few tricks up her sleeve,” I said. “She’s special—the best of you and her daddy.” That didn’t explain a damn thing, but thankfully she was distracted by her baby and still dazed enough that she didn’t feel her usual urge to press for more answers. I knew I needed to get up and make sure the valve was safe and start helping with re
scue and recovery, but I wanted to drink in another few seconds of the amazing creature in Jill’s arms.
“She is pretty special, isn’t she?” Jill glowed with adoration and pride, bent her head to nuzzle her daughter. “Look at her. She’s awesome.”
“She’s beautiful,” I agreed with a smile. If Jill had indeed seen the winged thing on my back earlier she wasn’t letting herself think it might have been her newborn. I stroked the tiny fingers, hardly able to believe they’d been claws only a few minutes earlier.
A change in air pressure hit me an instant before a palpable and familiar aura washed over me. Jill jerked in shock even as I whirled to see Zack and Szerain standing a few feet away. Eyes wary and stance tense, Szerain remained in the guise of Ryan and wielded his essence blade in front of him like a shield. Zack swayed and caught himself on Szerain’s shoulder. I wanted to be relieved and elated at their arrival, but a base instinct kept my guard up.
“Oh my god, Zack!” Jill cried out then gave him a watery smile and pulled the silk back from the bean’s face. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she? Oh god, I can’t believe you’re here.”
Zack closed on Jill, his movements deliberate as if he required the utmost concentration simply to keep his cells from flying apart. He crouched, unsmiling. A warning sounded in the back of my head.
“I’ve come for Ashava,” Zack said as he reached for the baby.
Jill drew back and clutched her daughter closer to her chest. “Ashava?” she echoed with the tiniest shiver in her voice. “Don’t I get a say in naming her?” It was more than the name that had her on guard. I’d always known Jill to have good instincts, and it was clear she felt a weird vibe. I settled my weight, poised to intervene if needed, for however much good that would do. Szerain darted his eyes around as if expecting the bogeyman to leap out at any instant. His breath hissed in and out, short and sharp, and the hand that held the blade Vsuhl trembled.
“What’s going on, Zack?” I demanded.
Zack shuddered. “Give her to me now,” he gritted out, hands still extended, though he didn’t try to forcibly take her—yet.
“No!” Aghast, Jill turned her body to shield the bean from him. “You’re not taking my baby from me!”
“Zakaar!” Alarm threaded Szerain’s voice, and sweat beaded his face. “Xharbek is near!”
Xharbek, Szerain’s long lost ptarl—who had commandeered my nexus to hunt Szerain and create the dream link to Rhyzkahl. I shoved myself between Jill and Zack then let out a hiss of pain as the twelfth sigil flared with searing heat across my lower back. In the same instant, a naked baby appeared in Zack’s arms.
Jill let out an anguished scream, stared in horror at the empty cloth in her arms and then at Zack with her baby. “No! Give her back!”
She teleported to daddy, I realized in shock and dismay. Ashava shifted in a heartbeat to the pearlescent dragon-demon form and clung to Zack’s neck. Szerain gripped Zack’s arm and dragged him to his feet. Jill scrambled up with my help, though I had a sick feeling we’d already lost this battle.
“Give me back my baby!” she screamed, agonized as Zack stepped back. She didn’t care about wings or claws or luminous eyes. That was her daughter. “Zack, no, please. Don’t take her away!”
Szerain caught Zack’s arm and moved in close. Zack met Jill’s eyes. “I’m sorry,” he murmured.
“Take me with you!” She reached out, pleading.
And then Zack and Szerain and Ashava vanished.
Jill let out a terrible cry of rage and grief. “You asshole!” she shrieked into the empty air then collapsed against me, shaking. I wrapped her in a hug while I fought to make sense of it all.
I’d barely closed my arms around her when Carl materialized where Zack had stood seconds earlier. Carl. I gaped in shock as Szerain’s words jangled through my head. Xharbek is near.
Before I had a chance to react, he seized Jill by the upper arms and pulled her from my grasp. “Where did they take her?” he asked, inches from her face, each word clear, precise and powerful.
“I don’t know!” She tried to squirm from his grasp with zero success.
“Hey, get off her!” I shoved at him but I might as well have tried to budge a mountain. “Don’t you dare hurt her!” Carl is Xharbek! There was nothing laid back and calm about him now.
“Let me go!” Jill’s voice shook. She didn’t know all the details about Xharbek, but she’d grasped that this was not good ol’ Carl, even beyond the whole teleporting trick. Carl’s gaze flicked to me for an instant, reading everything from Jill and me and probably everyone else in the vicinity.
He released Jill and disappeared.
I grabbed her as she staggered. “Oh, shit,” I breathed, gulping. “Oh, shit shit shit shit.” Carl is Xharbek. He’d been a part of our lives. Hidden. A lie. Like Zack was before I discovered he was Zakaar. Nobody is truly who they appear to be.
And Xharbek wanted Jill’s baby. That had to be why Zack and Szerain took her away. To protect Ashava? Or was Xharbek the good guy in this scenario? My gut told me no, but that didn’t mean a damn thing. Nothing was black or white anymore.
Jill breathed raggedly, eyes wide, swallowed and went quiet. Then my dear friend—the one who was strong and fierce and rolled with the punches like no one’s business, who was teleported from her home, gave bizarre birth to a demon-baby, survived a major disaster, had her baby stolen by the baby daddy, and then was shaken like a ragdoll by the mild-mannered morgue tech—leaned on my shoulder and burst into tears.
I hugged her close and let her sob, even as I tried to think of a place I could stash her where she’d be safe. Everything was a godawful mess, but I couldn’t just leave her, not in her condition.
Idris stumbled up from the valve. “Kara! We have a problem.”
Seriously? How much more could go wrong?
“Kara!”
Not Idris. I turned to see Bryce clambering over a pile of rubble, face set in utter determination. Dirty, sweaty, and with a long scrape down one arm, to me he looked like an angel sent from above.
He jumped down and moved straight to us, shoulders set with purpose as he took in the sight of a no-longer-pregnant Jill sobbing on my shoulder. Without a word he gently took her from me and lifted her in his arms. Jill buried her head against his neck, let out a shuddering sigh and went quiet. His eyes met mine. “I got this.”
I gave him a look of pure gratitude. I could trust him to protect her and give her the care she needed. I jogged over to Idris. “What is it?” I asked him.
Worry creased his brow. He raked a hand over his hair. “The other ten charges—the ones that didn’t go off—are still a threat.”
My stomach dropped a few miles. “Explain?” I managed.
“The, um, bean’s strands deactivated all of the charges but the one that blew. The one I fucked up,” he said, words hurried. “It’s like she clipped the wires on a bomb for ten of them, but the bombs themselves are still intact.” Stark dread filled his eyes. “Kara, it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen. More charges mean more intensity, not just a wider area. If they all go off, there’ll be nothing left but dust.”
A surreal calm settled over me. “First off, you didn’t fuck up. It was pure shit luck that a tremor hit at the wrong time. Second off, you’re going to dismantle those remaining ten to where they can’t possibly blow, right?”
“Yeah.” He nodded, firm and sure. “But it’s going to take some time.” He surveyed the area, paled at the amount of destruction. I saw it in his eyes as he envisioned it reduced to dust. “We need to evacuate, a couple of miles radius at least, and—”
“Idris.” I stopped him, spoke quietly but firmly. “All rescue operations would have to stop. There is no perfect answer here. Either way we risk lives.”
He drew a breath and blew it out. “Got it.” He met my eyes steadily. He didn’t need a Kara-brand pep talk this time at least.
“Yes, you do,” I said. “Do I need to watch for zhurn again?” br />
He grimaced. “Anything that could reactivate the charges.”
I caught his arm as he turned away. “Zack and Szerain kidnapped the bean—Ashava. Carl is Xharbek. He teleported in, pissed, looking for Szerain and Ashava.”
Idris took it in then settled into his super serious summoner demeanor. “We’ll deal with it. Later.” With that, he ran back to the valve, dropped to his knees, and he and Pellini began their waggly hand dance.
First order of business, Get Dangerous. I dashed to Pellini’s truck. Bryce sat in the back with all the windows rolled down, his left arm draped protectively over Jill who sat curled up against him, her eyes closed. His free hand held the Sig P227 on his lap. I didn’t see his Glock but I was certain it was within easy reach. A long, hard-plastic box lay open on the floorboard. Pellini’s arsenal.
“She had the baby,” I said, “and—”
“She told me everything,” he said quietly then resumed scanning for potential danger, as vigilant and ready for action as a robot sentry. My throat tightened with gratitude for his presence. He’d have a better tactical position outside the truck, but tactics were only one consideration for him at the moment. He sat with Jill because it was what she needed. He intended to protect her—in every way—and I had absolute faith in his ability to balance it all.
I reloaded my empty magazines and grabbed all the extras Pellini had—grimly pleased to find a half dozen high capacity Glock 9mm magazines loaded and ready to go. I tucked three into each side pocket of my pants, then took Pellini’s Glock 19 and clipped the holster into place at the small of my back. Probably didn’t need anything more.
“Take the shotgun,” Bryce murmured, scanning. “And zipties.”
I didn’t argue. He outstripped me in Being Dangerous by about a zillion percent which meant I followed his advice. The shotgun had a strap that held a dozen shells. I slung it across my back and divided another half dozen shells between my two side pockets. I grabbed a bundle of zipties and shoved them into a front pocket. They made an uncomfortable bulge, but it felt good to have them. No two ways about it—Pellini was forever on my zombie apocalypse team.