“Dig,” he orders, pointing at the sliver of hollowed-out tree trunk that he’s uncovered. “Clear the base of this spot so we can drop in. Hurry.”
No one argues.
We’re running out of time, and we all know it.
I dig like my life depends on it, losing sensation in my fingers almost immediately. I’m vaguely worried that they won’t ever bend right again, but the strange numbness is a welcome relief from the burning pain.
The horseshoe-shaped hollow in the trunk grows until I think I could fit through it with my wings tucked. It’s not a second too soon. My teeth are chattering. Darkness is falling, and I can barely see my hands anymore.
“Get in,” Luca whispers.
Nodding shakily, I throw my backpack in first, then shove my legs into the hole. They dangle, but there’s no time to figure out if I can climb down or not.
The next bellow is practically on top of us.
I squeeze my shoulders through the hole and drop. I hit the spongy ground before I can even order my muscles to unclench and absorb the impact properly. Stumbling to my knees, a strangledoofslips past my lips.
“Celine!” Alistair’s frantic hiss reaches me, and I clear my throat.
“I’m fine, come on.” I crawl backward, feeling for the edges ofthe hollowed-out tree and raising my eyebrows when I find nothing but stale air.
The rest of the backpacks come through next. I grab them one at a time and pile them to the side. Ciprian drops in, followed quickly by Alistair and Malach. I can only make out the vaguest outlines of their faces.
I hold my breath as I wait for Luca to join us. Anxiety rakes its claws down my chest from the inside, searching for a way out.What’s taking him so long?
“Brace me,” Luca grunts.
Malach catches the bottom of his shoes and guides them to his shoulders.
The dying light trickling in from the opening in the tree slowly disappears as Luca packs ice around the hole. I want to beg him to stop. It’s too dark, and he’s making noise. But this is smart. We need to be hidden.
Ciprian’s hands land on my waist. He wraps his arms around me, his cold lips drifting to my ear. “Between us, we could kill whoever’s out there in a hundred different ways.”
Smiling in the dark, I cuddle against him. It’s warmer down here than it is out there, but it’s no sauna. “I hear you’re good at snapping necks.”
“Yeah,” he whispers. “It’s all about the pressure, hot wings.” His thumbs dig into the dips of my hips playfully. It reminds me of how it felt when he explored every inch of my body after I surprised him at the compound.
“I’m sorry I got you into this,” I say quietly. “All of you.”
Alistair bumps us without warning and knocks us both off balance. Locked together, we stumble in a controlled fall until Ciprian hits the edge of the homemade bunker with a pained wheeze.
“I don’t want to hear your apologies, angel,” Alistair hisses.
“But I want to hear yours,” Ciprian grunts. “You just knocked me into gods know what, asshole. Get a grip.”
“Celine has no reason to apologize,” Ali insists.
“Duh.” Ciprian pulls me close again. “But that makes one of you. You can’t go around bowling people over. It’s dark as fuck, and we have no idea what’s in here with us.”
“Shh.” Malach’s whispered warning is clipped. He lowers Luca to the ground as it begins to shake. It’s ten times worse than before and spaced evenly.Footsteps.
“Ciprian—” Luca says.
“On it. Keep quiet.”
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
Alistair drops his forehead to mine. I slide one hand up to cover my own mouth and grip Ciprian’s thigh with the other. We’re being hunted. There’s no denying it. Someone is searching the pet store enclosure for us—the trapped mice.
