“Someone tell me that was their stomach,” whispered Eric.
A second snarl joined the first. From out of the hall’s yawning abyss emerged Molly and Judd, ears flat and fangs bared, slaver hanging from their jowls. Eyes glinting red in the glow, they looked like veritable hellhounds. Between them stood Vivienne, her hair black with blood, her features as sleek and shining as a siren’s.
“Don’t run away,” she said. “It isn’t nice.”
“Go,” barked Colton. “Now.”
They didn’t need to be told. They broke into a run, skidding around a labyrinthine corner and down a shallow set of stairs. With vicious howls, the dogs gave chase.
Delaney reached the exit first, skidding to a stop atop battered combat boots and wrenching the door wide. They piled through one after the other, Thomas taking up the rear. He’d nearly made it when the boy in front of him stuck out his foot. Instinctively, Thomas grabbed hold of him. They both went toppling to the floor, the impact hard enough to send a white sear of pain across his vision. The door swung shut just as the girl screamed out, “Alex, get up!”
“Get off me,” bellowed the boy, shoving at him.
“Are you trying to get us killed?” Thomas scrabbled back to his feet, nearly dodging a sloppy uppercut in the process. He slammed the boy hard into the wall, jamming an elbow into his windpipe. “What the hell is your problem?”
“That’s for nearly breaking my jaw, asshole.”
“Yourwhat?” Understanding hit him like a sucker punch. The pool house. His masked assailants. His hesitation lasted just long enough for the boy to shove him off. They wrestled for the door as Molly and Judd came careening around the corner, talons scrabbling.
Molly reached them first. Her jaw snapped around the boy’s ankle like a bear trap. He toppled hard to the ground, his hands thrown out to break his fall. In front of Thomas, the door swung wide to reveal Eric.
“Help me,” begged the boy as Eric yelled, “Walsh,move!”
Thomas hovered in the open door for a fraction of a second before making his decision. He lunged for the boy, hand outstretched. It was too little, too late. Judd—timid, goofy Judd—detached from the darkness like a living shadow. Eyes red. Lips peeled back. With a scream, the boy was dragged out of the pulsing crimson glow and into the dark.
The door to the stairwell swung shut with a slam.
“Any chance we can speed this up?” called Colton, peering over the second-story landing. Tucked under Delaney’s arm, the girl was openly weeping. They ascended the rest of the way in silence, emerging into the mouth of the sanctuary. The air here hung in a hush. The smell of iron clung to everything.
They arrived at the front doors to find them barricaded. The rusted hinges sat off track so that a thin bar of daylight seeped through the gap. Between this stood a boy covered in a series of shallow gouges. He wove a thick set of chains through the handles, his jaw set.
“What is this?” demanded Eric. “Let us out.”
“Can’t do that.” The boy tugged at the chains, testing their strength. “The chairman isn’t happy with you. He didn’t want her harmed.”
“Hey.” Thomas reached through the gap and grabbed a fistful of the boy’s collar. “Look at me. What’s your name?”
“Adrian,” said the boy. His eyes were slightly out of focus. “Adrian Faber.”
“Listen to me, Adrian, there are innocent people in here. Do you understand what I’m telling you? I need you to undo these chains and let them out.”
“To-ommy.”
Thomas’s name singsonged through the dark, its echo dissipating through the shadowed transept like smoke. With a cry, the girl clapped her hands over her ears. Behind them, the nave was the color of blood, sunlight seeping through the upturned faces of the saints.
“Where are you, To-ommy?”
“Open the fucking door,” ordered Colton.
“Sorry,” said Adrian. “I would if I could. But there’s these worms in my head. They won’t stop squirming. The chairman promised he’d make them go away, I just have to teach you a lesson first.”
The door slammed shut. The last gap of sunlight extinguished.
“Was that you, Tommy?”
Thomas ducked into an alcove filled with unlit prayer candles, his heart hammering. The others followed his lead. Next to Delaney, the girl’s nose had begun to bleed. She let it trickle freely, keeping her hands pressed tight over her ears. Silence fell, save for the harsh saw of his own breathing. He edged carefully toward the center aisle, peering around the corner of a wide stone pilaster.
The drum lights had been knocked on their sides, bulbs shattered against the modular walls of the clean room. Only one remained lit. It cast the aisle in a shaft of blazing white. As he looked, a shape stepped into it, ballerina lithe.
