“Move!” Angel barked.
We all bolted, the trio in front of me, Angel half a step behind.
Our footfalls echoed like drumbeats, pounding in beat with my racing heart. We took the stairs two at a time, the creature’s roar shaking the entire structure. The little girl’s sneaker squeaked on a step ahead of us, her mother dragging her upward by one arm.
The next two levels flickered with hazy lights and hung with smoky shadows that made me push the group to keep moving. How many floors had we gone down the first time? I couldn’t remember anymore, as they all looked the same. The third, absent any of that strange magical smoke, made me pause. The Level 3 door stood slightly ajar, daylight bleeding through the crack. Normal, beautiful, boring daylight.
“Wait,” I called. The trio stopped. “This level is free of magic,” I told Angel, wincing at his burned hand and how hecradled it in his uninjured one. “Maybe we can get out here?” I tiptoed to the fire door, but Angel slipped in front of me, gazing through the crack in the door.
“I think I see regular daylight,” Angel said. He opened the door, careful to ease it gently to mute any noise, and peered out.
My heart hammered with fear the entire time he stood there.
“Looks clear,” Angel said after what felt like an hour but was probably only a few seconds. He quietly opened the door, even as the entire stairwell shook from the rage of the monster below. “Let’s see if we can get a signal and reach someone for an extraction.” His gaze fell on me and darted away. “You take the rear. Close the door behind you. I’ll take the front.” He looked at the family. “Keep close and quiet. We’ll get you out.”
“Thank you,” the woman whispered.
Angel led the way, carefully picking his path across the parking garage, weaving around pillars and cars, pausing every few yards to listen for further movement. It wasn’t until we had crossed the eerie, fogged center ramps going up and down that my headset buzzed with static.
“Anyone read us?” I called quietly, hoping for a hit. Nothing.
“Might be too far from the team,” Angel whispered. “Switch channels and try again as we move toward the open end.”
I nodded, flipping through to listen for any chatter beyond the static as we hustled toward the opening, blue sky beyond feeling like nirvana.
Halfway across, my phone buzzed in my pocket.
A text, which meant I had a signal. I yanked my phone out and stared at a texted image of Peanut Butter from Ivan. We were back in the human realm and close enough for a signal.
Thank fuck.
21
The fire truck’sladder rattled against the parking garage’s outer ledge. The truck’s red lights painted the concrete in pulsing streaks. Below us, cars flew like torpedoes out of the narrow gap of the garage’s second floor, many crushed as if squashed in the giant fist of a toddler before being skipped along the pavement like a stone across a clear lake.
If not for a wall of ruined cars wedged along the side below us, we might still be stuck above.
“Move!” An EMT hauled the little girl from her mother’s arms as the garage trembled, threatening collapse. Another roar, overwhelming the sound of sirens and emergency vehicles, echoed, rattling me to the bone.
I didn’t breathe until our feet hit the street and everyone was ushered to waiting ambulances. Then I whirled on Angel, grabbing his wrist. His glove was fused to the burned rune, the skin beneath blistered black. Why wasn’t his healing kicking in? Did he need to change for that?
“Medic?” I called, trying to get someone’s attention. The EMTs fussed over the family, which was fine, but Angel needed them too.
Angel tried to yank free. “Jude…”
“You need a medic.” My voice cracked. Sure, the shield worked, but I’d used him. Hurt him. What the fuck was wrong with me?
Hardy headed our way, an unfamiliar woman in an SED medic uniform at his side.
“Please,” I asked her, “can you help? I didn’t mean to hurt him.”
“Shifters usually heal pretty fast without help,” Hardy said.
“I can take a look,” the medic offered.
“This is Agent Theone Xiang,” Hardy introduced her. “Healing is her specialty.”
Angel glared but let her carefully peel off the glove. She frowned over the burn. “Necrotic burn. We’ll need to take you to the hospital, remove the dead skin, and treat it. Even a shifter can’t heal a burn this deep without treatment.”
