“Let me gofirst.”
I gave him a hard stare. “I don’t need you toprotectme.”
“I never said you did; I know you don’t. But you can count on me tohelpyou.”
“Isthatso?”
“Yes.”
The certainty with which he’d stated it left me speechless. He turned away before I could respond and stalked over to one of the windows. Cupping his hands against the sides of his face, he bent to peer inside but I knew he wouldn’t be able to see in. I stared at the chipped, white front door before turning to search theporch.
A terracotta plant holder sat beside a broken bench. Walking over, I lifted the pot of dry soil and gazed at the numbers on the wood beneath. Some numbers were carved into the wood; others had been writtenonit.
The last date, scrawled in black marker, revealed someone had been here three months ago. The earliest date was only five months after the gateway opened. This house had been used as a refuge often by Wilders over the years, but that was before the seals fell. There was no telling if it remainedsafenow.
I didn’t hear Corson move, but I felt his body against mine as he peered over my shoulder. “So it was safe here in August,” hestated.
Setting the pot down, I covered the numbers. If I wasn’t careful, he’d figure our language out. Unlike the lower-level demons, he was far from stupid, and it wasn’t exactly a complicated way ofcommunicating.
His citrine eyes were a honey brown hue when they met mine. I found myself gazing into them for longer than I should have. Turning my head away, I pushed past him to return to thefrontdoor.
I gripped the handle and gave it a small turn, but the wood, sagging on its rusting hinges, groaned and held firm. I leaned my shoulder against it and was about to shove it when something leapt through the shadows next to thehouse.
Jumping away from the door, I pulled my knife free, but whatever moved there slipped into the dark. Adrenaline pulsed through my system as I prepared toattack.
“That won’t work against them,” Corson said and gestured at myknife.
“What are they?” Iwhispered.
“Hell shadows. They must have also escaped Hell, and now they’re spreading out. They can’t hurt you, but unlike your shadows on Earth, they can move ontheirown.”
“Delightful,” I muttered. “Shifting shadows won’t make trying to locate an enemy more difficult for usatall.”
Corson’s mouth quirked at my sarcasm. Walking over to the front door, he grabbed the knob and pushed his shoulder into it. The door groaned as it swung open. He didn’t look back at me when he stepped into the house. A shadow slid forth to dance over the porch banister before retreating again. I returned my knife to its holster, threw the shadows a disgusted look, and entered thehouse.
ChapterTwenty-Two
Corson
The flickering candle flame played over Wren’s face as she used her fingers to scoop out the last of the food from the glass jar she held. Her eyes closed as she shoved the food into her mouth. It was clearly empty, but she dipped her fingers back into the jar and ran them over the cleaned glass. She stared morosely into it for a minute before setting itaside.
Walking over to the cabinet she’d retrieved it from, I removed another jar of food from the dozen or so stocked on the shelves. Wren was shaking her head at me before I could return to her withthejar.
“You’re still hungry,” Istated.
“Yes, but if we take from a safe house, then we have to leave something behind. I’ve already taken something without being able to replace it. I can’t take more. I have nothing of use, except for my knife, and I can’t leave my only working weapon behind right now. Leaving a gun without bullets is pointless and could get someone killed if they don’t check it first. But I guess if they don’t check it first, then they deservetodie.”
She didn’t know how demon of a thing that was for her to say, but I refrained from pointing it out to her. She was talking to me, and my balls still ached fromherkick.
“They do,” I agreed. I stared at her and then the jar in my hand. “It’s ridiculous for you not to eat when thereisfood.”
“We have to count on each other in the Wilds. If everyone took and didn’t give, there would be a lot lessWilders.”
I walked over and handed the jar to her when her stomach growled. I wouldn’t allow her to go hungry when there was food. “I’ll return here with something after we meet up with the others again. You need yourstrength.”
She hesitated before taking the jar of yellow stuff from my hands. She unscrewed the lid and dipped her fingers into it. I returned to the cabinets to close the door on the remaining jars and a handful of water bottles stacked neatly inside. The hinges creaked as the doorswungshut.
I’d entered a few other houses in the Wilds before, but unlike those long-abandoned homes, this one didn’t have leaves and dirt covering the scuffed, white flooring. Earlier, Wren and I had pumped water from the well out back and brought it in the house. The water was cold, but when Wren was done, I’d stood in the upstairs tub and used it to clean the ouro blood and mudfromme.
