“Not every jackaltooth is like Luvic,” I said. Then I added, “I’ve seen them conjured. Not all of them are . . .” I trailed off, thinking about the doorman at the Bard mansion. Had he been a human turning jackaltooth, just like Luvic?
Finn turned, and slowly, as if I were a wild animal that might startle, he took my hands. “This is the last time I’m coming to you,” he said. “Whatever happens tonight. It’s the last time. After this, you’ll be free.”
His hands were warm. They gently cupped mine.
“Free of you?”
“No.” His mouth twisted into a half-smile. “I was yours before we were born. That isn’t something we could ever be free of. If I didn’t love you like I do, then I’d love you another way. There’s a thousand ways to see a sunrise. There’s a thousand ways for me to be yours.”
I smiled and ran my pointer finger over the calluses on his hands. “Then free of Jagger,” I said, feeling the burn of the words on my tongue.
Finn untangled his hand from mine and reached out to push the strands of blowing hair back from my face. “You’ll have to trust me. Just like I’ll trust you.”
I was far enough from Jagger’s hold to shake my head, my throat tightening as I whispered, “Don’t.”
He stared at me, struck by something in my expression.
“Mari—”
He broke off when Luvic bounded over, skidding to a stop. He barred his teeth and growled at an approaching man. He was a Smith. It was obvious from his military-like clothing, his precise way of moving, and the hard planes of his body. He was running across the field at a fast clip. At first, I thought he was running toward us, but then I realized he was going to sprint past without stopping.
Finn stepped forward, cutting off Luvic, and called out to the man.
The man looked surprised. Then he veered toward us.
I was surprised too. Usually, in these dreams, there was only Finn, me, and the figments. No one had been aware of us except for the concierge in my last dream. But this Smith could see us too. He glanced at Finn, taking in his appearance, his size, and that undefinable aura other men instinctually recognized—it made them want to fight him or follow him.
The man snapped straight and saluted. “Sir. Are you here with the reserves?”
Finn tilted his head, scanning the man’s exhausted expression. He looked like he hadn’t shaved in days and hadn’t slept for even longer. If he’d had enough energy for it, there might’ve been hope, but I think he was too tired for even that.
Finn looked over at me, and I gave a slight nod. “Yes,” he said decisively. “We are.”
“Sir.” The man looked around, baffled. “The city’s falling. We’re overrun. Where are the rest of them?”
Finn grinned. “We are the rest of them.”
The man brought us to a single-story concrete building squatting under the trees at the edge of the park. Men and women, who looked even more exhausted than the man we were following, raced in and out of the front door. The bunker was like a hive that had been swatted with a baseball bat, and now all the bees were buzzing in a frenzy around it.
Some of the people did a double take when they saw Finn, me, and our growling jackaltooth, but most of them ignored us, hurrying away on some undefined mission.
On our previous rides on the ghost train, Finn and I had stayed in the present with figments from the past. But none of this was in the present or the past. It was some strange alternate reality or terrible future. The thunderous rumblings were louder, more frequent. Some shook the ground. The red-sky taint was bloodiest to the south. Over Manhattan.
As we hurried into the concrete-bunker-like building, the acrid, bitumen air cleared, giving way to a cool, damp, cave-like scent. The activity around the entry trickled away, until we were the only ones walking through the hallways.
At a metal door, the man knocked twice with his knuckles and murmured, “He’s in there.”
The man hurried off so quickly I wondered if I’d imagined his exhaustion.
At a muffled call to enter, Finn reached over and gave my hand a quick squeeze. He let go before I could look at him. All I could do was follow as he pushed open the door and strolled inside.
Finn jerked to a halt, and I ran into his firm back, thudding to a stop.
He made a stunned noise, and Luvic crouched next to him, his tail swishing like a knife sharpening on a whetstone.
I shook my head, steadying myself, then stepped around Finn.
I stumbled when I saw the man sitting in the corner. Finn’s hand darted out, steadying me.
