“You crazy bitch.” He took another step back. “Stay away from me.”
She continued moving toward him, trying to calibrate her aim.
Hank gave up. He whirled and dashed toward the entrance of the alley. For a few seconds he was a running shadow in the fog, and then he disappeared. Alice heard his boots thud briefly on the sidewalk, and then the sound faded to nothing.
Sebastian chortled again.
“Your aim is improving,” Owen said from the doorway. “But no more target practice tonight. You have to run. Now.”
There was something wrong. His words were slurred, his voice weak, as if it took enormous effort to speak. She whirled toward him in time to see him sink slowly to his knees.
“Owen.”
She dropped the flamer into a pocket and rushed to the doorway. Sebastian, realizing that things were not going well, stopped chortling and began making small anxious noises.
Alice glanced at the motionless figure of the man Hank had identifiedas Sykes and then crouched beside Owen. She touched his shoulder. He was too warm. Now that she had physical contact, she could tell that his aura was calming—too much so. That was not right. He wasn’t dying, she decided, relieved. He was sinking into a profound sleep.
“What’s wrong?” she demanded, horrified. “Did he shoot you?”
“No.”
Owen’s eyes were half-closed. He moved one hand to indicate a small object on the ground next to Sykes.
She looked at the empty syringe. “Oh, shit.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
TheOh, shitdid notbode well, Owen decided. In his admittedly limited experience, she did not resort to raw language unless, in her view, the situation was dire.
In this case, she was right. He could barely think now. The heavy undertow of sleep was pulling him down into the depths. He struggled to focus on the one thing he had to do before he lost consciousness.
“Get out of here,” he rasped. “Take the sled. Hotel coordinates are in the locator.”
“I’m not leaving you,” Alice said.
“Don’t argue. Not now. Go.”
“I think I can get you on your feet for a while, long enough to make it down to the sled. But you’ll have to trust me.”
“How—?” He couldn’t finish the question. He was too far away.
“The sedative affects your dreamstate energy. So does my talent.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I’ll explain later.”
He was vaguely aware of her taking his hand as if to lead him somewhere. He liked the feel of her fingers threaded through his. She was inviting him to go with her. He wanted to do that, needed to do it. But his body was too heavy.
A lightning-sharp pulse of energy flashed across his senses. It acted like a powerful stimulant, driving him to his feet. He heard an enthusiastic chortle and then Sebastian landed on his shoulder. The dust bunny’s small, sturdy aura seemed to enhance the effect.
“What in green hell?” It dawned on him that he was no longer slurring his words.
“Not now.” Alice tugged him toward the shadowed doorway. “We have to get into the Underworld. I don’t know how long I can keep this up. I’ve never done this before. It’s…difficult. Pretty sure that eventually we’re both going to crash. Hard.”
He wanted to ask more questions, but she was right. This wasn’t the time.
Priorities, March.
