Page 80 of Death Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

She clapped slowly.

“Honestly,” Dagna said, voice carrying through the seam, “you people are exhausting. I throw a little chaos into the city and you all come running like it’s a holiday sale.”

Faith stepped forward, rage written in every line of her body. “Where is the relic?”

Dagna’s smile widened. “Straight to business as usual. I am almost disappointed.”

Eve’s eyes flashed. “Don’t pretend you’re here for fun.”

Dagna tilted her head. “Fun. Profit. Revenge. It’s a rich tapestry.”

My stomach clenched as the bond tugged, and the egg’s pressure flared through my ribs.

Dagna’s gaze slid to me.

Her eyes narrowed, as if she’d found the thread she wanted.

“Well,” she purred, “there you are. That explains the sudden patch job on the egg.”

Cal moved closer to my side so fast I nearly stumbled. His voice went low. “Stay away from her.”

Dagna laughed softly. “Protective. How sweet. Tell me, Salima, does it feel strange, being tied into something about to die?”

My skin went cold.

Not because she was right.

Because she knew.

And behind us, Greyson’s device began to whine, the runes flickering as the shield started to adapt.

Tegan’s voice rose. “Greyson, how long?”

“Ten seconds,” he snapped.

Faith lifted her weapon, eyes locked on Dagna through the seam. “Answer the question.”

Dagna’s smile did not falter. “Find me,” she said lightly. “If you can.”

Then she stepped back into the darkness, and the seam snapped shut as the shield slid into place like a curtain falling.

Greyson swore, hand slapping the device. “And that is what thirty seconds looks like.”

Faith stared at the spot where Dagna had been, fury vibrating off her. “She’s close.”

Tegan’s tracker needle trembled in her palm, then spun once, as if embarrassed.

Eve’s face went hard. “She wants us chasing her.”

Cal’s hand brushed my elbow, steadying me as the bond tugged again, draining and relentless. “And she wants the egg to fail while we do it.”

I swallowed, feeling the absurd weight of it all pressing on my lungs.

Zombie outbreaks to keep us running. A shield to hide the relic. A calling strong enough to petrify an unborn gargoyle.

And Dagna close enough to look me in the eye and taunt me about a bond I could not break.

I looked at the hospital entrance, then at the dark patch where the shield hid whatever she was doing.