Three Days to Dead

to pulse with life of its own.

When the time comes, you will know how to use it.

A tiny flare of hope burned bright in the back of my mind, but I refused to acknowledge it. It was too much to expect. I had lost everyone I loved. Wyatt was no different. So why did the crystal burn with life of its own?

I untied the blood-soaked bandanna from Wyatt’s arm and ripped a hole in the sleeve of the shirt. The wound was small, maybe the size of a dime. I poised the pointed tip of the crystal above the bullet hole. My stomach fluttered. I couldn’t dare to hope. I pushed the crystal in, down through torn flesh, until its length disappeared and blood oozed out to cover its presence completely. I kept my hand over it, uncertain what to do next.

“Please,” I said.

The skin beneath my hand warmed—from the crystal or my pressure, I didn’t know. The hard butt of the crystal softened until I no longer felt it. It seemed to melt into him. Hotter still, for only a moment, and then it cooled. I let go and brushed away the drying blood. The skin on his arm, once torn, was mended. I checked the other side—no exit wound.

My heart dared to hope, pounding hard, threatening to choke me, but Wyatt didn’t move. Didn’t open his eyes or suck in a ragged breath. Hope shattered into despair.

I put my right hand on his chest, threaded the fingers of my left above it, and depressed. One, two, three, four, five. “Come on, Wyatt.” One, two, three, four, five. “Come on, damnit.”

Again, nothing. I pounded with a closed fist. Fury and tears blinded me, choked me. No reaction. The crystal had been too little, too late.

“Fuck!”

I collapsed against his chest, too exhausted to sob. No more energy for grief. I couldn’t make his heart beat. I couldn’t force him to breathe. I couldn’t do anything, except finish the task we’d started together. Tovin had lost his vessel for the Tainted, but I had no illusions that he’d just roll over and give up. Creatures that cunning always had a failsafe.

Force his hand. You can win.

“I hope so.” I touched Wyatt’s lips with the tip of my finger, positive the warmth I felt was a figment of hope. “If I don’t, I’ll see you soon.”

I stood up, tapped into the Break with little effort, and thought about the line of Jeeps. Colors swirled. The world dissolved into a pale ache that lasted only until movement ceased, and I found myself face-to-face with a very stunned Kismet.

“Where the hell did you come from?” she asked. “Where’s Wyatt?”

“Dead,” I said, surprised at the even tone of my voice. “What’s our situation here?” She frowned, but I didn’t care how she interpreted my question. I had to finish this before I let myself fall to pieces.

“No movement inside the Center,” she said. “The Halfies aren’t attacking, but the Bloods are getting itchy, and we still can’t get past that barrier.”

“What about the thing they used the first time?”

“They only had the one, and getting another takes both time and money.”

“What if I can get us through? Well, me and maybe two others.”

“How?”

“A little trick I picked up along the way, but I don’t think I can carry more than two. Hell, I might not even get us across the barrier, so I’d pick two volunteers who don’t mind the distinct possibility of being smashed into putty when we try and spectacularly fail.”

“I’m in,” Tybalt said. He fell in next to Kismet, his mouth set in a grim line. “How about you, boss?”

She gave him a sideways look. Nodded. She pulled her walkie-talkie. “Baylor, come in.”

It crackled briefly. A male voice said, “Go ahead, Kis.”

“You’re point on ops outside. We may have a way in. I’m going in with Tybalt and Stone.”

“Acknowledged.”

She slipped the walkie-talkie back into her belt without a reply, checked the clip on her gun, then turned to me. “Ready when you are.”

“Do either of you know the layout of the Center?” I asked.

Tybalt nodded. “I came here a few times as a kid. The first floor is an open lobby, with a lounge and information booth. I think the second floor is offices and a couple of activity rooms. I never went up on the third, but the basement should be all storage.”

“And Tovin’s likely location. Underground gets him as close to the Break as possible. So I’ll aim for the lobby. It’s an open area. We’re less likely to land inside a desk or a wall.”

Kismet blanched.

I held out one hand to each of them and clasped theirs tightly. They reached to each other, completing the circle without being asked. I fed the thrum of energy through me and into them. Tybalt’s hand jerked; I held tight. “This might feel weird,” I said.

The world melted. The pain was immediate, because of the added weight and distance traveled. It furrowed between my eyes like a red-hot spike. We floated until the world turned blue. Power crackled around us. Agony exploded in my head. I screamed, pushed through it, and came out the other side, intent on the lobby.

As soon as I felt hardwood form beneath my feet, I let them go and fell to my hands and knees. Something warm and wet stained my upper lip. Drops of red hit the floor between my hands. The horrific pain faded, but the migraine-esque symptoms remained. My stomach tried to turn itself inside out. A hand touched the small of my back. I focused on the contact, used it to push the pain away and focus on standing.

“How did you do that?” Kismet asked.

“I’m Gifted now,” I said. “The girl whose body this was, she was an unfound tap. This is her—it’s my power. It’s never been this strong before, but Chalice and I … we’re truly one person now. Everything that was individually ours is mine.”

“So your emptying hourglass?”

“Busted.”

“Great. Now that you’ve solved that quandary for us, I—”

A low growl cut her off. I paid attention to our surroundings for the first time, cursing myself for not doing it sooner. The lobby was the length and width of the building itself. Freestanding walls had long since fallen over. The wood floor was warped in places, and scored in others. The main desk that dominated the very center of the lobby was covered with writing that, upon first glance, appeared to be graffiti. A better look revealed an actual language—albeit, one I couldn’t read.

And I didn’t have time to try, because the desk wasn’t the source of the growl. From the shadows of the rear corner of the lobby came a hulking shape—one that had become very familiar over the last three days. The snarling hound hybrid shambled into the light, saliva dripping from its bared fangs. It stopped, balanced on two legs, then drew up to its impressive height.

My fingers clenched around the hilt of the knife. I’d killed two of them. I could use one more notch on my belt.

“What rounds do you have in?” Kismet asked, her voice a hushed whisper.

“Anticoags,” Tybalt replied. “You?”

“Same.”

“Mine are frags,” I said. “Mix them up. It’ll kill that thing faster.”

Kismet reached behind me with precise movements, doing nothing to startle the hound into attacking faster. It was still fifteen feet away, approaching like it was on a Sunday stroll. She pulled my gun and tucked her own into its place.

“Get downstairs. We’ve got him,” she said.

“Destroy the desk, too. It could be the barrier spell,” I replied.

“Got it. Now go.” She stepped to the left. “Hey, ugly!”

I turned and ran as gunfire erupted behind me. Fast, toward the door marked EXIT. I crashed through the fire door and descended the dank, cement steps two at a time. The weapons play faded into the distance. I hit the basement level and was presented with two doors, made of the same heavy metal as the door upstairs, but these felt different—ominous and dark, the keepers of terrible secrets. The thrum of energy was strong. It crackled all around me. Whatever Tovin was doing, he’d already tapped into something.