“But they're gone,” I whispered back.
“No, they aren't,” he responded in that same gentlewhisper.
My back became electrified with nerves. Ishifted my head back, reluctantly plucking it from his chest as Itried to peer through the darkness.
I searched the shadow – every shadow – fora signof attack.
Once upon a time, I would have labeled ChiMcLane as a brave woman. After all, I had zero problem with confrontation, and I was a pretty independentperson.
Clearly, I'd simply never been tested.
Because suddenly I heard it. Or maybe I feltit. Or maybe some far off part of my mind told me it had to bethere.
Point was, I became convinced that there was something rightbehind the van to our left.
Max had taken us down a winding side street. It was lined withold, dilapidated three-story brick buildings and broken, long,metal warehouses.
The gutters gushed with rain, trailingStyrofoam cups, wrappers, and cardboard burger cases into the stormdrains.
Not once did Max skid in those distinctive camel-colored leatherboots. He had thebalance of a gymnast.
So why had he fallen on me in thebathroom? Some part of me suddenly wondered. A part that shouldreally be paying more attention to the fact we were in a race forour lives.
I felt it again. Those sparks. They didn’tquite explode over my vision like I was getting accustomed to. Theydidn’t squirm in front of my eyes like dying fireflies. Instead, I caught the barest hint of them. Itwas almost like a visual echo.
My eyes tracked them until I lockedon somethingbeside one of the trulyrun-down factories.
There was a small gap between the side ofthe factory and a broken four-story brick building beside it. Therewas an old, overflowing dumpster, and behind it….
I jolted, twisting hard into Max,practically climbing him as I tried to get away from the creaturein the dark.
“Chi.” He struggled to pull me off.
“There’s something behind thedumpster!” Iroared.
He came to a screeching stop, his bootsdislodging a line of water that splashed across the van to ourside.
I felt every single one of Max’s musclesharden, which was saying something. His shoulders suddenly felt asif they’d been carved from marble, his back and arm and biceps andchin nothing more than cast steel.
If you’d asked me a few days ago, I wouldhave told you that I would have a level head in a criticalsituation. Okay, as I’d previously mentioned – I wasn’t good withcertain things like violent crime, flying planes, or tellingcomplete strangers that my grandma was dead.
Still, I’d been around the block, as itwere, and theoretically, Icould keep my nerve.
Not today. God, not today.
I was climbing Max like he was some kindof tree as if I was a scared cat trying to get away from adog.
He pulled me back but didn’t let go of me as he stiffly angled his headtowards the dumpster.
I saw something shift in the deep, dark shadows behind it.
My breath caught in my throat, and I felt myheart grind to a standstill.
Again, I caught a glimpse of those magicalpricks of light flitting through my vision.
Though my brain told me to stare at thatdumpster, the pricks of light played to my left until I jerked myhead to the side, following them.
That’s when I saw a long shadow flittingbehind the van to our side.
Acting on complete, pure instinct, Ishoved into Max. “Move!” I screamed at the top of mylungs.
Though the rain still pounded down fromabove, I knew how to scream, and boy did my shrill voice split theair like a blast from a horn.
Max didn’t need to be told (or screamed at) twice. He shiftedto the side revealing his true magical reflexes as he moved withall the speed and grace of a cheetah.
It was just in time.
Something sailed down from the top of thevan. It sliced into the pavement, literally splitting it in half.The most godawful sound filled the air as something screamed rightbehind Max.
He jolted forward, pushing into aroll. Problemwas, I was still in hisarms. And yet, don’t ask me how, but the Scottish fairy managed it.It happened so quickly that I didn’t have a second to appreciatethe feel of his body crumpling aroundme, only the sound of battle behind.
Another one of those ear-splitting screamssplit the air, sounding like some dinosaur from some film.
A certain smell filled the air, too – a hotone.
Though the rain still drove down from above,drenching the streets, that didn’t matter.
I started to feel heat buffet out fromsomething behind Max.
It played along my arms and cheeks, sinking easily through the once coldrain to my exposed flesh beneath.
“Shit,” Max bellowed as he threw himself away from the van and thatstrange heat.
He seemed to hesitate for half a secondbefore he threw himself at the warehouse before us.
It wasn’t just run down – even fromthe outside,I could tell it was likely tofall down any second now.
Along the top of the tall, long buildingwere a row of windows. Or at least a row where windows had once been. Now there was nothing more thanshards of broken glass, random scraps of fabric and plasticskewered on them and flapping in the storm.
The building itself was made from someamalgam of steel sheets and wood. It looked cheap, and it obviouslyhadn’t stood the test of time as the sheets that constituted thewalls were all bent and warped, thin, yellowed, torn insulationpuffing out from the gaps.
There was a barricaded door, two large,heavy wooden beams slung across the front, held in place with aseriously mean looking chain and lock.
Max didn’t hesitate. He didn’t have time, after all. That heatwas now ten times worse. It felt like we’d walked out of the stormand right into a sauna. No, scratch that – a volcano.
I grit my teeth, trying to fight againstthe pain. Max just moved.
As soon as we reached the door, hewhispered something under his breath. His body lit up with light.Power charged down his torso and into his shoulder.
He twisted on his foot, his boot squeakingas he plowed shoulder-first into the locked and barricadeddoor.
I winced as I expected us to
