“Zorah,” he gasped hoarsely, as Nigellus steadied him by the shoulder. His eyes glowed blue and frantic as he searched the darkness. “Where—”
I crawled across the short distance separating us on my hands and knees. Nigellus faded back at my approach.
“Rans,” I said in a broken voice, and flung myself into his arms. He clutched at me, and I clutched him back, my head buried against his shoulder.
“Oh, Zorah, love,” he breathed against my hair, the words hitching unevenly.
I burst into uncontrolled sobs, my fingers grasping desperate handfuls of his shirt. His arms tightened around me until it was nearly painful, one hand sliding up to bury itself in my escaped curls, holding me in place against him. He murmured soothing words—not anything stupid or untrue like it’s okay, or everything will be all right—just my name, over and over, and I’m here, I love you, I’m here now.
I had no idea how much time passed like that, before someone knelt beside us and rested a hand on my back. I opened my eyes, blinking through the rusty veil of a vampire’s bloody tears to find Guthrie there.
“We have to leave now,” he said quietly. “Let me help you two get to the van.”
The sirens were all around us now, and flashlight beams crisscrossed the woods. I wasn’t sure if my legs were answering calls from my brain after everything that had happened, but when Guthrie hefted me to my feet, they held. He slung one of Rans’ arms around his shoulders, and I clung to Rans’ other arm as though he might disappear if I wasn’t touching him.
Two police officers appeared from the cover of the woods as we were climbing into the van, their service weapons drawn and their flashlights pointing at us. One of the beams wavered crazily across my face, half-blinding me.
“Freeze!” one of them barked. “Let’s see those hands!”
Guthrie’s eyes flared. “We’re not here. Forget you saw us. You didn’t find anything out of the ordinary in this area.”
The weapons and flashlights sagged as the officers’ expressions went slack.
“Go away now,” Guthrie added. “Search the park east of here.”
The pair stumbled off in a daze.
Rans and I ended up in the van’s front passenger seat, with me curled awkwardly in his lap. I didn’t protest the position—for one thing, the vehicle was ridiculously crowded with the six of us, and for another, it allowed me to bury my face against his chest and avoid looking at the silent, sheet-wrapped shape in the back of the van.
Guthrie had to mesmerize three more sets of cops before we finally escaped the boundaries of Forest Park. Once on the main roads, he drove toward the abandoned factory near the river where the next steps in the plan would take place. Honestly, I didn’t give a flying fuck about the plan right now... even though I probably should have. All I could do was cling to Rans and try not to think about anything except his presence. He rubbed a hand slowly between my shoulder blades, even though he had no way of knowing even half of what was going on.
The others were talking. I was far enough gone, mentally speaking, that it wasn’t difficult to let the conversation float past without really hearing it. At one point, Rans tensed, his arms tightening. From that, I gathered that someone was filling him in on what had happened after Myrial stabbed him through the heart. When he went very, very still a few moments later, I could guess that the conversational topic had turned to his unexpected recovery from a fatal wound—but that didn’t mean I was remotely ready to face any of it yet.
Unfortunately, I didn’t have a lot of choice in the matter once the van pulled into the echoing brick and steel building that had once housed a shoe factory. Half the windows in the place were broken. Of those, fewer than a third had been properly boarded up. But... the place was private. It was somewhere no one would notice the flare of Fae portals opening and closing, with the possible exception of a crackhead or two who wouldn’t be believed anyway.
Guthrie parked the vehicle and turned the engine off. Silence echoed, both inside and outside. Not even the flutter of a bird’s wings or the chirp of insects lightened the oppressive atmosphere. I peeked out from my hiding place against Rans’ shoulder. My eyes caught on that ominous sheet-wrapped form in the back of the van, and I abruptly squeezed them closed again.
Albigard was the one to break the tense atmosphere. “I will begin transporting the remains to the more distant locations.” He levered himself up from the second-row passenger bench, bending his tall frame awkwardly to keep from bumping his head.
“Are you strong enough to do so?” That was Nigellus.
Reality started to force its way past my protective layer of shock, as the magnitude of everything that still needed to be done hit me. I opened my eyes again, keeping them firmly away from the contents of the cargo area.
“Travel by ley line requires little energy,” Albigard was saying. “A single portal leading from here to the nearest one will suffice. I can hold it open long enough for us to throw the bags through, and then take the pieces to their final destinations one at a time.”
Guthrie stirred in the driver’s seat. I caught him gazing at me with an expression of worry in his dark eyes before he quickly looked away, caught out. “I can go with you, and keep an eye on the bags while you’re off transporting them individually.”
Albigard gave a brusque nod. Guthrie opened his door and got out, the Fae following
