He clutches the rail with both hands. His magic has been weak since Kelia died. Add to that the fact that he fissured from his world to mine half-dead, and it’s obvious how much of a struggle it is to open a path to the In-Between. He manages it, though, and after the strip of white light appears on the step below him, he falls into it.
I half expect to see him rolling down the stairs, but the In-Between catches him. My gaze goes to the parking lot just as the light spits him out, face-first, on the cement. He doesn’t move.
“Shit,” I mutter.
I take the steps two at a time, beeping my car unlocked as I run to Lorn.
“Are you alive?” I ask, putting my hand on his back.
“Mostly,” he says, and I relax some. That note of amusement in his voice was more like the old Lorn.
“At least you landed next to my car,” I tell him. I focus on Kyol’s emotions as I open the passenger door. I’m going to have to give in and get him to fissure here. He’s the only way I’m able to communicate with the Realm. He’ll want to question Lorn, and Lorn will need a healer.
But I shove Lorn into the passenger seat without letting loose my emotions. Kyol is filled with the cold, calculating emotions that tell me he’s still in the midst of a fight. Plus, I don’t want him to fissure here if the false-blood might show up.
I turn on the car’s engine, put my hand on the back of Lorn’s seat so I can back out. He’s slumped against the window, his eyes closed. I can’t tell if he’s breathing.
“Don’t you die in my car, Lorn,” I say.
A smile slips through his busted lip.
“Exactly how badly are you hurt?” I ask, backing out of the parking space.
“I would very much appreciate a healer.”
“I know. I’m working on it.” I brake, then shift into drive.
And a sword slams into the hood of my car. My brain registers the three slashes of white light a second later, but the other two fae have already swung their weapons.
A blade shatters my window, tearing through the back of my seat.
I hear a scream, think that it’s mine until I realize I’ve slammed the pedal against the floor. My tires are squealing, my car lurching forward quick enough to save our lives until I ram into a parked truck.
I just barely keep my face from slamming into the steering wheel. Lorn’s too out of it to brace for the minor crash. He hits the dash the same instant the fae outside my window stabs his blade forward.
Throwing myself over the central console, I manage to shift into reverse while hitting the gas pedal. The fae—the damned elari—loses his grip on his sword when the window frame catches his arm. The blade barely misses me as it flies into the backseat.
My neck pops when I slam into a vehicle behind us. Quickly, I shift gears again. One of the elari is standing three feet away in the beams from my headlights. I stare down the fae as he stares down me. It’s Nimael, the fae who slipped away from us in Tholm, and the elari who might be the false-blood’s second-in-command. A gut instinct tells me he’s responsible for the slaughter of the women in the tjandel, and most likely the Sighted humans in London as well.
I want him dead. I want it so badly I can taste blood on my tongue.
With my left foot on the brake, I press the gas pedal with my right, revving the engine. Pure theatrics. I know Nimael will fissure out of the way before I can run him over.
My heart bangs in my chest. I need to get out of here before people leave their apartments to check on the noise, and definitely before the cops arrive, but I don’t know what the elari will do when I go. Will they try to follow me? Will they kill any humans they find? Will they—
Shit. Will they stay long enough for Kyol to fissure here? I have his complete attention now, and I’ve shattered his control so much that I can feel every ounce of his worry.
Stay away! I try to scream at him. Then I draw in as deep and calming a breath as I can manage and slam down the gas pedal.
Nimael fissures out of the way, no problem.
I check my rearview mirror. The three elari are there. They’re not pursuing us, though. They’re watching me drive away.
Beside me, Lorn murmurs something in Fae. He’s awkwardly wedged between the dash and the passenger seat. He needs help. He needs a healer. My thoughts turn back to Kyol. He must be in the Inner City. If he weren’t, he would have fissured to my apartment already.
But he’s moving. He’s trying to get outside the silver walls.
Think happy thoughts, McKenzie, I order myself. Rainbows. Ponies. Kimkis. I don’t want him to fissure to my apartment just yet. In ten minutes, maybe. Surely the elari won’t hang around that long.
I look again at Lorn. He’s hurt and bleeding and saying things I don’t understand in a feverish murmur. His chaos lusters are crawling across his skin. That’s not normal. They should be quick and frenzied from being in my car.
My apartment complex vanishes from my rearview mirror when I take a left at the first intersection. I have no idea where I’m going. I can’t take Lorn to a hospital, not even to a clinic or doctor’s office. I don’t know anyone in the city, and . . .
No, that’s not entirely true. I do know someone in the city, someone who’s familiar with fae.
SIXTEEN
I SLAM ON my brakes outside Kynlee’s house. Kyol’s at my apartment. I hold my breath, willing him to be careful and praying that Nimael and the other two elari have already left.
Beside me, Lorn shifts. His eyes are shut, and he’s still awkwardly sitting on the floor, not in the passenger seat.
“Lena.” His voice is so weak, I barely make out the name.
“I’ll get her here as quickly as I can,” I tell him. Then, under my breath, I murmur, “Get away from my apartment, Kyol.”
The elari must not have hung around, though. His heart isn’t pounding like he’s fighting for his life, but he’s moving, following the pull of the life-bond in my direction. It took me fifteen minutes to drive here. He might make the trip in half an hour.
I turn off the car then look at Lorn, at his bruised and swollen face and his blood-soaked clothing. He’s not going to be able to walk up the sidewalk on his own, but I don’t want to leave him in the car. His edarratae are worrying me. He needs to get away from the tech now. Besides, if I somehow manage to drag him to the front porch, the presence of a half-dead fae might make it harder for Kynlee’s dad to slam the door in my face.
I climb out of the car, then open the passenger-side door.
“Come on, Lorn.”
His head turns toward my voice, and he lifts an arm, but that’s all the help I get. I’m not strong enough to lift his limp body over my shoulder, so I pull him out of the car and onto the pavement. Hooking my arms under his, I back up one step at a time, dragging him across the cement.
I’m sweating by the time I prop Lorn against the porch wall, and I lean against it for a moment, too, catching my breath and looking back down the sidewalk. Lorn’s left a line of blood all the way from my car. A normal human won’t see the crimson trail, but one who has the Sight will. Kynlee and her dad will.
Nothing I can do about it now.
I ring the bell and pound on the door. Wait half a minute then knock and ring the bell again.
Still nothing, not even when I bang on the window to the right of the door. Both Kynlee and her dad must sleep like the dead. I’m considering the possibility that I might have to break in when the door finally opens.