Chase the Dark (36 page)

He grunted in agreement.

She huffed a laugh of pure relief, glad she wasn’t bawling. She really felt like bawling. Instead, she lifted her head and squinted in the general direction of his face. The darkness was absolute.

“Can we go now?”

“Fuck yes. I thought you’d never ask.”

She rolled her eyes and warily clambered to her feet, one hand stretched upward in expectation of a ceiling. She found it a foot above her head. “What is this place?”

“Probably an old escape tunnel from the Consulate’s original construction,” he answered. “Old houses like these often had a few tunnels and escape exits.”

She glanced blindly in his direction, surprised to hear his usual voice. Sounded like he was back in control and in glamour. “Which way is out?”

“This way,” he said without hesitation. Before she could ask, his hand touched hers. She curled her fingers trustingly around his and let him guide her. He walked with unerring confidence, able to sense their path.

The tunnel went on for at least a hundred yards. Time had no meaning in the blackness. She concentrated on each step, trying not to trip on the slimy, uneven stone floor. Ash was a patient guide even though she knew he was dying to get out into the open air.

She knew they were close when a breeze touched her face. Ash led her to another trapdoor, set in the ceiling above their heads. Piper stared greedily at the dim shape as Ash shoved the door up and hauled himself out before reaching back in to pull her up.

The trapdoor opened into a dirty, cluttered tool shed. Before she could make out any identifiable outlines in the darkness, Ash broke the locked door and rushed out into the night. She dove out after him, surprised to step out into steady rain. Cold water peppered her face, the most refreshing thing she’d ever felt. Trees surrounded them; the tunnel had brought them some distance from the house.

Ash dropped onto the wet grass, sat for a second, then flopped onto his back. He closed his eyes, letting the rain wash his face clean. Piper looked at herself, unsurprised to discover she was covered in dirt that was fast turning to mud. Beyond caring, she slumped beside Ash. He was still shockingly pale.

“You were amazing,” she told him. “You saved my life. Again.”

“You saved mine,” he murmured. “The only way I would’ve gotten that collar off without you was if I had broken my own jaw trying to tear if off.” He was quiet for a second. “I was nearly out of my mind enough to try.”

“At least you didn’t scream,” she offered. “I screamed with the spider.”

His mouth quirked in a tired smile.

She sighed and leaned back. “If the asshole Gaians hadn’t put that stupid collar on you in the first place, we could’ve been out of there in no time.”

He gave her a strange look, his irises still dangerously dark. “Piper, that collar saved your life.”

She blinked. “Huh?”

He sat up and rubbed both hands over his face and into his hair. “Piper . . . when the cellar first came down, I was so fucking crazy with fear that I would’ve blown up half the house myself to keep from being buried. I wouldn’t have realized my mistake until I calmed down enough to recognize whatever pieces of you were left. If I hadn’t had the collar on.”

She stared at him. “But you protected me. I remember.”

He hesitated. “Even as I was pushing you down, I was already grabbing for every bit of magic I had. I would’ve killed you by accident. I wasn’t thinking straight.”

“That’s not what happened,” she said firmly. “Let’s not play the ‘what if’ game. I want to find Lyre and get the hell out of here.”

Ash looked away, but not before fear lanced his expression. She knew what he was thinking: chances were, Lyre hadn’t been as lucky as them when that explosion went off. Gritting her teeth, she got to her feet and stepped up to him. He blinked at her, his expression puzzled.

She forgot what she’d been planning to say. That boyishly questioning expression on his face was just like the badass draconian in her kitchen with a pink can of cream soda in his hand. It was so absurdly out of place that it was charming. She had to clench her hands to keep from dropping into his lap and kissing him until all her shaky, lingering fear was burned away.

She gave herself a mental slap. Get a grip. It was the survivor’s high. She’d already vowed never to kiss him again. Ever.

“We will find Lyre and leave,” she told him fiercely. “That is exactly what’s going to happen, got it?”

He blinked again. His lips curved. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Are you laughing at me?” she demanded.

“No, ma’am.”

She narrowed her eyes to slits. His mouth twitched as he worked for a neutral expression. She wondered if she could make him laugh. She’d never heard him laugh.

Oh God. What was she thinking? It was survivor’s syndrome. And possibly a bit of Damsel-in-Distress syndrome. So he’d saved her—again. That was no reason to start swooning. He’d just admitted to having almost killed her.

“Let’s go,” she said abruptly.

He finally got up and they started into the trees. The rain was lightening a little, but the sound of it on the leafy canopy above was loud enough to drown out all other noise until they got close enough to see orange light flickering through the dark tree trunks. This light wasn’t from any electric bulb. They stopped at the edge of the trees and stared.

The front lawn of the Consulate stretched before them. Half the house was a pile of broken, twisted rubble. The other half was on fire. Prefect cruisers and vans formed a barrier at the far edge of the lawn, their flashing lights adding to the chaos. Guns fired randomly from both sides. Flashes and booms from magic attacks burst into being and died just as fast as over fifty prefects, haemons, and daemons battled on the burning Consulate’s front lawn.

Piper pressed both hands to her mouth. Ash shifted closer, his shoulder brushing hers. She could feel his tension. The sight before them was horrifying. Unmoving bodies were scattered across the lawn like discarded toys. The prefects hunkered behind their vehicles, firing indiscriminately with mundane and magical ammo. The daemon group was tucked into the rubble of the collapsed side of the Consulate, launching their own attacks as they sheltered amidst the bones of the house.

The haemons, she wasn’t surprised to see, were caught in the middle, trapped in the lethal crossfire. Her heart pounded in her throat as she scanned the rain-obscured profiles for a familiar one. Had her mother escaped?

“We’ll never find Lyre in this,” she whispered. Her throat closed as she realized they would have to leave him. She wouldn’t allow herself to consider the chances of him being alive to find. What if he was hurt? What if he needed them?

Ash glanced at her. “That’s not what you said would happen.”

She swallowed, not in the mood to be teased. “That was before—”

Fingers tickled her sides and ran down her hips. Lips brushed her ear.

“Hello gorgeous.”

Piper spun around and met exhausted but still mischievous gold eyes.

“Lyre!” She threw her arms around him and crushed him in the tightest hug she could manage.

“Owww,” he complained even as he wrapped his arms around her and squeezed back. He disentangled and stepped back to examine her. “You don’t look too worse for wear, considering you were buried under half a house.”

“We got out okay,” she told him, examining him at the same time. His shirt was burned and his face bloodied, but he had no serious injuries. “How did you make it out?”

“I had to book it across the house to get away from some daemons, so I was at the other end when the bomb went off.” A long pause. “I thought you were both dead,” he admitted in a whisper. He flicked a glance at Ash, then pulled Piper closer. She thought he wanted another hug—until his hand cupped her cheek. Then his lips were against hers, brief but urgent. The kiss was over almost as soon as it began, leaving her reeling as Lyre turned to Ash and gave him a friendly slap on the back.

“Glad to see you alive, man,” he congratulated Ash. “I never would’ve found you if not for Zwi. She led me straight to you.”

Piper quit staring at the spot where Lyre had been standing—and kissing her! Why did he keep choosing the worst times ever to kiss her?—and turned to Ash, surprised to see Zwi perched on his shoulder, frantically nuzzling his cheek.

“Did you know Zwi can turn big?” she blurted.

Ash didn’t quite look at her as he nodded. He said nothing.

Lyre cleared his throat and flashed her a half-smile. “By the way, Piper. I like the mud-wrestling look. I think it would work better without clothes though.”

“Lyre—” she began warningly.

“Quiet,” Ash hissed. “Something is wrong.”

“What?”

Ash stepped back to the edge of the trees. Piper faced the battlefield again. It was quiet. Still. No one was moving, daemons, haemons, and prefects alike crouched in readiness, watching, waiting.

“No,” Ash whispered. “No fucking way.”

Piper sank slowly into a crouch, caught in the spell of silence even as she wanted to demand answers. Everyone out on the lawn was staring toward the corner of the lawn furthest from Piper, Ash, and Lyre. What were they all looking at, waiting for?

The answer came too soon.

In unreal silence, a prefect cruiser flew into the air like a toy thrown by an angry child. It dropped into the middle of the lawn with a terrible metallic crash, skidded comically on its nose in the mud, then toppled over onto its roof. A second car followed, lights still flashing, before landing on its side and rolling into the ruins of the house.

Piper hardly noticed the trajectory of the second car. Her attention was locked on the sight revealed by the removal of the two vehicles. With its path now cleared, the most horrifying beast she’d ever seen lurched into the open.

Its body was the same size as the cars it had been hurling, but it seemed twice as large with all the tentacles. It looked like a massive, scaled, warty octopus with dull red skin patterned in random, ugly whorls. Those huge tentacles rippled bonelessly as the monster half crawled, half dragged itself onto the lawn. There it paused, apparently surveying the scene even though it had no discernible eyes.

No one moved. They all seemed too terrified to even breathe.

The beast’s front tentacles whipped out with terrifying speed. It snatched two prefects around the middle, yanking them effortlessly into the air. The beast reared back, revealing a huge, fang-lined hole underneath its bulbous head. Before anyone could react, before its victims could do more than scream, the monster shoved the two humans into that wet hole. It tilted forward as it pulled the tentacles out of its mouth—without any people in their grasp.

Piper gagged. That monster had just
eaten
two prefects.

All at once, the people on the lawn realized that holding perfectly still wouldn’t save them. Pandemonium erupted. Guns went off, all aimed at the creature. Magic blasted, fireballs slamming into it. Half the fighters up and ran for it, bolting in every direction.

The beast bellowed, pulling all its tentacles in close. Its body deflated like a puffer fish, shrinking to a third its previous size. When the attacks continued, the beast reared, swelling back to its full size as it flung its tentacles in every direction. It bellowed again and flowed toward the nearest group of prefects.

Hearing its bellow chilled Piper’s blood as déjà vu swept through her. She knew that sound. She remembered another sight of a red tentacle—wrapped around Ash’s neck and dragging him back into the secret passageway at her house the night the Gaians had tried to steal the Sahar.

“The choronzon?” she choked. “
That’s
the choronzon?” If she hadn’t just seen it contract its body, she never would have believed it could fit inside the Consulate.

Ash nodded grimly, his face pale as he watched the monster slaughter a path through the prefects toward the center of the lawn. Her mother had told her the Gaians had borrowed the choronzon from some allies. Piper had never imagined the idiots would still have the monster at their hideout.

She cast Ash a disbelieving look. “You
fought
that thing?
How?
”

Ash stared at the beast, jaw clenched tight, and didn’t answer.

“It was being controlled,” Lyre explained tersely. “Like a magic-dampening collar, only the choronzon was dampened
and
under someone’s power. They were dictating its movements like a puppet. That made it weak and slow.”

Just like Mona had said. Piper licked her lips. “It’s not being controlled any more, is it?”

“No.”

The monster bellowed again as it wrapped three tentacles around a car and rolled it out of the way. The four prefects crouched behind the vehicle ran for their lives. All the attacks on the monster were making it angrier. Through the haze of rain, Piper couldn’t see if they were even injuring the choronzon. It plowed through the remaining prefects. Most of the haemons and daemons had already fled. The choronzon wasn’t eating people anymore—it must have been full—but it kept on killing.