Marjorie M Liu - [Hunter Kiss 02] - Darkness Calls by Darkness Calls (v5.0) (html)

Author:Darkness Calls (v5.0) (html) [(html), Darkness Calls (v5.0)]
Format: epub
Published: 2009-11-17T14:02:48+00:00

Two cars veered into the road ahead of us, blocking both lanes. Rex swore, slamming on the brakes. Behind us, more tires squealed. Two black Audis veered into the sidewalks, and Zee crashed through the windshield, rolling like a tumbleweed. But the road was now empty.

“Reverse!” I shouted. “Put the car in reverse!”

Rex switched gears and accelerated backward. He was a lousy driver. We weaved across both lanes, nearly hitting one of the crashed cars. I glimpsed two little bodies tumbling out of the stalled Audis. Aaz held a child’s baseball bat. Dek and Mal, deep in my hair, sang “Blaze of Glory.”

Amen, I thought, and grabbed Grant’s arm. Behind us, more headlights. Accelerating toward us. No room on the sidewalks to go around, and no side streets. Ahead, the cars that had blocked the road were also coming fast. We were boxed in.

Rex slammed his knuckles against his brow, still trying to steer the cab with his other hand. He was not watching the road. “I can’t hold this body much longer.”

Zee appeared between my feet and grabbed my right hand. I ignored Killy’s gasp, and stared into his red-glowing eyes. Raw and Aaz slipped from the shadows, as well, clambering over Grant.

“Maxine,” Zee rasped. “Time to go.”

His claws squeezed. Rex shouted, and the world faded—into the abyss, swallowed down a throat of pure darkness. My right hand burned, and a terrible hunger filled my heart.

Make us safe, I thought.

Light burned the backs of my eyes. Light, inside the abyss.

I lost time. I lost myself. My innards tumbled into somersaults, and when I opened my eyes, I was somewhere else.

Alone.

I rolled over on my back. It was night. Tree branches waved gently above my head, and I saw starlight. I could hardly feel my body. Felt like I was floating inside my skin.

I heard a baby crying. Soft wails, filling the night. I began to sit up, and realized that Zee and the boys were hard on my skin—tattoos again.

That was not right. I had to be dreaming.

So, I treated it like a dream. I had no choice. I thought about Grant and home, and even Rex and Byron, but nothing happened. Trees surrounded me. The baby kept crying.

I walked. My feet did not touch the ground. As in a dream, I skimmed the earth, and pushed through the forest that grew around me tall and thick and far apart, with their leaves of autumn withered and faded. A softness filled me as I moved, a warmth that wrapped around my heart, dulling fear and love, and anger. I was a ghost, and only the baby’s agonized wails had hooks—compelling me, sinking me.

I walked, and soon after, found the baby. Swaddled in soft cloth, resting in a pile of dried leaves. Small, pale, with chubby, strong limbs. Less than a year old, I thought.

She was not alone.

Zee was with her. All the boys were gathered close, muscles gliding beneath their skin, which was moonlit-clad, soft as liquid obsidian. They were peering at the infant, whose cries were agonizing, spirit-rending.

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