The owner of the whip might.

  I shoved out a hand, covered it in charges of bridge force, and protected myself from the fall. I smashed face-first down into the disturbed dirt of the exercise quadrangle.

  My face smooshed against it, and I breathed it in, choking and spluttering hard.

  Then I felt a foot press against the back of my neck. It kicked me.

  I rolled, shooting pain pulsing down my arm. Then I jerked up.

  Newstead Bridge. My bridge. The raging water. The stone arches. The scratching branches. The power. The root. The protection. All of it. I encased myself with snippets of those thoughts like someone building a quilted jacket.

  As the memories swirled around me, power ignited in my grip – yellow flashes of dancing force.

  I shoved my hand forward, not even bothering to see what had attacked me. I created a pulse like a shield. Just in time.

  Another whip sliced against it. This one came from the side of the prison near the quadrangle fence. 20 meters high, tipped with barbed wire, security cameras, motion detectors, and powerful magical turrets, you’d be mad to mess with it. Yet as the whip rebounded off my shield, it cracked right through the fence, slicing it like a chef knife to ricotta.

  I twisted as the magical turrets exploded one by one.

  I kept my hands up, forcing the bridge power out in a great arc.

  The other whip still held me by the ankle. I pumped my power down into it, gritting my teeth, ignoring the fact the whip now drew blood. As drops of it slithered down the side of my leg and onto my shoe, I forced my bridge power down and cut the whip in half. It was a struggle and felt like trying to decapitate an armored worm. In the end, I won, and in a surge of relief, fell to my knees.

  I still couldn’t see what held the whip.

  I heard screams. Stalkers, ha?

  Unconsciously I now obscured my scent from them. Both in the real world and the spirit realm.

  It didn’t mean they couldn’t find me. They still possessed eyes. They could also communicate. If one saw me, it could call to its friends. Then we’d be back on, back in the fight for our lives.

  10 stalkers rained down the side of the jail.

  “William, William?” I called desperately. He was either occupied in the jail or couldn’t hear me.

  I couldn’t even hear myself. A scream from a massive stalker punched over the quadrangle. I yanked my head up to see the stalker teetering on the gutter. The gutter groaned underneath it, breaking as easily as a strand of hair holding up a 100-kg human.

  The massive stalker opened its mouth, its teeth glinting once, then jumped.

  I backed off, shoulders locking against the fence behind me. I yanked my arm up, and I called on my bridge root. All of it. I didn’t technically open a sub-gate. Weirdly, I clearly wasn’t that desperate yet. I still surrendered to my power, and it bypassed the wards preventing magic. You’d think they wouldn’t be in the spirit realm. I imagined they piggybacked from the real world.

  I needed all my magic. Right now—

  The massive stalker attacked. It bent down like a rugby player then charged forward and slammed its shoulder into my shield. It didn’t buckle. Yet. The force of it still pushed me forward against the fence. Electric zaps of magical force ate into my skin.

  Not all the turrets had been destroyed. The wire itself still possessed its own wards.

  They whipped at me and flashed like a cat o’ nine tails. They burnt the back of my jacket through, and the smell of singed flesh choked my nostrils. I gagged against the pain and forced my hand forward, meeting the large stalker’s eyes.

  I’d once discussed with William whether I could wear the Newstead daggers constantly. He’d decided it was a bad idea.

  It would send the wrong message to the other vamps – something I didn’t understand. I got it, though. They were very powerful weapons. I didn’t know what would happen if his enemies got their hands on them. They could only come out when we needed them. I sure needed them now, though.

  My hand lurched toward my holster, but my gun wasn’t there. The guards had taken it off me.

  Which meant – sigh. It was down to my magic again.

  As the stalker opened its beady red eyes and promised death was imminent, I communicated a different promise. “I’ll set you free,” I grunted. “Though you can’t see this, I know you subconsciously don’t want to be a White Knight stooge anymore. You ultimately come from the spirit realm. You’re basically one of those sprites. One day I’ll turn you back into what you always were.”

  The promise slipped out of my lips, though slipped out of my soul was a better explanation. I thought of it often, mostly in the bath. After William had admitted stalkers were created by splicing spirits with vampires and werewolves, I’d started feeling sorry for them. Not so sorry that I stopped fighting. No way. They just… it was so unnatural. And so unfair.

  Which was the White Knights MO, by the way.

  But could it be possible to revert the stalkers to their natural state? Should I even try?

  I knew the answer somewhere deep down in my heart. Yes. I should try. I owed it to the spirit realm.

  Though it had filled my life with crazy danger, I’d be dead a trillion times over without it.

  I would soon be dead anyway, because the stalker didn’t even flinch at my promise.

  It bent down and tried to headbutt right through my spell. It almost worked. But I abruptly sat, squeezed under its massive form, and lanced backward with an elbow strike. My arm broke right through the wire, and it crumbled around me. I kicked back, rolling.

  I was still within the prison’s grounds – just in the area between the fenced quadrangle and the primary wall. That was a gargantuan, massive sandstone affair with huge magical turrets.

  I blinked at one now as I twisted. I saw it – until something took it out. I paid enough attention this time that I watched a huge tail slicing right through it.

  Losing my breath, I couldn’t look away.

  What the hell could be that large?

  The massive stalker rammed through the quadrangle fence. A giant section of wire broke around it and hurtled toward me like a flying spatula.

  I couldn’t dodge – so it was time to attack. I thrust forward, commanding bridge force to beat in my veins and rise through my heart. I filled my mind with Newstead Bridge thoughts. I engorged myself with memories of the water’s power, of the snow, of the forest. Of all of it.

  I envisioned the same white-hot energy from when I defeated Luigi.

  I punched forward. Right through the fence. My fist sailed into the stalker’s stomach. It didn’t expect the blow, and its eyes widened. It sneered and yanked its face close, but I snapped its magical body in half.

  As cracks shot over its face and it crumbled, it still stared At me. Weirdly I wondered if it finally reacted to my earlier promise.

  My promise to return it to its true state. As it died, some of its anger melted away. None of mine did. It was the only thing running me.

  More stalkers fell down around me. I had no idea where they were coming from. Maybe those stalker crows I’d seen in Gardner Cemetery were dropping them like helicopters.

  Or maybe—

  A god-awful cry split the air so loudly, I crumpled to my knees and grabbed my ears in pain. As searing tinnitus roared through them, I yanked my head up and saw that tail again. It swiped effortlessly through three more magical turrets. It obliterated them with such little resistance, they were like honeycomb to a hammer.

  The large stalker reached me.

  I ignored it.

  William often called me crazy. Or at least kamikaze. I hadn’t believed him in the beginning. Now I saw his reasoning. Even though real quaking fear filled me, I had to find out what that creature was sooner rather than later. If the White Knights had developed something that big and ferocious, navigating the spirit realm would be almost impossible.

  I reached the perimeter wall.

  I didn’t know how to blast through it.

  The tail did.

  I wasn’t sure if it could track me, or if it was just doing maximum damage.

  The tail sliced right down the wall 10 meters to my side.

  It crumbled. I heard the powerful magical wards within shattering.

  I rolled as rock dust spewed high, thick enough to outcompete the billowing snow clouds. And I saw… saw a dragon. Or something close. Maybe the stalker version thereof. Massive beady eyes stared at me through the crack in the wall. I glimpsed a wing tip so large, it could flatten a block.

  My breath became stuck in my throat – stuck in my damn soul. My whole body revolted, promising I could never defeat something like that. Luigi had been hard enough.

  The stalker dragon moaned so loud and low, it pulsed through the ground. It must be the origin of the earthquake. The ground now shook so badly, I fell to my knees. Several stalkers reached me. I almost couldn’t stand—

  A blast of power sailed over my shoulder and slammed into the dragon’s eye. But the creature closed its armored lids in time. With a great cry, it took off. One of its wingtips pounded down against the wall, and it crumbled. It couldn’t reach me. William wrapped an arm around my middle and rolled with me.

  As he did, he opened a gate.

  He pulled me back into the real world.

  The real world that was chaos, mind you.

  Prison guards and police ran around us, securing the rest of the jail.

  It meant for a moment – one sweet second – I enjoyed William’s weight on me. I looked into his eyes as my breath froze. My world contracted. My body yearned to touch him, to slide my hand down his shoulder and chest.

  He yearned for something else. His eyes pulsed yellow – once. Then they settled when he confirmed I was fine. He swept me up to my feet.

  I doubled over in pain and shock. “William. What—” I stared at the wall. It wasn’t destroyed – this was the real world. That giant dragon couldn’t come across – or I hoped it couldn’t.

  William read the terror pulsing through my gaze. He shook his head. “It can’t come to the real world.”

  “You say that like you know what it is. William… has that thing been patrolling the spirit realm this whole time?”

  “I only glimpsed it recently.”

  “Why didn’t you warn me?”

  “I didn’t think you’d go into the spirit realm without telling me.”

  Oh God, here we go again.

  William and I argued about the spirit realm more than anything else. He hated the idea of me heading there, period. But if I had to go there, he wanted to accompany me. It’s just it never worked out like that. Either he’d get kidnapped, or I’d be on my own without another option.

  Though I wanted to repeat this argument, I couldn’t. I lifted my ankle and showed him the fresh blood sliding down it. “Something yanked me out of the real world into the spirit realm.”

  “Impossible.” His brow twitched.

  I’d just experienced hell. The prison riot was over – that didn’t matter. The thought of that dragon glaring at me would stop me from sleeping for the rest of my life.

  I palmed what I thought was sweat from my face, then got distracted by a handful of my own blood. “William, there are times to doubt me. There are times to just accept what I’m saying. The whip grabbed me and pulled me into the spirit realm. Please—”

  Something cracked in his eyes. Not something bad. Just a little wall of resistance. I watched it crumbling as effectively as a dragon tail through stone. “I believe you,” he said.

  His voice tightened. He wasn’t lying. I could suddenly tell why he didn’t want to believe me in the first place. This was just something else for him to worry about. Uncharacteristically, he swore, grabbed the back of his head, turned his fingers in hard, and dragged his nails down.

  He turned. Jacob ran toward us, arm in a sling, face as steely as a mansion dagger. “Just got word – John’s gone.”

  I closed my eyes and sucked in a raking breath. “Of course he is. Don’t tell me,” I lifted a hand, “every other confirmed White Knight is gone, too.”

  “Bingo,” Jacob said, not enjoying the game.

  Dejected, defeated, bloody, and scared, I turned to William. “What next?”

  Seriously, what next? We kept scrounging amazing victories from the hands of defeat. Then our enemies would just rise up, play some new card, and defeat us repeatedly.

  What would we do? How could we defeat them? What path should I take?

  Those questions repeated in my head, begging me to answer.

  All I could do was stare at William, watch his shoulders descend a centimeter, turn, and walk away.

  Chapter 3

  Sally handed me a coffee as she sat on the blue plastic swing beside me and kicked her legs out. She had good coordination, meaning she could sip from her keep cup and swing hard simultaneously.

  I leaned against my swing’s icy cold chain, relishing the coffee’s stunning aroma. “You always find the best brews.”

  “Sure do. And the greatest biscuits. Here’s a packet from my mom to you. She’s worried about you. I’m worried about you, too.”

  I grabbed the greasy brown paper bag, crammed a macaroon into my mouth, and growled when Sally tried to take one.

  She squeezed her lips together and laughed.

  “I thought you said you were worried about me?” I spluttered out of biscuit-covered lips.

  Fortunately it wasn’t snowing. It hadn’t snowed in a week. Maybe winter was over, ha? Yeah right. We still had another month.

  I could tell from the Arctic wind whipping through Fairbridge more snow would come. The epic kind.

  And when it snowed, it always brought danger.

  I stared at the skies, almost begging them to start the blizzard now. Hard considering there was barely a cloud in sight.

  Still, this playground was empty. I’d never visit one with vulnerable people around.

  My mere presence was a risk.

  Hell, these days I rarely hung out with Sally. She’d figured out why and snapped on the phone to get over it. She would not sacrifice her best friend just because I was scared.

  But could I sacrifice her? That cold thought slipped in from somewhere.

  William had promised I’d make harder decisions as I became more powerful. More of the city would lean on me. I wouldn’t be able to pick my friends over everyone else—

  She twisted on her swing, stopped close beside me, and whacked me on the back of the head.

  My messy, crinkled red hair flew in front of my face, and I dropped several splatters of coffee over my jeans. “Hey,” I spluttered. “What’s that for?”

  “I’m worried for you,” she reminded in a trite tone.

  “You hit me on the back of the head?”

  “Ha? Oh, I’m not worried for your safety. You can kick ass now, girl. Though you always could. You just held yourself back. You don’t do that anymore.” She smiled at me, so proud, she resembled the mum of the smartest kid ever.

  She returned to sipping her coffee.

  If I wanted my answer, I’d need to interrogate her, ha? That brought up uncomfortable memories.

  Matthew and his White Knight buddies had escaped jail yesterday. So far we’d heard nothing. The waiting game was killing me. William had told me to take the day off, to do something, to hang out with friends. Maybe he’d seen the fear coating me like tar.

  Maybe he just needed me out of his hair.

  This city had been fine before I’d come along. OK, it hadn’t been fine. But I’d rattled the chains, and the ghosts had risen from the cracks.

  Not my point. I sometimes got the impression William did better when I wasn’t around. I… distracted him.

  Sally did it again, twisting midair in the swing, shoving her feet down, and coming to a jolting stop right in front of me.

  I almost spat a mouthful of coffee and biscuit crumbs in her face. “What are you doing?”

  “Catching you in the act,” she said through a massive grin. It bent her ruby-red lips up. It was almost seductive.

  My eyebrows flattened. “Why are you worried about me, Sally?”

  “Because you still haven’t done anything with your boss, have you?”

  I paled, pretending I was angry. Then the thought of doing things to William filled my mind, and my cheeks snapped to a ruddy pink.

  I hoped to hide them with my frazzled fringe, but it didn’t work.

  Sally tucked my hair behind my ear, leaning close, then purred, “Come on, girl. He is literally the hottest man in the city. And he’s all yours if you want him.”

  I laughed. It was far, far too bitter. “All mine? You sure about that? You sure I can handle him?”

  I didn’t want to have this conversation. I trusted William, I really did, but I remembered his curse every day. It felt like Damocles’s sword a centimeter from his head.

  When the pressure got to William, would he snap? What would it take for him—

  Matthew’s horrid words wheedled into my mind.

  The White Knights wanted William. They needed him to transform into his full vampiric side. To do that… he’d eat my heart out.

  I shuddered. Sally laughed and planted a hand on her hip but froze. “Come on. Don’t be scared. I’ve seen you two around.”

  I pouted. “No, you haven’t.”

  “I have. You’re constantly by his side. You think I don’t move through this city? You think I don’t read the mags?”

  I jolted. My coffee shook, and it splattered froth over my wrist.

  The same wrist William was yet to assess in detail.

  We hadn’t seen each other since returning yesterday from the riot.

  He wouldn’t forget. I knew he wouldn’t. Or… I didn’t want him to. I wanted him to walk right through the doors of my cute Gothic cottage, pull my sleeve back, and see what I’d done to myself.

  Why? Because I thought he could stop the itch? No. Because—

  Sally leaned in close. “Yeah, kid, you’re in the mags. I’ve seen photos of you two. But now you are distracted, because you’re thinking of him. Why don’t you transform thoughts into actions—”

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32