Page 61 of The World Undone

ELI

“Ipromise,” Max said, pushing me out the door.

It had been almost twenty minutes, but she still didn’t have full mobility. She could speak, and had control over most of the muscles in her face and arms, but it would probably be another hour or two before she had complete control of her body back. Even so, she refused to leave the medical building. The girl, Ellie, was attached to her like velcro, and Max was devoting most of her energy towards trying to comfort her. It was a good distraction for her, because while I knew she wouldn’t let herself truly sink into the grief she was feeling, I knew that Greta’s loss was hitting her hard.

I hesitated, not wanting to leave her, even though she was surrounded by people and had Wade and Declan doting on her.

She grunted, in frustration. “Go. Bring him home. And be careful. He’s not in his right mind.”

I hesitated for another second, then pressed a chaste kiss to her lips and nodded.

It was decided that while the others fortified The Lodge, and made sure that there weren’t any other shades in our midst, Bishop, Atlas, Darius, and I would take lead on tracking down my dad.

Which, judging by the sight of things outside, wasn’t going to be as difficult as I’d initially imagined tracking down a delirious werewolf would be.

The sun was up, lighting our way. Wherever Seamus had gone, he’d been in too much of a state to cover up his path. The snow was streaked with blood—though the scene looked far less gory with the sun shining on it, compared to the horrors of that basement.

I shivered at the memory of that sight. It would be burned into my brain for the rest of my life.

My stomach had dropped at the sight of all that blood—the condition of the corpses, so much death and decay. Even though I knew Max would be okay, it still felt like I’d swallowed knots of metal seeing her like that.

I turned to Darius, desperate for something to erase that sight away. “Max mentioned you teleported. Into the room?”

The vampire arched a brow, glancing briefly at Bishop, then shrugged. If we were going to get a hold on Max’s powers, it was only a matter of time before the council knew we could share them. “I did.”

“How?” Atlas asked, his voice even, steady. He hadn’t said much, but he seemed to be doing slightly better today than he had been, more himself.

Which was odd, considering the ordeal we’d woken up to.

“Not entirely sure.” He ran a hand through his hair, the silvery-blond streaked through with a few bits of dried blood. “I knew she was in trouble, that something was very, very wrong with that nurse, and I needed to get to her.” He squinted slightly as he stared into the sun. “I think knowing that it was possible,” he nodded to me, “you know, after the pyro here turned into a torch,” I shot him a glare that he fully ignored, “knowing it was possible, that I could reach for and use her powers, made it easier to access them? It’s easier to reach for something you know exists, if that makes sense? That knowledge, and the adrenaline, made it happen.” He grunted. “Still felt queasy as fuck though, even though it was a short jump. Miracle I held onto my stomach, between that and the puddle of fleshy soup waiting for me on the other side of the door.”

And we were back on the visuals of that room. So much for a subject change then.

I swallowed back the urge to vomit. Thank the gods I hadn’t had time for breakfast this morning. Would’ve been a waste of resources.

“That makes sense, I guess,” Atlas said, seemingly unbothered by the visuals Darius’s description conjured. “We’ll have to work on that more today when we get back. Faster we get a handle on using her powers, the better we’ll be able to protect her.”

I almost tripped at the familiar tone in his voice. He almost sounded like…himself—bossy team leader and all.

“Explain this shade shit again.” Bishop shot Darius a dark glare, as if he’d been the mastermind behind the basement of gore.

He was on edge. His home had been infiltrated by a powerful demon few had even heard of, in the middle of the night, while we all slept through it. And several members of this community were now dead because of it. There was no denying the rage and guilt boiling below his skin, and the fanghole was an easy target to aim all of that vitriol at—something I understood better than most. Still, I had to fight back the urge to swat the guy across the back of his head.

More would have been dead if Darius hadn’t killed Greta—er, the demon reanimating her body, anyway.

I’d been around Bishop a lot when I was growing up, and, like his cousin, he was never really a sunshine and daisies kind of guy. Still, I didn’t remember him being this easy to anger.

There must’ve been something in the Andrews family bloodline that turned sour after age twenty-five.

If Darius was annoyed by Bishop’s displaced aggression though, he didn’t say anything. “Don’t know much about them, I’ve met exactly two shades before, and neither time offered much of an opportunity for a Q and A session. All I know is that they seem to have the ability to possess a dead body, but the duration of the stay in their fleshy hotel is largely determined by the power of the person they’re reanimating. Meaning they rarely stay in one—er—place very long. I’m guessing that after Seamus demolished the crew down there, whatever corpse they’d hitched a ride in grew stale, and the nurse was the only immediately available option.”

My lip curled at the thought of my dad doing that to the patients down there. It still didn’t make sense to me. He wasn’t himself, sure, but he was locked up. And, even if he’d gotten free, why tear up those people, bring them back to the basement where he’d been held captive, and then leave? “How did they get down there, though? And where’d the shade initiate? In one of the patients? Was it here all along?”

And how did we know that the shade wasn’t the one who’d killed the people in the basement? Why did we assume it was my dad?

The sound of our boots crunching through snow created a strange soundtrack to the morning hike.

Darius was quiet for a while, considering, then stopped for a moment and nodded to Bishop. “The bodies—were they all patients?”

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