Page 148 of Winterfall Destiny

“Voice down,” says Tobias sharply. “We echo up here.”

“Gabriella’s turning and storing humans. That’s a step further than recruiting supes. If we want to stop that, we stop her,” says Andrei in a lower voice. “That’d take out most high level too, since all her closest and most powerful must contain the blood mixed with the First’s. It’s her insurance policy against dissent—if anybody took Gabriella out, they’d die.” Andrei’s jaw sets hard. “Maeve, even you have to agree we’ve no choice. Take her out and quickly.”

“Are we contacting Dorian?” asks Ash.

“No.” Tobias and I speak at the same time, but Tobias continues, “However much he pushes himself in, Dorian isn’t part of us. He’s more unpredictable than Andrei.”

“Gabriella would be dead the moment he stepped into the place,” adds Jamie.

“Fuck,” mutters Ash suddenly. “They are taking the coffins.”

I’m looking at a horror film again—men with faces covered carry coffins on their shoulders into the van’s dark interior. They’re built heavily, showing no sign that the coffins are heavy as they support them on their broad shoulders.

Dragons?

“This shit ends tonight,” says Andrei darkly as he watches too.

But what does the First want? Gabriella dead or alive? The creature’s supposed anger with Gabriella for stealing the blood and the claims it couldn’t kill Gabriella originally was bullshit. The creature’s opening move pushed us into the game. We’re to play out our roles to maintain the First’s envisioned future in a series of events that brought us here.

Or is this the end for me and the guys? The First ensured we’re gathered together and that could be to wipe out all her enemies at this place and time. Ash shared this theory earlier and it’s one I believe too readily. We’ve discussed what to do if the First appears—literal fight or flight, although the fight part’s pointless.

Futures will be unthreaded and tangled again tonight.

Who won’t have one anymore?

Quiet voices grow in number and bounce around the auditorium below. We all look at each other, before Tobias nods and we creep downstairs to the doorway between the foyer and the back of the stalls. We could hide in the balcony area, but we’d see nothing unless revealing ourselves as the only people up here.

The theatre contains more life than for years, if you call hemia ‘life’. As the bodies fill the seats, the eerie echoing from our footsteps as we explored earlier disappears. People occupy seats stretching between the doorway and stage. Fifteen? Twenty? Thankfully not a whole building full, but more than enough for my liking.

Some hemia must be recent human acquisitions and easier to beat, but others will have greater power. Are we enough against this number? I glance at Andrei. If the recruits present witnessed his abilities yesterday, they’d think twice.

If the recruits are capable of thinking for themselves.

There’s a palpable excitement amongst them all—kids eager to watch the newest show in town. I tuck trembling hands into my pockets as familiar faces from the catacombs sit amongst them.

But not the witches.

“Vamps only?” I say.

Andrei glances at me. “Looks like removing the witch influence from the Dominion aided Gabriella’s plans.”

“Then why did she recruit witches and not bring any here?”

Nobody responds to my question. Nobody needs to. Witches might be here. The ritual.

Did the witches we met yesterday escape in the skirmish that Andrei caused? I can’t stop replaying my time with the group—how Carter and his friend had given up, convinced they’ll meet the same end as the other witches. But what end? His words will not leave my head: I don’t remember agreeing.

Tobias urged me not to think about the witches’ situation, but he must be hesitant about killing indiscriminately if he’s already let two Dominion recruits go.

“What if one of the recruits recognises Andrei?” I whisper. “Or any of us?”

“They’re focused on the stage, not us. We stay quiet and hide,” says Tobias.

“If they recognise me, they might leave and save us time.” Andrei chuckles then sidles through the door. He creeps along the back of row of seats, pulls one down to sit in, then places feet crossed at the ankles on a seat in front.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“Waiting for the show.”

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