Page 41 of Just Dare Me
I close my eyes. “Ray? Is he…”
“No. We’re working on him. But he won’t be talking anytime soon. And Randy’s…shook up, to put it mildly. Hasn’t said a word since.”
I shake my head. “They’re both alive, but nobody shifted? Did you shoot him? You shot Nash?”
“I told you, no time for that. He was here, and then he wasn’t. I saw the whole thing, the first one to come running, but by the time I got to Ray, it was already over.”
“That can’t be right, Nolan. He had the jump on you. He could have done worse. Way worse!”
“We’re not complaining.”
“But it means they wanted something else.” I check the skies again. “They sent a message to the Agency. They wanted me to know.”
Nolan curses under his breath. “So you’d come straight here. You need to leave.”
“But they would’ve seen me coming a mile back. Where are they?”
“Don’t wait around to find out. If they come in full force, we’re not enough to protect you.”
“I’m not leaving, Nolan. This time—maybe this once—Ican be the one protectingyou. I’m calling for backup.”
Just as I pull my phone, there’s a distant gunshot from Newport Woods. Peering up into the sky, I see a green flare arcing high over the trees, and with it comes a sickening realization:East Side knows. They’ve figured out that wherever I go, Jay is not far behind.
There’s no more thinking now. Only running—full speed, no holding back, caution be damned. Dodging trees, ducking branches, vaulting logs, clambering up slopes and sliding down hills. I know these woods as well as I know the inside of my Pontiac Crap-pile. I know where to hide, how to disappear. If I can just get to Jay before they do, we’ll have a chance.
There! Up ahead, a dark SUV parked in a clearing. Jay knows that spot. We parked there when I snuck into these woods to watch Little Bunica’s final shift. And there’s Jay, taking cover behind the SUV as automatic gunfire fills the clearing, riddling the vehicle with bullets. Three Windsor vampires shield Jay with their bodies, despite his protests. He wants to return fire—his gun in hand—but they keep pushing him down.
Suddenly, they change their minds, hauling Jay to his feet and shoving him toward the woods as a loud whistle pierces the air. A stream of smoke follows the trajectory of a rocket-propelled grenade. It strikes the SUV with an explosion that flips it onto its side. The shaking ground buckles my knees, throwing me to the ground. Through leaves stuck in my hair, I watch Jay sprint for the woods while the enormous silverback wolf bounds across the clearing after him.
I will Jay to go faster. He’s headed straight for me, closing the distance. The Windsor vamps, recovering from the blast, throw themselves into Nash’s path, slashing at him with knives. Those beautiful, bloodsucking bastards.
Their distraction is all Jay needs to escape. After weaving through the first handful of trees, he spots me. I jump to my feet with a burst of elation.We’ll make it!
That’s when I hear quick footsteps. I’m just about to shout at Jay to watch out when an East Side junkie appears out of nowhere and tackles him. Another guy—a sorcerer—blinks into existence, and with a flourish of his hand, Jay’s neck is wrapped with magic rope that tightens and jerks upward, lifting him off his feet.
Neat trick. I’ve got one of my own—now you see me, now you don’t—and with a flourish of my hand, I shoot them both in the face. The rope disappears, dropping Jay on top of their bodies. As he sputters and coughs, I drag him into thick brush that scrapes at our skin and tugs at our clothes. After pushing in deep, where it’s dark and quiet, I pull Jay to the ground and crouch over him protectively while I strain to listen.
The woods have gone silent. The fight’s over, and if I had to bet, my money’s on Nash being the winner. He’ll have no problem following my scent, but he can’t get to us without battling this thick brush, which will slow him down just enough for me to blast him. It’s a great plan. Foolproof. In fact, Iwantthis hairy son-of-a-bitch to try it, see what happens.
I feel my dominance surge, and it’s only with great effort that I keep from growling in satisfaction. Nash is bigger and stronger, but I’m smarter and have home-field advantage. I’ve got him beat.
Until I don’t.
Two figures come running into view. I can only see bits and pieces of them through the brush. One is a woman in a black hoodie, her back to me. The other is a very tall, very slender man in a ratty tank top. He’s bald, with various demon sigils tattooed all over his head, and he wears those round black-out goggles that welders need to protect their eyes from bright light. When I spot a black stripe running down his chin and throat, I realize who the woman in the hoodie is. If I could see her face, she would have shiny scars all down her chin and neck.
“They’re close,” she says. “Close enough.” From her hoodie pocket she pulls a black bandana folded in a neat square, its East Side sigil displayed clearly. She unwraps the bandana, revealing a shiny gold object with four loops, like thick rings connected in a row. I know exactly what they are: brass knuckles.
She slips her fingers through the rings. The weapon is much too big for her little hand. She couldn’t possibly wield it with any effectiveness.
Raising the brass knuckles above her head, she chants a string of words in Latin. The woods seem to darken, as though storm clouds have suddenly rolled in. The sound of wind in the leaves grows dull, then goes silent. I can hear my own heart beating. Jay holds his breath.
Abruptly, the slender man’s head snaps in our direction, his round goggles finding me. Taking his cue, the woman spins around and pushes back her hood. Tabitha Durran looks right at me, as if the thick brush between us were invisible. She smiles, her bottom lip twisted by scars, and coos, “There, now that’s the spirit.”
When Jay flinches with surprise as he gapes over my shoulder, I realize that Tabitha and Slender Man aren’t staring at me—they’re staring at what’s behind me. Turning my head, I stare up at the horrific figure of Arael Moaz in his demon form. He’s giant, towering over me even though he’s crouching down, his chin resting on one knee. His hairless pink skin is pulled tight against muscle and bone, showing every detail of his insides as clearly as if they were outsides. Below black, beady eyes is a wide smile lined with pointy teeth like a shark.
His eyes are fixed with greedy desire on the brass knuckles. Slowly, he extends his legs to stand at full height—ten feet, I’d guess—rising well above the tangle of brush, but without disturbing it. The leaves and branches pass straight through him.
Tabitha and Slender Man are awestruck, their mouths hanging open. After taking a step back and waving the brass knuckles, Tabitha recites more Latin. It’s like she’s calling to a dog with a bone. Arael responds, taking a large step toward her. His leg passes right through me.
