Page 143 of Kingdom of Chaos
He glances back at me with a look I’ve never seen on the strong, unflinching human before. It’s not fear exactly, but it’s close. “I do, but she’ll be hard to locate in this bedlam. I’m not sure I’ll be able to get to her in time. He’s . . .” His gaze flicks down to Titus, and rather than finish his sentence, he shakes his head once, a grim finality in the motion.
I know what he’s trying to say. That Titus’ wounds are bad enough to be fatal. But I’m not ready to give up, and I won’t let him give up either.
“Find her,” I say, my voice sharp with command.
Kade draws a breath through his nose, then nods. As he turns to leave, I grab his shoulder. “Hurry.”
“I will,” he promises, and then he’s gone.
I drop to the ground beside Titus, my hands hovering over his battered body because I’m terrified to touch him.
“We’re sending for help. You’re going to be okay,” I try to assure him, though the words feel thin in the air.
His jaw works as if he’s trying to form words, but they’re too quiet to hear over the madness swirling around us. I lean in closer, and suddenly he grips my arm with a surprising strength, his fingers digging in like iron clamps.
“Leave me,” he rasps, voice hoarse but urgent. “Save her.”
I shake my head, heart racing. “We’re not?—”
“Now,” he says, his grip tightening for emphasis. His eyes burn into mine, fierce and unrelenting.
I look up at the others—Imogen, Talon, and Becks—my pulse thundering in my ears, unsure what to do.
“I’ll stay with him,” Becks says, stepping forward with a look of fierce determination that makes my chest ache. It’s not what I expected. He should be the first to charge in after his sister, but he’s steady, calm. “Without my powers, I’m not much defense against those creatures, but I can do what I can for Titus until Kade gets back.”
Reaching behind him, he pulls a gun from a holster I didn’t realize he had under his shirt. He checks it with practiced hands, the cold click of metal echoing between us. I’m not sure how I feel about that.
“Go,” he says firmly, his expression hard as steel.
I stand, my heart twisting, and before we leave, Becks catches my arm.
“Locklyn.” His voice is low and tight, like he’s forcing the words out before they slip away. “You’ve got this. Just promise me you’ll get her back . . . and that you’ll come back too.” His gaze lingers, fierce and tender, refusing to let me go until I tell him I will.
“I swear to do everything I can to get her back,” I say, knowing it’s the only promise I can make right now.
He clears his throat, urgency snapping back into his tone as he nods toward the zoo. “They’re holding her in the reptile house, last I saw. Titus was the only thing keeping them from dragging her deeper inside. There were at least four of them, big ones. Be careful.”
I nod, pulse roaring in my ears, and turn to Talon and Imogen. No more hesitation. We have to move.
“This way,” Imogen says, darting off.
She leads us toward what was once a security gate but now is a mangled heap of twisted metal, and without pause we enter the zoo.
Animal cries echo through the dark, making it nearly impossible to hear anything else. The noise and darkness are disorienting, but a map near the entrance helps guide us. We follow it, moving fast, heading straight for the reptile house.
My stomach tightens when we round a corner and spot a large yellow sign: Reptile House. The air feels heavier here, charged with magic. And danger.
We slip into the reptile house, the door creaking shut behind us. The noise from outside mutes like a switch has been flipped. The animal cries, the distant sounds of battle, all of it dims to a strange, muffled hum, as if the building itself is holding its breath.
The air is thick and humid, heavy with the scent of damp stone and reptile musk. Every step echoes too loudly in the eerie quiet, and the low hum of the overhead lights buzzes like static.
We round a corner and I freeze.
There, at the far end of the room, above a massive open tank exhibit, is Ensley.
She hangs suspended in midair, held aloft by dark tendrils of shadow that weave and twist around her like serpents. The way they coil over her arms, her legs, her throat, it’s like watching a nest of snakes writhe over her skin. My stomach lurches, bile rising in my throat.
Her head lolls to the side, hair draping down like a golden curtain, her arms hanging limp. Beneath her, the glassy surface of the water ripples, disturbed by the slow, sinuous movement of a massive snake.
