“The Seelie Queen never had a—a child?” Julian asked.
“She died without children,” said Livvy. “The Unseelie King has united both Courts and rules over everything there now. His heir is Prince Erec, or at least that’s what we last heard. Not a lot of news from Faerie gets out.”
So there was no second Ash in this world, Emma thought. Probably good, since one Ash seemed like more than enough.
“As for the werewolves, the packs are all scattered,” said Cameron. “You’ve got some lone wolves, some who’ve thrown their lot in with Sebastian, some are rebels with us, most were killed. Vampires are doing a bit better because demons don’t like to eat them as much—they’re already dead.”
“There are a few vampire cults that have joined up with Sebastian,” said Livvy. “They worship him and believe that when they eat everyone in Thule, he will lead them through to a world of more people with more blood.”
“Raphael Santiago says they’re idiots, and when all the people are gone, they’ll starve,” said Cameron.
“Raphael Santiago is still alive? In our world he’s dead,” said Julian.
“Well, there’s one point for Thule,” said Livvy with a crooked smile. “When we get to the building you’ll see—”
She broke off as a human came pelting out of an alley. A teenage boy, filthy and skinny to the point of starvation, hair hanging in matted clumps. His clothes were dirty, a ragged pack dangling from one arm.
Livvy tensed. “Unsworn human,” she said. “Demons can hunt them for sport. Cam—”
“Livvy, we shouldn’t,” Cameron said.
“Pull over!” Livvy snapped. Cameron slammed on the brakes, throwing them all forward; Julian was up and out of his seat, throwing his arm out to catch Livvy by the shoulder and prevent her from bumping her head.
She shot him a startled look. Then she was shaking him off and powering down her window, leaning out to shout to the boy. “Over here!”
The boy changed course and raced toward them. Behind him, something appeared at the mouth of the alley. Something that looked as if it were made of shadows and ragged black wings. It dived toward him at incredible speed and Livvy swore. “He’s not going to make it.”
“He might,” Cameron said. “Ten bucks.”
“What the hell?” Emma said. She reached for the handle of her door and shoved it open—Julian grabbed her by the sleeve of her tunic, yanking her back—and the ragged shadow was on the boy like a hawk on a mouse. He gave one terrified shriek as it seized him, and they both shot up into the air, disappearing into the ashy sky.
Cam hit the gas; a few passersby were staring at them. Emma was breathing hard. Mundanes weren’t supposed to be killed by demons. Shadowhunters were supposed to be able to help.
But there were no Shadowhunters here.
“You owe me four thousand dollars, Cam,” Livvy said tonelessly.
“Yeah,” said Cameron. “I’ll repay you as soon as the international banking system is reestablished.”
“What about our family?” Julian said abruptly. He let go of Emma’s sleeve; she’d almost forgotten he was holding on to her. “Are any of them here, Livia?”
Livvy’s mouth flattened into a tense line. “I’m still not convinced you’re Julian,” she said. “And my family is my business.”
They turned abruptly off the street, and for a moment Emma thought they were going to plow into the side of a familiar brown brick structure: the famous downtown Bradbury Building, surprisingly still standing. At what felt like the last minute, a sheet of bricks and sandstone rose up out of the way and they pulled into a cavernous dark space.
A garage. They piled out of the car, and Cameron went over to chat with a girl in camo pants and a black tank top who was turning a metal crank that slid the garage door closed. It was a massive slab of brick and metal operated by a cleverly jointed set of gears.
“We’re on our own generator here,” said Livvy. “And we do a lot of stuff by hand. We don’t need the Forsworn tracing us by our electricity usage.” She tossed her shotgun back into the car. “Come on.”
They followed her to a door that led into a spacious entryway. It was clear they were inside a large office building. The walls were brick and marble, the floor tiled, and above her she could see an intricate maze of catwalks, metal staircases, and the glint of old ironwork.
Livvy narrowed her eyes at both of them. “Okay,” she said slowly.
“Okay, what?” said Emma.
“You just passed through a corridor whose walls were packed with salt, gold, and cold iron,” Livvy said. “A crazy old millionaire built this place. He believed in ghosts and he stuffed the building with everything that’s meant to repel the supernatural. Some of it does still work.”
The door behind them banged. Cameron had returned. “Divya says Diana’s not back yet,” he said. “You want me to take these two upstairs to wait?”
“Yeah.” Livvy rubbed the back of her hand across her forehead tiredly. “They made it in here. Maybe they are harmless.”
“You mean maybe I’m really your brother,” said Julian.
Livvy’s back stiffened. “I didn’t say that.” She gestured at Cameron. “Take them to one of the newbie rooms. Make sure there are guards on the floor.”
Without another word, she turned and walked away, heading for one of the iron staircases. Julian exhaled sharply, staring after her. Emma couldn’t help it; her heart ached at his expression. He looked as if he were being crushed from the inside out. The image of him cradling his sister’s body as she bled out in the Council Hall rose like a nightmare behind her eyes.
She caught up with Livvy in the stairwell; Livvy turned to her, and the scars on her face cut at Emma again as if she could feel the pain of getting them. “Seriously?” Livvy said. “What do you want?”
“Come on, Livvy,” said Emma, and Livvy raised her eyebrows. “You know it’s really Julian. In your heart, you know. In the car he tried to protect you from bumping your head, just like he always has; he can’t help himself. Nobody could act that, or fake it.”
Livvy tensed. “You don’t understand. I can’t—”
“Take this.” Emma shoved her phone into Livvy’s hands. Livvy stared at it as if she’d never seen an iPhone before. Then she shook her head.
“You might be surprised to hear this, but we don’t really get much cell reception here,” she said.
“Cute,” said Emma. “I want you to look at the photos.” She jabbed at the phone with a shaking finger. “Pictures of the last five years. Look—here’s Dru.” She heard Livvy suck in her breath. “And Mark at the beach, and here’s Helen and Aline’s wedding. And Ty, last month—”
Livvy made a half-choked noise. “Ty is alive in your world?”
Emma froze. “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, of course he is.”
Livvy tightened her hand on the phone. She turned and fled up the stairs, her boots clanging against the iron framework. But not before Emma saw that her eyes were shining with tears.
18
HELL RISING
As Julian and Emma followed Cameron through the Bradbury lobby, they passed several other groups of Livvy’s rebels. That was what Julian was calling them in his mind, anyway. These were Livvy’s people; she was clearly important here. He felt proud of her at the same time that he felt a thousand other emotions tearing through him—joy, despair, horror, fear, grief, and love and hope. They battered at him like the sea at high tide.
And yearning, too. A yearning for Emma that felt like knives in his blood. When she spoke, he couldn’t stop staring at her mouth, the way her top lip curved like a perfectly made bow. Was this why he’d begged Magnus to turn his feelings for her off? He couldn’t remember if it had been like this before, or if now was worse. He was drowning.
“Look,” Emma whispered, touching his arm, and his skin burned where she touched him and, Stop, he told himself fiercely. Stop. “It’s Maia Roberts and Bat Velasquez.”
Th