City of Light (Outcast 1)

We reached the South Siding exit. The day was, as I’d sensed, crisp and cool, and overhead thunder rumbled ominously.

“Sounds like rain isn’t very far off.” His gaze swept the rubbish and ash-strewn dirt beyond the grate. “You might want to grab yourself a coat.”

I might, but it involved going back to the restricted floors, and that still wasn’t going to happen when he was near. “With the look of those skies, any coat I have will be next to useless inside of five minutes.”

I opened the grate, then reset the lock code. I had no idea how the vampires got the grate open last night—or why they even needed to, given all they had to do was shadow to get in—but it wasn’t going to happen again if I could help it. Once Jonas was out, I hit the lock switch, ensured the grate did come down, then guided the ranger around to the left, away from the rail yards.

“Why are we taking the long way around?” he asked as we walked up the hill to the back of the museum buildings.

“Because it’s a good way of avoiding the guards and any chance of being questioned.” I glanced at him. His skin was a warm, sun-kissed gold, even in the cool light of a storm-clad day. “I don’t know about you, but I generally prefer to avoid the interest of officialdom.”

“A point I totally agree with, so lead on.”

We made good time around the museum and across the park, and in little more than an hour were approaching our goal. Rain splattered down, big fat drops that sizzled as they hit the broken road surface that divided this part of Carleen from the park. The battered curtain wall opposite us was covered in moss and vines, and there was nothing unusual to be seen—nothing other than the pressing darkness that was now forever a part of this place. And yet . . . energy crawled across my skin. An unnatural energy.

“There’s a rift near here.” Jonas’s voice was heavy as he gazed thoughtfully to the left. “It’s on the move.”

I frowned. “How do you know that?”

His gaze came to mine and, just for an instant, the darkness I’d seen glimmering in both Penny’s and Nuri’s eyes shone in his. “I’m sensitive to them. It moves toward us, so if this false rift of yours is near here, we had better investigate it quickly.”

I hesitated, my gaze scanning the wall again, wondering if the energy I felt was the approaching rift, the false one, or something else altogether. I couldn’t tell, and that worried me.

At least I still had my guns and knives—not that they’d do much good against the force of either rift.

“Tiger?” Jonas prompted. “We need to move. Now.”

I forced reluctant feet forward. The rain hit my body, slithering down my neck and plastering the thin shirt to my body, but it wasn’t the cause of the chill that was growing in the pit of my stomach. The closer I got to the false rift, the more that chill grew. My two little ghosts crowded close, their energy bright sparks that shivered and danced across my skin.

I leapt onto the broken wall and paused to get my bearings. We were farther north than where I’d entered yesterday, but, after a moment, I saw the gnarled giant tree covered in moss and swept my gaze left. The hill wasn’t too far away . . . neither was that crater, and its heavy darkness.

I jumped down and led the way through the tangled mess of destruction and regrowth. But the farther we got up that hill, the more the darkness stung my skin, until it felt as if my whole body burned with its presence. Something was different. Something had happened between yesterday and today. I looked around, suddenly aware of the ghosts who watched, and stopped.

“Is there a problem?” Jonas asked immediately, one hand on his weapon.

“That’s what I’m about to find out. Keep an eye on that rift.” I found somewhere safe to perch, then held out a hand, palm up. “Cat?”

She settled on my hand, then seeped down into my body. The creep of death immediately began to assault my limbs, faster and sharper than before. Doing this two days in a row was dangerous, but it wasn’t like I had many other choices. The tall ghost I’d spoken to yesterday stepped forward.

“The gray creature was here last night,” he said. “He moved one of the rifts.”

“The real ones, or the false ones?”

“False. The one that was in the crater you went down yesterday now stains our resting place.”

Why would he move a rift? Was it a result of my using it yesterday, or the subsequent destruction of the security panel? Either way, it just might mean they would be keeping a closer eye on their devices. “Is this the first time they’ve moved the rifts?”

“Since they made them, yes.”

“‘They’?” I frowned. “There’s more than one?”

“There are three,” he replied, anger in his expression. “Two men, one woman. You must stop them. That rift cannot be allowed to remain where it is. It stains our bones and ashes with its malevolence.”

“I’ll do what I can.” I paused. “Can you give me a description? Were they all wraiths?”

“Wraiths?” he said, frowning.

“The gray beings with few features.”