City of Light (Outcast 1)

The vampires lunged at me from all sides. I screamed and thrust backward—straight into the fierce energy of the false rift. It sucked me in, then ripped me apart, and I hung in the darkness for I don’t know how long, silently screaming, unable to do anything else. Then, with agonizing slowness, my particles were reassembled and, with little finesse and a whole lot of force, I was ejected.

I didn’t even stumble. I just fell flat on my face and, for who knows how long, I stayed there.

After a while, I somehow found enough energy to roll onto my back. All I could smell was my blood, and it felt as if every bit of me had been beaten and bruised. Even my soul ached.

I took a deep, shuddering breath that did little more than fling a dozen fresh arrows of pain across my torso. I ignored them, closed my eyes, and reached for the healing. It took a while, but eventually, calm descended and my body began to repair itself. Unfortunately, the healing state didn’t last anywhere near long enough. While I could heal just about any wound short of limb, head, or heart removal, the depth of the repairs depended on my strength. I’d pushed myself hard today, and all with little more than bitter coffee in my belly. It wasn’t enough.

But at least blood no longer poured from the multitude of slashes caused by both the vampires and the false rift. It was better than nothing, I supposed.

I rolled onto my hands and knees, then slowly pushed upright and stared at the wall of darkness that stood between me and getting home. The thought of going through it again churned my stomach, but there was no other option. Not if I wanted to get out of this place—and I did. Desperately.

I forced my feet forward. The darkness soon enveloped me, its thick strands resisting every step forward but not as fiercely as it had on the way down. Nor did it tear at my flesh as it snapped away—which was good, because I doubted I had a whole lot of unmarred skin left.

I came out of it so suddenly I stumbled and fell on my hands and knees. Energy whipped around me, filled with concern, and it took me a moment to realize it was Bear and Cat. Then the little bit of strength I had left fled, and I fell into unconsciousness.

• • •

I woke to shadows and noise. There was warmth around me and comfort underneath me rather than the chill of the weather and the cold bite of ground. The air smelled murky and was thick with so many scents it was hard to pick one from the other. Obviously, I was no longer in Carleen.

I frowned and opened my eyes. The room in which I lay was small and neat, with little more than the bed, a side cabinet, a somewhat grimy mirror, and a washbasin beside which rested two small but clean-smelling blue towels.

Cat and Bear whisked in from wherever they’d been, the force of their excitement making me smile even as their energy seeped into my skin, allowing me to share their adventures and explorations. Images flowed through me, around me, in dizzying succession, filling me in on all that had happened even if in a somewhat confused manner. We were not only back in Chaos, but also at Nuri’s. Jonas, from what I could gather, had carried me here—over his shoulder, like a bloodied sack of potatoes. He was in the room next to mine, stripping off clothes stiff with my blood—which suggested we had not been here very long at all.

And Jonas? I asked them. What did he do while I was away?

More images flooded my mind. Jonas had retreated as far as the park, but once the rift had passed, had come back to the rim of the crater to wait. Nuri had joined him a few hours later, and while she’d prowled around the edges of the crater, she hadn’t entered it. The Carleen ghosts, Cat noted, had been wary of her.

I frowned again. Why are ghosts afraid of her?

Their uncertainty filled me, then Bear’s energy touched mine more deeply and he said, It is the darkness, as much as her power, that they fear.

I guess I could understand their fearing her power, because witches traditionally had control over the dead and she could, if she so chose, banish or destroy them.

Before I could question them further, the door opened and Nuri ducked into the room. “Ah, you’re awake,” she said, not sounding the least bit surprised. She held a large jug in one hand and clothes in the other. The room was almost too small for someone her size, though it wasn’t so much her weight but rather the sheer amount of power radiating from her. It overwhelmed this tiny space. Was it any wonder the Carleen ghosts feared her? They surely wouldn’t have come across many like her, even when they’d been alive.

“I’m afraid your clothes were a little beyond repair,” Nuri continued, “so you’ll have to make do with this tunic. Your weapons are in the shoulder bag at the base of the bed. Once you’re washed and dressed, come downstairs and join us. We’ve fresh bread and stew ready, if you’re up to eating.”

“How long have I been h

ere?” I said as she poured the hot water into the small basin.

She glanced at me, brown eyes shrewd. “Worried about that date you have this evening, are you?”

Jonas obviously didn’t feel the need to be restrained in any of the information he passed on. I raised an eyebrow. “And what business of yours is it if I was?”

She smiled, though there was very little humor in it. “No business of mine at all, though I cannot help but be curious as to what is so important about that date you would rush off so soon after near death.”

Near death? I’d been depleted and bloody, for sure, but I doubted I’d been anywhere near death—though, given what Cat and Bear had showed me, I’d certainly looked it.

“Perhaps I merely desire the company of the man I’m intending to meet.” I paused. “How long was I out?”

“Not long enough by half.” She finished pouring the water, then turned to face me. All sorts of speculation was evident in her sharp gaze. “Come downstairs and tell us what you found. You owe us that much, at least.”

I owed them nothing, and we both knew it—especially after their initial attack on me. But this mystery was already far bigger than I could handle. I needed help, and Nuri and her shifters were the logical choice—even if a dangerous one, given their undenied government links.

“Fine,” I said. “I’ll be down in ten minutes.”

She nodded and left, closing the door behind her. I listened to her retreating steps, then flicked the blanket off and rose. Muscles twinged, but there was little in the way of true pain. Most of the lash marks had disappeared, but there was a cut on the inside of my left wrist that was raised and angry-looking. It was, I suspected, where the vampire had slashed through my particles, spinning some of them away. And maybe that meant it wouldn’t—couldn’t—heal any more than it already had. Dried blood stained most of my body, as well as matting my hair, if the itchy state of my scalp was anything to go by.