The Black Tide (Outcast 3)
“Catherine is a witch,” Nuri said equably. “Only her power is the ability to call those who haunt this world.”
“And what dead....” He paused, and an odd sort of dread spread across his expression. “Are we talking déchet who died in the bunker?”
“Yes,” Nuri said.
“Is that not dangerous?”
“Yes,” I replied.
“Too damn dangerous,” Jonas said, glaring at me. “I will not allow—”
“You,” I said gently, but with a steel that came from too many years of having no control over my own actions, “have no say over what I can and can’t do. Not now, not ever. I’m done with all that.”
He scrubbed a hand across his eyes. I did not mean—
I know. I gently touched his arm, and then returned my gaze to Julius. “I’ve done it once before, when we went into the den that lives in the remnants of the old city’s sewage and storm water systems. It was the only reason we were able to get those children out.”
“Then do it.” Julius glanced at Jonas. “Galloway, I need you to lead engineering into the southern power station—”
“You cannot order me to do anything, sir—”
“Jonas,” Nuri said coldly. “This fight has moved beyond the grip of mere mortals—it belongs to those of us who are ultimately far more.”
“Meaning one woman and a handful of ghosts? That hardly seems fair odds against what comes.”
“It is not one woman, but two,” Nuri said. “It’s time I called to the earth to protect her people. Play your part, Jonas, and allow us to play ours.”
“Besides,” I added softly. “We only have to hold for as long as it takes to get the lights back online. The faster that is done, the greater our odds of survival.”
He didn’t say anything for several long seconds. He simply stared at Nuri before
switching his gaze to me. “Fine. But you survive, no matter what. Is that clear?”
I crossed my arms across my chest, although all I wanted to do was to grab him. Hold him. “I will.”
He nodded and glanced at Julius. “Is the team being assembled?”
“As we speak. This way.”
Julius nodded at Nuri and me, and walked away. Jonas followed, every step echoing with anger and frustration. I glanced at Nuri. “Will he be okay?”
“If he’s sensible,” she said. “But I’m not entirely sure he’s capable of that right now. How fast can you get me to the wall?”
I smiled, though it held little in the way of amusement. “Are you sure you’re ready to be transported as matter?”
“It’s not like I have any other choice,” she replied. “I’m not exactly built for speed, and the vampires are rising as we speak.”
Bear, I said, as I walked toward the dais. Can you go with Jonas? Keep him safe for me?
And me? Cat said, as Bear chased after Jonas.
I took a deep breath and released it slowly. I need you to go to Carleen and ask the ghosts to make sure no vampires get through their city. But be careful, Cat, please.
I will, she said simply, and raced away.
It made me feel altogether too alone. I walked up to Nuri and, once she’d slipped a long, thin backpack over one shoulder, wrapped my arms around her ample body and called to the shadows. Energy surged in response, tearing through me and into Nuri, breaking the two of us down to particles between one heartbeat and another. Feeling her in and around me—separate and yet not—was a very weird, and very different experience. And it was in that moment I realized Nuri was far more than a mere human capable of magic. She was the earth personified—she was the richness that gave life, and the quakes that could tear it apart. She held the strength of mountains and the gentleness of the gossamer grass that crawled across the highest peaks. She was human—and yet not. Because of the earth. Because of the power it imbued her with.
And for the first time since the lights had gone dark, I actually felt a sense of hope.