A massive poof of dark smoke exploded upward, and men shouted from within the blinding cloud.
“Thanks.” I darted out, using my superior senses to locate my targets.
I could hear them, smell them, sense them through the fog. I charged right, colliding with a Marsh Man. He reeked of seaweed. Strength surged through me, and I grabbed him by the collar and hurled him toward the building. He slammed into the brick and collapsed.
Behind me, Ms. Cross sprinted down the street, headed straight for a man who stood between us and the streetcar. As she neared him, she ducked low, swiping at his legs with her blade. He reached for her, but she was faster, her blade whirling with wicked grace. The knife sliced through his thighs. He screamed and toppled backward.
I heard a noise from my right and spun around. A man surged out of the darkness, his eyes gleaming red. He held up a hand that flickered with flame.
“I was hoping for a challenge,” I said as he hurled the fire at me.
I took the hit, absorbing the magic as I always did with flame. He frowned and stumbled back, and I charged. My unnatural speed was impossible to avoid. There was no time to play with my prey, so I simply knocked him to the ground.
To my left, two goons tried to hit Carrow with blasts of water. She dodged the missiles and took them out with her potion bombs. In the distance, Ms. Cross raced toward another Marsh Man.
There were more than I could count, but they were easy to find with my heightened vampire senses. The goons fought back with jets of water, swift and icy.
An icicle hit me on the side of the arm, leaving a deep gash. Dark blood seeped from the wound. But as the fog faded, I looked around to find that the three of us were alone.
“I think we’re clear,” Carrow said. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Look.” Ms. Cross pointed farther down the dock.
A horde of Marsh Men raced toward us—twenty, at least.
My blood was up. Though I welcomed a second fight, I had to think of Carrow.
I couldn't risk it.
“Run,” I said.
“Not without you.” Carrow glared at me.
“Fine.” I sprinted away from the Marsh Men, toward the streetcar.
They roared and ran faster, and I placed myself between Carrow and our pursuers. The three of us raced toward the streetcar. Idling at the end of the row of warehouses, it beckoned.
The horde pounded after us, their footsteps loud against the wood. I looked back as several of them raised their hands. Two of them shot jets of water at us, liquid projectiles that could pierce us through.
“Dodge,” I shouted.
We dove out of the way as the wave crashed to the ground behind us, then lunged up and sprinted faster. Four more Marsh Men fired water at us, but we dodged their blasts every time.
As we neared the streetcar, I looked back again. A small jet of water was shooting toward Carrow. I lunged between her and the projectile.
It slammed into my shoulder. Agony flared, and I grunted and stumbled, blood welling from the wound. I snatched a dagger from the ether and hurled it at the Marsh Man who’d attacked me.
The blade spun through the air and pierced him in the throat. The others roared with rage, but I heard only Carrow’s voice:
“Grey! Come on!”
I spun and raced after them. They’d jumped onto the streetcar, and I followed, climbing on board. I turned, ready to resume the attack, but the Marsh Men had stopped and glared at us with green eyes.
“They can’t get us while we’re in here.” Ms. Cross turned to the driver, an older woman with a wild halo of white hair. “Will this take us to the Circuit?”
“That’s right, dearie. This is the express. Only four stops.”
Ms. Cross nodded and slumped onto the padded seat.