me, his eyes as glittering and hard as our city’s night-soaked grid of lights. He bared teeth of chipped granite…and he charged.
I froze amidst the pile of crumbled plaster, knowing I’d never escape that wheeling vortex of limbs. He was a rocket, faster than anything I’d ever seen, and when a scream escaped that decaying mouth, the building shook, plaster and tiles fell from the ceiling, bulbs shattered in their sockets, and I ducked.
A wall of sheet silver appeared between us, too instantly for the Tulpa to avoid. The crash was like a car wreck, and I looked over to find Tekla with both arms outstretched. So we weren’t
entirely
powerless.
“Get Vanessa!” she yelled, flinging up wall after wall as the Tulpa, screaming now, continued to punch through them. I bolted. We were lucky; Vanessa’s opposite was Regan, now an outcast, and Tekla’s had been Zell, whom I’d helped kill last month. But the Cancerian Shadow, Drake, had heard Tekla’s cry, and was reaching for Vanessa along with me. Without thinking, I pulled out the Micro Uzi—the weapon I’d thought useless—and rolled off an ear-shattering round from arm’s distance away. No, mortal weapons wouldn’t kill him. But as evidenced by Vanessa—they were still effective. He jerked backward, spraying blood.
I didn’t waste time on Vanessa’s ropes. I just swung the Uzi to one side and picked up the entire chair with the other hand. It wasn’t heavy, just awkward, and with Tekla covering my back, thrusting up walls to cover my retreat, I ran. Outside, I vaulted over the ornamental wall, silently apologizing to Vanessa for the rough landing, but kept spraying bullets at anything that moved…or moved too fast. I was one of those things, of course—fleeing so fast that all the mortals would see was a blur—but fast and fast enough were two different things.
With our lives depending on it, I put on the speed. I needed to be the latter.
4
My phone rang in my pocket.
“Peppermill. Cab. Hurry.”
Warren. Without preamble. Or good-bye.
Carrying Vanessa as gingerly as possible, I headed to the Peppermill Lounge, formerly another safe zone. Gregor masqueraded in the mortal world as a cab driver and regularly parked behind the classic Vegas lounge. So I knew both he and Warren had made it there safely.
Fifteen minutes later, Hunter and Felix gingerly took Vanessa from my arms. Micah patted the space next to him in the cab, which meant there wasn’t a lot of it, and I clamored into the backseat, practically on his lap as I pulled the door shut behind me.
“We’ll have to circle because of all the blood,” Warren told Gregor, who took off in a screech of rubber and exhaust. Vanessa’s blood was already scenting the air.
Gregor nodded. “I’ll hit the beltway from the Strip. It circles the entire valley.”
“One pass,” Warren agreed. “Then we drop Micah, Hunter, and Vanessa at the warehouse.”
Located in industrial Vegas, the troop’s warehouse wasn’t a safe zone, but right now it was as safe as we were going to get. Hunter, our weapons master, crafted our conduits there, but more importantly, there was a panic room where Vanessa could hide.
“I’m going too,” Felix said in a tight voice. Warren drew in a breath, but only hesitated momentarily before nodding. Felix would be a wreck if he was trapped in the sanctuary, not knowing how Vanessa was doing. He was a wreck now, arms hanging helplessly, afraid to touch her anywhere. She groaned as we hit a speed bump.
“Where’s Tekla?” I asked as we flew up the on ramp.
No one answered.
“Where’s Tekla?” If she’d gone down while saving me…after Vanessa had endured
this
because of me…
“Calm the fuck down!” Warren yelled, half turning in his seat. “He’s following us!”
“I’m trying.” But the thought of the Tulpa tracking us had the opposite effect of calming me. Gregor glared at me through the rearview mirror.
“Jo!”
“Shut up!” I closed my