Blackbird Broken (The Witch King's Crown #2) - Keri Arthur Page 0,67

halfway across when, with a noise that almost sounded like the groan of a dying beast, part of the rear wall gave way and tumbled to the ground, taking the rope—and Luc—with it.

“No!” I darted back to the railing and peered over, trying to see through the thick dust and rubble. “Luc? Answer me!”

For several gut-wrenching seconds, there was no reply. Then, in a voice hoarse with pain, he said, “Here. Two flights down.”

It was only then that I noticed the rope was taut rather than slack. The collapsing building might have taken it down, but Luc had somehow hung on. I bolted down the stairs, the clatter of my steps lost to the groans of the still-dying building.

In one of the still-functioning, calmer back sections of my brain, I fervently hoped the building was the only thing that was …

By the time I got to Luc, he was already climbing over the railing. I threw myself at him and just clung on for several seconds. His arms went around me, and his lips brushed the top of my head.

“I’ll no doubt have a pretty array of bruises come tomorrow,” he said softly, “but I’m okay. And so are your knives.”

“Good.” It was telling that I hadn’t even thought of the daggers. I pulled back as Ricker joined us and added, “They’d have to be fairly close to be causing this sort of defined damage.”

“I hardly think it’s defined,” Ricker growled. “They’re bringing the whole fucking place down.”

“But not the ones on either side.” Which was odd, really, because surely it would have taken less effort to just collapse them all.

Unless, of course, Max didn’t want too many innocents caught in the destruction—which was a bit of a laugh considering the mess Darkside would make of everyone if and when he managed to open the main gate.

“They can’t be on the street—this sort of magic takes time, and it’d be too obvious,” Luc said. “They have to be underground—in the sewers.”

“There’s a manhole not far from here,” Ricker said. “Let’s go.”

We scrambled down the remaining stairs, darted through the dust and debris still crashing down, somehow avoiding getting crushed in the process, then clambered over the fence dividing us from the next property. Ricker crashed through the rear door of a building two down from the Blackbirds’ and led the way through the maze of back rooms into the main café area. Though the place was empty, meals and coffee lay abandoned on a number of tables, and multiple chairs had been tipped over, suggesting everyone had left in a hurry. Dust fell freely from the ceiling, and the alarm was strident and ear-piercing. It wasn’t alone though—multiple alarms were going off up and down the street.

Ricker flung open the front door, paused briefly on the sidewalk, and then ran left, bellowing at everyone milling on the pavement to get out of his way. Most did—those who didn’t were brutally shoved aside. Luc and I followed, though I struggled to keep up with the two of them.

We went left around the next corner. Halfway down the street was one of those plastic yellow triangle barriers surrounding an open manhole cover.

Ricker came to such an abrupt halt that Luc had to jump sideways to avoid crashing into him. Thankfully, I was far enough back to slow down normally.

“Surely they wouldn’t be so—”

I cut the rest off as Ricker held up a hand. “Listen.”

For several heartbeats I couldn’t hear anything beyond the wail of the approaching emergency vehicles, the rumble of nearby traffic, and the screams of the frightened and confused.

I tuned it all out the best I could and eventually heard it—the soft echo of footsteps on metal. Someone was climbing up the sewer’s ladder.

“They’ll have to have transport waiting,” Ricker said softly, looking around. “They can’t walk through the streets stinking of sewage—it’d attract too much attention.”

Luc handed me Nex and Vita. “Ricker and I will handle the sewer rats. You head across the road and take out the car when it arrives.”

I waited for a gap in the traffic, and then darted across. Parked cars lined this side of the road, so I tucked in behind the largest—a Land Rover—and lightly gripped Nex’s hilt. A soft pulsing immediately started deep in her metal heart, and energy briefly caressed my fingers. She was ready—eager—for action. The gods had definitely given her a bloodthirsty edge.

There was no sign of the two men on the other side of the road; they were