Dark Secrets - Linsey Hall Page 0,29

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.

The streetcar rumbled to life. Panting, I looked back at our enemies. They watched with impotent rage as the cables carried us away.

“Grey, your shoulder.” Worry echoed in Carrow’s voice as she moved to stand before me.

“It’s fine.” But it wasn’t, not really. My shoulder hurt, and it should have been healing by then. Had the jet of water been laced with lethal magic? I wondered. It hadn’t glowed oddly.

Ms. Cross moved to join us. “That’s an ugly wound.”

“Do they imbue their projectiles with anything?” I asked.

“No, it’s just super-fast water.”

Carrow tugged off her jacket and flipped it inside out. “I’m going to put pressure on it.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’ve had worse.”

“I don’t care.” Gently, she pressed her jacket to the hole in my shoulder.

I sucked in air through my teeth but said nothing.

“We’ll be out of The Dens soon,” Ms. Cross said. “Then you can transport out of here. Or the streetcar can take you to a portal.”

“How far is the portal?”

“The one in the Circuit is only a few minutes away,” the driver said.

“We’ll go there, thanks.” Better to save the transport charm.

“Be there in five.” The driver nodded. “Fast service here.”

10

Carrow

As the streetcar careened through the city, I stared at Grey, worry seeming to drown me. He looked paler than usual. Weaker.

And yet, the wound wasn’t that big. I’d seen him take far worse hits.

There was something different about this wound. He seemed almost…human now. Like he could die.

What if I lost him?

Fear pierced me, cold and terrible. I’d tried not to fall for him. I’d tried.

But I’d failed.

I swallowed hard. “You really don’t