House of Earth and Blood (Crescent City #1) - Sarah J. Maas Page 0,282

city. A warning. Still Bryce and Ithan held the corner.

“Thirty seconds,” Declan said.

“Go,” Hunt urged. “Go, Bryce.”

She gutted a demon, whirling toward the shelter at last, Ithan moving with her. Good, she’d get inside, and could wait it out until the Asterian Guard arrived to wipe these fuckers away. Maybe they’d know how to seal the voids in the Gates.

The shelter door began closing.

“They’re too far,” Fury said quietly.

“They’ll make it,” Hunt ground out, even as he eyed the distance between the slowly closing door and the two figures racing for it, Bryce’s red hair a banner behind her.

Ithan stumbled, and Bryce grabbed his hand before he could go down. A nasty gash gleamed in Ithan’s side, blood soaking his T-shirt. How the male was even running—

The door was halfway closed. Losing inches every second.

A clawed, humanoid hand from inside wrapped around its edge. Multiple pairs.

And then a young, brown-haired wolf was there, her teeth gritted, her face lupine, roaring as she heaved against the inevitable. As every one of the wolves behind her grabbed the sliding door and tried to slow it.

“Fifteen seconds,” Declan whispered.

Bryce ran and ran and ran.

One by one, the wolves of Ithan’s pack lost their grip on the door. Until only that one young female was holding it back, a foot braced against the concrete wall, bellowing in defiance—

Ithan and Bryce charged for the shelter, the wolf’s focus solely on the shelter door.

Only three feet of space remained. Not enough room for both of them. Bryce’s stare shot to Ithan’s face. Sorrow filled her eyes. And determination.

“No,” Hunt breathed. Knowing exactly what she’d do.

Bryce dropped behind just a step. Just enough to draw upon her Fae strength to shove Ithan forward. To save Connor Holstrom’s brother.

Ithan twisted toward Bryce, eyes flaring with rage and despair and grief, hand outstretched, but too late.

The metal door shut with a boom that seemed to echo across the city.

That was echoed across the city, as every shelter door shut at last.

Her momentum was too great to slow. Bryce slammed into the metal door, grunting in pain.

She turned in place, face leached of color. Searching for options and coming up empty.

Hunt read it on her face, then. For the first time, Bryce had no idea what to do.

Every part of Bryce shook as she took cover in the slight alcove before the shelter, the sunset a vibrant wash of orange and ruby—like the final battle cry of the world before the oncoming night.

The demons had moved on, but more would be coming. Soon. As long as the Gates held those portals to Hel, they would never stop coming.

Someone—Ithan, probably—began pounding on the shelter door behind her. As if he’d claw his way through, open up a passage for her to get inside. She ignored the sound.

The Viper Queen’s warriors were flashes of metal and light far down the street, still fighting. Some had fallen, heaps of steaming armor and blood.

If she could make it to her apartment, it had enchantments enough to protect her and any others she could get inside. But it was twenty blocks away. It might as well have been twenty miles.

An idea flared, and she weighed it, considering. She could try. She had to try.

Bryce took a bracing breath. In her hand, Danika’s sword shook like a reed in the wind.

She could make it. Somehow, she’d find a way.

She leapt into the blood-slick streets, sword held ready to attack. She didn’t look back at the shelter behind her as she began to run, blind memory of the city grid sinking in to guide her on the fastest route. A snarl rumbled from around a corner, and Bryce barely brought up her sword in time to intercept the demon. She partially severed its neck, and was running again before it fully hit the ground. She had to keep moving. Had to get to the Old Square—

Dead shifters and the Viper Queen’s soldiers lay in the streets. Even more dead humans around them. Most in pieces.

Another demon barreled from the red sky—

She screamed as it knocked her back, slamming her into a car so hard the windows shattered. She had all of a second to wrench open the passenger-side door and climb in before it landed again. Attacked the car.

Bryce scrambled over the armrests and stick shift, fumbling for the driver’s-side door. She yanked on the handle and half fell into the street, the demon so distracted with shredding the tires on the opposite side that it didn’t