Nightfall (Devil's Night #4) - Penelope Douglas Page 0,239

left his mouth.

I watched him go for a moment, making sure he was dead, and then I swam hard, one arm after another as I shot through the surface and sucked in a lungful of air.

I coughed, every inch of my body aching as I caught my breath and looked up at Cold Point.

I closed my eyes. “I survived,” I panted, starting to laugh. “Holy shit.”

How the hell was I going to get back up there?

I swam hard for the rocks, trying to beat the wave coming in, and climbed up onto a boulder, pulling myself up with my weakened arms.

I fisted my hands and tensed every muscle, making sure I was in one piece.

Looking up at the cliff, I noticed dark figures and flashlights beaming down, but then I saw something trailing down the cliff wall toward me.

I hopped over the rocks, making my way to the edge, and spotted a rope with knots for climbing.

Where did they get that?

I didn’t wait, though. Glancing behind me and making sure Martin was still buried under the water, I started climbing, pinching each knot with my shoes and hands as I hiked myself up one rung after another.

Emmy.

Everything hurt, but nothing had ever felt better.

I smiled. It was over. God, it was over.

Nothing could stop me. Not my exhausted limbs or the cold or the bruises and cuts.

I won, and the first thing I was going to do with her when the weather warmed up was to take her out to sea on Pithom. I wanted to swim.

Reaching the top, Micah and Aydin pulled me over the edge and onto the ground, and I collapsed, trying to catch my breath.

The little girl from before—the one we caught here the other night—knelt beside me, smiling. I thought Lev had taken her out of here.

But I was glad she didn’t go, after all.

“Was that your rope?” I panted.

She nodded, and I noticed she had two different colored eyes. One blue, one brown. “There’s tons of caves down there that no one knows about. I explore sometimes.”

Jesus. Who was she, and where did she come from? But then again, I was fine not knowing. It might’ve seemed weird to some people, but nothing seemed weird to me anymore. I liked mystery. Bring it.

I looked around at all the faces, Kai, Michael, Misha, and their girls probably having left to take Alex to the hospital.

“Where’s Em?” I asked Damon.

He glanced around and shrugged.

I tensed. She was right next to me before I chased Martin. She wouldn’t have left. I shot to my feet and pushed through them, rushing back into the park again and scanning the area for her.

Aydin was here. His people were here. Martin and Evans were gone.

Who…

Everyone hurried after me as realization dawned.

“Taylor,” I said, looking to Micah and Rory. “Have you seen Taylor?”

I hadn’t seen him, but the kid said she saw someone with an injured hand arrive two nights ago.

He had her.

I ran for the parking lot, everyone following me, but as soon as I got there, I saw a small group of men clad in black standing there with a convoy of cars, and I stopped.

Who the fuck was this now?

One of the men, built like a wrestler with muscles bulging out of his black shirt, stepped forward. His shiny black hair gleamed in the moonlight, the scruff on his cheek well-manicured. “Mr. Grayson?” he asked.

I opened my mouth to speak, but Micah walked to my side and put a hand on my chest, stopping me.

“How did you find us?” he asked the guy.

The burly one just smiled, looking coy. “Like he ever not knows where you are, Mr. Moreau.”

Micah scoffed, looking away.

And then it hit me. Stalinz sent me back-up. These were mine.

“Where do you need us?” the guy asked.

I walked over and opened the door of his car, climbing in. “Follow us. When I wave you past, cut off the car I’m trailing.”

I started the engine, not wasting another moment. Damon, Micah, and Rory jumped in with me, and I sped off, out of the park, and turning left, toward Falcon’s Well and the shortcut to Evans Crist’s house. That was the only place I could think he’d go. If he wasn’t here tonight, then he didn’t know Evans had been caught.

I slammed the steering wheel with my fist. No one—and I mean, no one—was coming between us again.

Not ever again.

I pushed the pedal to the floor, hanging right as Damon grabbed the dash for support, and