the officers—at everyone in the tavern, even the frightened patrons who had pushed themselves against the back wall. Cinder’s head buzzed with the return of strength and control and power. “You want to let us go.”
The female officer dropped her arms to her sides. “We want to let you—”
A guttural cry ricocheted across the tavern. Beyond the officer, the man with the blue eyes moved to stand, but then collapsed over his table. The table legs snapped from the weight and he crashed to the floor. The other customers pulled away from him, everyone’s attention diverted. Cinder glanced at Thorne, who was watching the spectacle with his hands locked behind his back.
The stranger snarled. He was crouching down on all fours, saliva dripping from his mouth. Beneath dark eyebrows, his eyes had taken on an eerie luminescence and a crazed, bloodthirsty expression that twisted Cinder’s stomach. He curled his fingers, pulling his nails across the hard floor, and peered up at the terrified faces surrounding him.
A growl rolled up from his throat and his lips curled, revealing teeth that came to a fine point, more canine than human.
Cinder pressed herself against the bench, sure her momentary meltdown had fried something, that her optobionics were sending crossed messages to her brain. But her vision didn’t clear.
In unison, the military officers rounded their guns on the man, but he showed no concern. He seemed pleased at the horrified cries, the way the crowd surged away from him.
He lunged for the nearest officer before he could pull the trigger. His hands wrapped around the officer’s head—a loud snap and the officer fell lifeless to the ground. It happened so fast, every movement a blur.
Screaming filled the tavern. There was a stampede for the door, customers struggling over the crashed tables and chairs.
Ignoring the crowd, the man smirked at Cinder. She stumbled back into the booth, trembling.
“Hello, little girl,” he said, his voice too human-like, too restrained. “I believe my queen has been looking for you.”
He leaped for her. Cinder pulled back, unable to scream.
The female officer jumped between them, facing Cinder, her arms spread out wide in protection. Her face completely, entirely blank. Her lifeless eyes peered down at Cinder, even as the man howled with rage and grabbed her from behind. He wrapped one arm around her head, yanking her back and sinking his fangs into her throat.
She didn’t scream. Didn’t fight.
A bloodied gurgle erupted from her mouth.
A gun fired.
The crazed man roared and picked up the officer, swinging her around like a dog would a toy and tossing her halfway across the tavern. She crumpled to the ground as another shot rang out, catching the man in the shoulder. Bellowing, he whipped forward, snatching the gun away from the remaining officer with one hand. He swiped with the other, his fingers curled into a claw that left four red gashes on the officer’s face.
Heart hammering, Cinder gaped down at the woman as the life drained out of her eyes. Her gasps stuck in her throat. Her heart was pounding so hard it was sure to break out of her chest. White spots specked her vision. She couldn’t breathe.
“Cinder!”
She searched the room, dazed, and found Thorne scrambling out from behind a toppled table with his hands still latched behind his back. He collapsed to his knees beside the bench.
“Come on, the cuffs!”
Her lungs burned. Her eyes stung. She was hyperventilating.
“I—I killed her—” she stammered.
“What?”
“I killed—she was—”
“This is not the time to go crazy, Cinder!”
“You don’t understand. It was me. I—”
Thorne threw himself at her, his forehead hitting hers so hard she yelped and fell back onto the bench.
“Pull yourself together and help me unlock these things!”
She grabbed on to the table and hauled herself back up. Head aching, she blinked at Thorne, then at the officer who lay slumped against the wall, neck dangling at an odd angle.
Her brain struggling to grasp on to reality, she lurched forward, dragging Thorne with her through the toppled chairs. Crouching beside the first fallen officer, she grabbed his arm and held up his wrist. Thorne twisted his hands toward her and the cuffs blinked and fell open.
Cinder dropped the limp hand and stood. She bolted for the door—but something grabbed her ponytail and hauled her backward. She cried out, falling onto a table. Glass bottles shattered beneath her, water and alcohol soaking into the back of her shirt.
The crazed man hovered over her, leering. Blood was dripping out from his lips and his bullet wounds