was in its path. It was triggered by a death, by blood, but it didn’t seem to differentiate between the living and the dead. If you were in its path, then you were in serious trouble.
It was torture to think that Carly was in there somewhere—still alive. And I had no idea how to get her back out again.
The gray was closest. With fingerlike tendrils of living, breathing darkness, the Hollow reached out like a horrible hand and pulled him into the vortex. I swear, it was bigger this time, and stronger, as if all of the supernaturals it had taken had made it gain a few pounds. It shifted as if scanning the area, stopping on me for a brief moment. I swear, the Hollow looked at me. Right at me.
“Carly!” I screamed. “Carly! Where are you?”
Maybe if she could hear me. Maybe...
The horrific swirling gateway began to inch closer to me...nearer and nearer...
But then Bishop grabbed hold of me and tried to drag me back, his teeth clenched with pain from his massive shoulder injury. It was enough to snap me out of my daze. I held on to him tightly. The Hollow wouldn’t hesitate to grab me. It had tried before, and I had the strangest feeling that it was annoyed that it hadn’t succeeded.
“We’ll find Carly,” he shouted, barely loud enough for me to hear him over the roar of the Hollow. “But it won’t be tonight. I’m not losing you like this.”
To my right, I saw a horrific sight. Cassandra’s unconscious body was sliding across the pavement toward the vortex that had moved away from me. It reached for her, black smoky fingers curling around her ankles.
But then seemingly out of nowhere, Roth launched himself through the air, tackling Cassandra, and rolling them both out of range.
With no one left in its sights, the Hollow began to swirl smaller and smaller until it finally, thankfully, disappeared completely. The thunderous sound—like being in the middle of a tornado—vanished like somebody had pressed the off button on a gigantic stereo.
I still clung to Bishop. He pulled back from me, checking my face, my arms, making sure that I wasn’t hurt. His brows were drawn tightly together and his left arm hung slackly at his side.
“Are you okay?” he demanded.
I fought to breathe normally, but I nodded. “Bishop, your shoulder...”
“It’s nothing.”
“It’s shattered.”
“I’ll live. But you...” His gaze moved over my face, his brows tight together. “You’re not seriously hurt.”
“No. But Cassandra is.”
He swore under his breath. Then, with a last searching look, he pushed up off the ground and went to Cassandra’s side.
It was so quick I’d barely had a chance to let the tantalizing scent of his soul affect me. I wished I could say that after what had happened with the gray it didn’t bother me, but it had. My hunger surged forward. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to push it back.
“Can you fix her?” Bishop’s words to Zach were tight. Roth, Zach and Bishop gathered in a circle around Cassandra.
I stayed where I was, a safe distance away, watching tensely.
“I think so.” Zach gently rolled Cassandra over onto her stomach.
I’d experienced something extremely similar nearly two weeks ago when a searchlight had led me to Roth. When he’d been “reborn” after the ritual, he’d immediately sensed I was a gray. And he’d been sent here to kill grays. He quickly and efficiently broke my neck. I’d been only moments away from death when Zach managed to heal me. And I swear, when an angel heals you, it’s as if nothing ever happened. Better than that, really. My neck had honestly never felt so good. Still did. He was like a Heaven-sent chiropractor.
“Cassandra, can you hear us?” Bishop asked, touching her shoulder gently.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Hold still and let Zach help you.”
“All right. Go ahead.” Her pain-filled eyes narrowed. “And hurry up.”
I couldn’t help but smile shakily at that. The angel was very bossy and it didn’t matter what the situation was. I wondered if all host angels were the same.
Zach pushed her sweater up farther to reveal more of her winged-tattoo-like imprint, identical to Bishop’s and the other angels’. Then he placed his hands on Cassandra’s spine and closed his eyes. His hands began to glow white. Cassandra cried out, and every muscle in my body tensed in sympathy.
I remembered that this felt worse before it felt better—like fire burning straight through your flesh and into your bones.
Finally, Zach returned her sweater to its