In the time it took for that little spat to take place, Paige had already wriggled onto her side and pulled one leg free from where it had been pinned to the floor. Even after she twisted her head around to get a look at where she was, she couldn’t make out much more than a crowd of shadows cast by a dim light.
The hand on the back of her head gripped her skull like a melon, curling short, thick fingers against one ear until claws scraped against her cheek. The weight on her back shifted toward her shoulder blades as the second of the two voices told her, “Lay still and keep quiet unless you’d rather go back up to those goddamn Full Bloods.”
“Let me go,” she said. With every word, dirt trickled from her mouth, adding fuel to the angry fire that was already blazing inside of her.
“Only if you calm down.”
“You know a great way to calm me down? Let me go.”
A few silent moments passed, but Paige sensed that the other two were consulting with each other. Since they were diggers, the creatures were most likely Mongrels. Last time she checked, Mongrels weren’t psychic. Whatever looks or gestures they were exchanging, she let them have a few more seconds to wrap up.
The closest voice said, “I’m going to let you go. Just remember that we dragged you away before you could be hurt.”
“I remember.”
“And we’re not enemies here,” the second voice added. “We’re being pushed around just like you.”
“Sure. Fine.”
The sighs that came from the other two filled the hollowed space they and Paige now occupied. Once she felt the grip on her neck and ankles loosen, she scrambled away and turned to get a look at them.
Both were Mongrels, that was for sure. They had the thick limbs, long claws, leathery skin, and beaked noses that marked them as burrowers who traveled underground as if swimming through water and dug tunnels or dwellings beneath the surface for their pack. She and Cole had found one such pack beneath a suburban Nebraska neighborhood that remained hidden by tunneling between the basements of several homes. The two with Paige squatted within a space roughly the size of a closet that had been hollowed out of the earth. Hard-packed soil closed in on all sides, trickling dusty drips with every move they made. Their chests heaved with the effort of bringing her there, but instead of breathing through their mouths, their exhales caused large gill flaps on the sides of their necks to stretch out before laying flat again.
The Mongrel farthest from her squatted on his haunches and examined her with dark eyes covered by a set of vertical lids. A dented little flashlight clipped to a belt cinched around his narrow waist was the only source of illumination in the confined space. His beak moved in a constant rhythm that was only broken when he took a moment to crack the gum he was chewing. Tossing Paige’s weapons to the ground near his long feet, he said, “You’re a Skinner.”
“And you’re a Mongrel,” she replied. “Next topic.”
“I’m Burke. That there’s Salvatore.”
She nodded slowly and said, “I’m Paige.”
Salvatore was on one knee, still tangled in his own limbs after tussling with her. A filthy wife-beater was stuck to his upper body by layers of wet grime. His lower section was covered by tattered old jeans. As soon as he got himself situated, he stood up so his shoulders, neck, and head were wedged against the top of the hollowed space, as though he was the sole support beam. “Them others ain’t Skinners. They smell like metal and fire.”
“The fire you smell is probably the plane that was brought down. Kind of hard to miss that.”
“We didn’t miss—” Salvatore stopped as if someone had pressed a button to pause him in mid-sentence. When he thought one of the others in the chamber with him was going to make a sound, he held up a clawed finger to pause them too.
Paige looked up but could only see dirt separating from the wall as something heavy thumped overhead. The impacts moved like footfalls but were solid enough to send little shock waves through the ground. They stopped and were soon followed by scratching sounds that sent large sections of the chamber tumbling onto Paige’s head.
“Come on,” Burke said as he rushed toward her. “Gotta move.”
Her first impulse was to struggle before being scooped under the Mongrel’s arm. Since she didn’t have