that and an assurance that you’ll be fetched when Ares arrives or the entrance is cleared.”
Zach shook the guard’s hand in thanks, cursing himself for losing such a valuable item as the beacon. If not for that mishap, he’d already have Shanna inside, safely escorted to the portal that would take her to the realm of Below, free from this chaos surrounding them.
Already the winds whipping off the bay were broken by the howls in the distance and the cries of humans unable to fight. Shanna wasn’t going to be happy about being closed in a dark space where they wouldn’t be able to see what was going on, but it would be better than remaining in the car like a sitting duck, and they’d be warned if danger approached.
He turned to head back to the car when one last name popped into his head. She was a bitch, but she was local. “Kyana Aslan?”
The guard sneered. He definitely knew that name. “She’ll return before midnight as well.”
Zach knew when he was being dismissed. “If she arrives before Ares, will you point her in my direction?”
The guard agreed and Zach made his way back to Shanna. He eased onto the hood, staring out at the water as he considered his options. He didn’t really have any. He couldn’t get into the fort without clearance—couldn’t get Shanna inside until the protection spells were completed. He was going to have to wait it out. There was just under an hour and a half until midnight. Hopefully the Order would be ready by then.
Behind him, he heard the car door open, heard it shut again. “So, do we get to go inside or what?”
Forcing the tension from his face, Zach smiled. “I lost my beacon. They’re going to let us stay beneath the Ravelin until we’re permitted inside.”
“Great.”
“Grab the weapons. They promised to let me know when Ares arrives. They’ll let us in, then.”
As she stepped around him, he explained about the spell being performed, knowing she wouldn’t be happy about the humans who’d likely show up for protection as soon as they caught wind of what the fort had become, being turned away, too. She listened, scowling, obviously as unhappy about relying on strangers as he was. She pulled the weapons bag from the car and he took it, slung it over his shoulder before reaching for her hand.
As they passed a group of sentinels, the one who’d spoken to Zach stepped forward to escort them to their holdings, a blanket in his arms. He passed it to Zach, opened the tiny Ravelin door, and ushered them inside.
“Here,” he said, handing Shanna three white candles. “They’ll offer you light and maybe a bit of warmth.”
Shanna silently took them, and by the time the door was shut behind them and Zach made his way through the low-ceilinged structure, she was already curled up under the blanket, shivering like they were in minus-thirty-degree weather instead of a Florida winter.
He lit the candles, hoping they’d offer more light than the small loopholes near the ceiling did. “Come here,” he whispered, stretching out beside her and pulling her chest against his. He pressed his chin to her head and rubbed her back.
She rolled away slightly, staring up at him. “It just hit me that things are never going to be the way they were, are they?”
He shook his head. “But that doesn’t mean it won’t be okay.”
“Okay? It’s not okay for the people out there dying. For the kids who lose their parents in all this, or worse: the parents who lose their kids. How is that okay?”
He didn’t know what to say to that. Mostly because, growing up in the foster care system, he’d never had parents. And he most certainly didn’t have kids—who’d be born dedicated to the Order whether they chose that path or not. But he did have people he cared about. A lot. And the one foremost in his mind at the moment was staring up at him with such pleading in her eyes, he died a little.
“Shanna, I—”
She pressed a finger to his mouth and shook her head. “Whatever you’re going to say . . . just . . . don’t.”
Shanna sat up, slipped her shirt over her head and lay back down—on top of the blanket this time—teeth chattering. She pressed as tightly to Zach as she could get, needing far more than his warmth to get her through what was to come.
Even when they’d been apart she’d never