I said, shoving a couple out of the way. The door was only feet from us, and the calming magic of the club was gnawing at me. It hit already sensitive nerves, and if not for the rage, I might have slipped into a slumber right then and there.
As it was, I slammed into the door. It flew open and hit the brick wall of the club with a bang.
Nathalie followed suit, panting even harder than me. She paused, bending at the waist to catch her breath.
“You know, I think this is the part where you’re supposed to say thank you.”
“We need to keep moving,” I snapped, jogging down the cement pavement. “My apartment should only be twenty minutes away if we run—”
Another roar split the air. Closer, but still in the club.
Fuck.
“I don’t think we have time for that,” Nathalie panted, struggling to keep up.
She was right. We wouldn’t make it more than five minutes without him catching up to us at this rate.
“We need to lose him,” I said. “Or you’re dead.”
“And you’re not?” she replied, lifting an eyebrow.
Answers.
She was searching for answers.
“If he catches me, I’m worse than dead,” I muttered. Not willing to say more than that now that I knew why he was hunting me. I may have a begrudging respect for the girl, but I still wasn’t going to tell her what happened back there.
“Can he track your scent?” she asked.
I grit my teeth. “I think so.”
“We need to get off the street, then. The nearest L station—”
“Is seven minutes away, not to mention the wait for the train. We won’t make it.”
My rage slipped entirely, draining away in an instant. With it, my speed flagged. We were so fucked.
“I’ve got an idea,” Nathalie said. She stopped instantly, and I balked.
“What the hell are you doing?”
She lifted her hand in the air and shouted, “Taxi.”
The driver approaching took one look at us and seemed to make the conscious choice to keep going. It wasn’t like he would be short on business, after all. There were fewer taxis on the roads these days. I couldn’t let that happen. Without thinking, I stepped off the sidewalk and walked into the middle of the street.
Tires screeched.
A car horn blared.
I stood, tired and pissed off with my arms crossed over my chest, staring over the hood at the taxi driver.
He looked a little pale when Nathalie hopped in. I went around and opened the back door.
“Piper.” The sound of my name made me look.
Standing at the end of the street was the demon.
I lifted my head above the roof of the cab to look him in the eye.
His name came to my lips, sudden and unbidden.
“Ronan,” I whispered.
“Run far, run fast, Atma, because I will catch you.”
He spoke softly, but his words reached my ears.
I pressed my lips together and climbed in the cab.
We started moving instantly. In the passenger seat, Nathalie was rattling off instructions for the taxi driver. I slumped in the back, hot and cold flashing through me.
Minutes. I had minutes at most.
I wanted to curse my body for being so damned fickle after using my powers, but that would do little good right now. I leaned my head back, staring at the ceiling as a wave of dizziness overcame me.
Atma. He’d called me Atma.
I’d known he wanted me from the moment he got upset about Flint’s scent on me, but the fire . . . I shuddered. It didn’t burn him. Not as it should.
And then there was the blood . . . it told me his name. Or at least the name he went by, since their true name was ever-changing, evolving, as they were.
I closed my eyes.
For a decade, I’d hated the supernaturals who owned my world.
I’d hunted them.
I’d killed them.
And now, in the grandest twist of fate—I was bonded to one of them.
Permanently.
This week was just going from bad to worse, but I didn’t really have time to think about it as black dots appeared in my vision. Tremors shook me. The oscillations between hot and cold became so intense that my teeth would chatter only to be followed by an unholy swelter that left me panting.
Darkness rose up, and try as I might, there was nothing I could do to stop it.
12
Ronan
She ran. Again.
However, I wasn’t angry. No. Not after I’d seen her past. The man she called Claude Lewis had tricked her. Lied to her. Ruined her.
I may have killed him and enjoyed it, but the damage was done.