A Perfect Blood (The Hollows #10)(85)

Frustrated by my pace, Jenks walked before me to light his way. There was a crash from somewhere ahead, and I froze, feeling the weight of the earth press on me. “Hold on a sec,” Jenks said, and he darted ahead again.
The tunnel grew dark. My ankle still throbbed, but I pushed on, arms aching. I heard Jenks before I saw him, an excited red to his dust as he slid to a stop, inches before my nose. “He’s out!” he said, and I blew the hair from my eyes. “That was a grate popping off. It opens up into a sewer line or something. You’re almost there. Hurry your little witch ass up!”
“Swell,” I breathed, thinking someone had made a mistake. You don’t have an air shaft empty into a sewer, even if there was negative airflow. “You think you could slow him down?” I panted as I tried to move faster.
He gave me a thumbs-up and darted ahead. The air suddenly smelled a lot fresher, and I thought I saw a patch of lighter darkness ahead. I could hear cars, and I wondered how far I’d crawled. A city block? “I’m going to smack you so hard you won’t wake up until next week,” I whispered as I pushed myself the last few feet. “Making me crawl through a pipe. God!”
Heart pounding, I managed the final span, carefully poking my head out past the broken grate hanging from one twisted chunk of metal. I was about five feet above the floor of what looked like a subway tunnel, lit by a thin strip of streetlight coming in through a grate, almost even with me on the other side of the wide cement tube. Eloy was nowhere to be seen.
“Holy crap,” I whispered, looking up at the rumbling sound of traffic overhead. We were under Central Parkway. This wasn’t a sewer line, but the old subway system, or what was left of it. It figured they’d use it for a bioshelter during the Turn.
I looked down at the five-foot drop. I had to take it headfirst, but if Eloy could do it, so could I, and hearing Eloy’s sudden oath and Jenks’s laugh, I slowly wiggled into the lighter darkness, reaching for the ground. My hips started to slide out, and I tossed my gun to the cement an instant before I fell.
The ground rushed up, and I stifled a gasp, palms and arms taking most of the impact. My shoulder hit, and I rolled, tucking my head so I wouldn’t crack my nose open. The stink of wet cement hit me as I sucked in my breath and tried not to cry out. Everything hurt, and holding my elbow, I tossed my hair from my eyes and looked for my gun.
“Hurry!” Jenks said, looking frazzled as he hovered before me. “If he gets out onto Central Ave., he’s gone!”
I reached for my gun. Jaw clenched, I staggered to my feet, trying not to put too much weight on my foot. At least I could stand now. My boots were tight enough to give some support, but it still hurt like hell.
Jenks flew beside me, braver than I was for doing the same thing with no sword to back up his words. The street noise grew louder, the sunlight leaking through dimmer. The tunnel ended in a wide stairway, and the quick flash of sunlight followed by a thump of metal on metal made me lurch forward.
“Wait!” Jenks whispered, almost in my ear, and I hesitated. That slow, rasping noise started again. Eloy was still down here, and I put my back to the wall beside the stairway, trying to catch my breath and regroup. He had a pistol. Trent’s charms didn’t last very long and could be circumvented by simply avoiding eye contact when they were invoked. Frowning, I pulled my remaining zip strip from my boot and left it in the dirt. I’d have to bludgeon Eloy into unconsciousness and sit on him until Jenks could get help.
I smiled, liking the idea.
Heart pounding, I peeked around the wall and saw Eloy at the top of the stairway. The man had his back hunched as he stood under a door set flush with the ground, like a root cellar, pushing it up with his back to make a crack big enough to get his hand through, but little else. It was hard to see with only the dim sunlight leaking in, but it looked like he was trying to saw through a chain. Where in hell had he gotten the saw?I ducked back and met Jenks’s eyes. He grinned at me, and I grinned back. “I take the high ground, you take the low,” he said, and I shook my head.
“You’re compromised without your sword,” I whispered, and he scowled. “I need help. The radio is off. We’re fighting HAPA. Go get Glenn. Tell him where we are. I’ll keep Eloy busy until you get back.”
“I’m not going to leave you. You’re compromised, too, you stupid-ass witch.”
God, I loved hearing him call me that. “Get Glenn!” I insisted, awkwardly shifting my weight. “Even with my gun, I can’t bring him down by myself. As you say, I’m compromised.”
Jenks’s face tightened, but he nodded. “Can you just stay alive for the next five minutes?” he said, and lifted up and away, his wings a bright flash as he found the sunbeam and followed it out.
My pulse hammered. Moving slowly, I tightened the grip on the butt of my weapon and I came around the wall, gun pointed.
“Shit!” Eloy exclaimed as my bad foot scuffed and he spun. The heavy metal door slammed down again, sealing us in a room with only a thin, dusty thread of sunlight. Jaw clenched, I fired, aiming for his smug face.
Eloy dove off the steps and into the shadows. His metal saw clattered, abandoned, and my shot broke harmlessly on the stairs. Frowning, I realigned my sights. “Give it up!” I shouted, my voice echoing in the shadows. “The FIB knows where we are!”
The pop of his pistol going off shocked through me. Jumping, I dove for cover. My ankle gave way, and I fell, my splat gun skittering away from me even as I found a broken pillar to hide behind and flashed a protection bubble into place. Damn it! I’d lost my gun, and my head pounded with the remnants of the sudden flow of energy I’d used to make an undrawn circle strong enough to deflect a bullet. Three hearts pounded, one in my ankle, one in my head, one in my chest. But I’d gotten it up in time, and I was safe.
Bubble holding, I peeked up over the broken rubble and saw my gun in a spot of sun just to my left. If my ankle wasn’t throbbing, I might chance making a run for it, but he had three bullets left, and I was sure my gun was in Eloy’s view. I could hide in a bubble until help arrived, but if I did that, he could simply walk away. Suddenly I realized how deep in the crapper I was, and I dropped my inner circle to set a wider one, one that encompassed both of us and would keep him from reaching the door.
“Maybe I should have shot you,” Eloy said as he came out from behind his pillar, satisfaction oozing from him, his gun pointed at me. “Where’s your bug?”
“He’s a pixy, dumbass. Get it right.” I got to my feet, agony stabbing up through me. Damn it, I had lost my stealth as well as my gun. “I’m not letting you leave,” I mocked, hands on my hips as I tried not to look at my gun, glinting in the sun. “I can hold that bubble all day. You’re stuck until the I.S. gets here. If you jump a line, you’ll end up in a cell.” 
Eloy smiled as he looked at my gun, then came forward a few steps. “I wanted you alive,” he said, his voice soft, echoing in the hard space. “Which is why I only strapped you before, but I need to get out of here more, and Kalamack’s records say there’s another one of you, a male. What was he trying to do, rebuild the species that killed his own?”
My satisfied expression faltered. I glanced at my gun, wanting it.
Eloy took a few steps closer, his gun pointed down. “I’m all for conservation, but when I see a snake, I kill it. I’m just going to shoot you. A demon can’t hold a circle if she’s dead.”
Crap on toast, he didn’t want me alive anymore. Weapon held casually, he glanced behind himself and saw my bubble glowing between him and the door. “I’m curious,” he said lightly as he brought his pistol up. “Are you faster than my bullet?”
With no warning, he shot at me again. Gasping, I flinched, dropping the large circle and slamming a new one into existence between us. The bullet hit with a thump of sound that echoed through me, followed by a tiny ping as it sank into the ceiling. Dust trickled down. I could hear cars overhead, but no pixy wings. Damn it, Jenks, where are you?
Seeing me behind my circle, Eloy started backing to the door.
Panicked, I flashed a new barrier up between him and the door, stopping him in his tracks. He was still farther from the door than before, closer to me, two bullets in his gun.
Eloy put his weight on one foot and looked at the chamber of his pistol. “We have a problem, you and me. Drop your circle.”
My lip curled. “Right.” I squinted at him, listening for the sound of pixy wings but only hearing the shush of traffic.
In a sudden show of anger, Eloy slammed his foot against the inside of my circle in a back kick and found it solid. Then his flush vanished, replaced with a smile that chilled me. Eyes darting, he took several steps closer. My breath came fast as he pulled his gun up, squinting.
“How about . . . now?” he said, pulling the trigger.
I sucked in my air. The line was already running through me, and I wavered on my feet as I forced it into a new circle, sweating with the effort. My head was humming, and my foot felt like it was on fire. The bullet thunked into my barrier and went zinging into the dark. One. He had one bullet left.
The man nodded, as if congratulating me. “Not bad, not bad,” he said, and I dropped my circle, enticing him nearer. If I could touch him, I could drop him with a blast of ever-after. The thing was, he probably knew it and wouldn’t get that close—unless I made it irresistible.