Griffin had been telling the truth—about everything. I’d doubted him, doubted Lake—
The top drawer of the dresser flew outward, crashing against the opposite wall with enough force that it splintered into pieces.
Another drawer. Then another. Shards of glass from the mirror. The nightstand.
In the middle of the room, Jed straightened suddenly, and his eyes narrowed, his pupils pulsing. There was something almost reptilian about his stare, but as the Shadow tore the room to pieces, debris biting into my skin, Maddy’s, Caroline’s—Jed’s posture changed from defensive to offensive.
Our assailant might not have been solid, but his makeshift weapons were. Bleeding adrenaline and power, Jed lashed out with a roundhouse kick, shattering one of the dresser drawers. A piece of debris became a staff in his hands, and then he was nothing but a blur of motion, deflecting projectiles with agility and speed that were beyond that, even, of a Were.
Run. Run, and it will chase me. I couldn’t shake the idea. What was happening in this room wasn’t our killer’s MO. It hadn’t Shifted yet. It hadn’t laid a ghostly hand on any of us directly.
Maybe it wasn’t used to facing off against groups.
That thought unlocked another one in my mind, a memory: the victim in Winchester was a girl. A teenage girl. Human. Before she had been reduced to blood and bones, she might have looked a little something like me: brown hair, tan skin.…
The Wyoming victim had been a boy. A teenager. A human.
Most killers had a type. If this ghost—Shadow, whatever—was thirsting for prey, of all the people in this room, Caroline and I were the only two who might suffice.
Human. Teenagers.
Run, and it will chase me.
I ran. I jumped through the empty frame of a shattered glass door into air so humid, it clung like sweat to my skin. I ran harder, ran faster, ran like something was on my heels.
Come and get me, I thought. This was what our killer wanted, wasn’t it? One human, alone? At his mercy? Defenseless?
If I’d miscalculated, I’d just left the others to face the Shadow down alone. And if I was right, I might have just traded my life for theirs. I had no way of fighting this thing, no plan.
I could only hope that if I drew the monster out, Lake might be able to help Griffin break through, and together, they might be able to do to this Shadow whatever it had done to Griffin, send it wherever he was now.
Red, red, red.
I stopped fighting my racing pulse, the acid in my throat. I let it come. I beckoned my Resilience. I lost myself in—
Fear. The way it smells. The way it tastes. A small white room. No windows. No doors.
The change was instant and unmistakable. The sound of my own heart beating was drowned out by things a normal girl wouldn’t have been able to hear: the slight wind working its way through each blade of grass; gravel and rocks under my feet; heavy breathing, all around me.
It was here.
I’d run. The Shadow had followed. Had I not already been in Resilient mode, that would have flipped the switch, but this time, I felt the rush of power like a current instead of a wave. Each limb, each muscle, each cell of my body felt it separately.
It’s coming.
I ducked, falling into a roll and landing in a crouch. I couldn’t see the Shadow, couldn’t make out its form, but I knew where it was. I could hear its silence, feel the bloodlust.
I lunged to my left. It charged right. I dove forward. It came at me from behind. In a world of our own making, we danced, the monster and me.
Fight. Fight. Fight.
Harder, faster, farther, more. I couldn’t keep going like this indefinitely. Eventually, the Shadow would land a blow. Eventually, my knack would drain my body of everything it had.
Fight. Fight. Fight.
Without warning, the onslaught stopped. I felt nothing, heard nothing, saw nothing. A week ago, I might have lost hold of the state I was in—no immediate danger, no power, but I didn’t let myself.
Couldn’t let myself.
Flashing out—as Jed called it—took energy. If I fell back into an ordinary state, getting here again would cost me. Maybe this thing really was gone.
But maybe it was waiting.
So I stayed right where I was, my mind in a room with nothing but the sound of heavy breathing, the smell of rancid blood. Endless, infinite, overwhelming.
Fear.
I stood perfectly still, caught up in a nightmare I’d made for myself, playing possum and waiting.
Come and get me, I thought.
The Shadow obliged, but this time, its form felt nothing like a person. This time, it felt like a wolf.
It hadn’t wanted me to hear it Shifting, so I hadn’t—but if I’d been outclassed before, I was completely screwed now. I couldn’t keep running. Couldn’t keep dodging. The world settled into slow motion around me, but it didn’t matter.