Page 1 of City of the Lost
1
My legs ached and my lungs burned as I hurtled down the empty gray corridor of the university, past notice boards and fire extinguishers pinned to the wall. A big, juicy blood bag with legs, that’s what I was, and the predators on my tail were parched. But I was almost at my destination.
A week ago, the Lost had been slower—sluggish even—much easier to take down. Now, the fuckers were getting faster and smarter, and we’d had to get inventive. Give them what they loved—a chase. They’d obviously fed enough to get their Sanguinata mojo back; shame it didn’t help them regain sanity. Sucking on neph blood had driven them completely loopy. It had been why The Collective had sealed them up in the Underground railway system. They should have exterminated them all, but someone, somewhere had other ideas, and here we were—seal breached, Lost running wild, and me and my crew having to clean up the mess.
So, yeah, running shoes would have come in handy right about now, but my boots would have to do. They took me up a flight of stairs, through a set of doors, and into a lecture theatre.
Noir didn’t look up from his ministrations at the bottom of the descending rows of desks, but Azren did, his steely jaw clenching at the sight of me. Was that relief in the ice man’s eyes? I barreled down the steps, past neat rows of desks, and landed with anoomphby the lecturer’s podium.
“Tada!” I did the jazz hands.
Noir snorted in amusement.
I shot Azren a look. “At least someone appreciates my humor.”
A cloud passed over the moon, blocking out the silvery light streaming in through the classroom window. Noir finished casting the trap and rushed toward a metal storage cupboard, then pressed his back to the wall beside it. Azren fell into a crouch behind the lectern, and I ducked into the shadows in the alcove where the projector was stored. Noir caught my eye from across the room. His eyes glinted in the gloom, asking me a question.
I did the non-verbal communication thing, hoping it didn’t make me look constipated. Noir nodded. He got it. I’d led the Lost here with my scent, and once they were inside the room, they’d be able to smell us with their super bloodsucker olfactory system. Hiding meant they’d focus only on our scent and hurtle straight into Noir’s trap. Sure enough, a second later, the door creaked open and they filed in. In no rush now that they had their prey cornered.
They spread out, five sinewy, hungry Lost crawling down toward us, weaving between the seats, noses in the air as they followed the trail we’d left. Sweat broke out on my brow and my breath grew shallow. Why were they moving so slowly? Why the caution, dammit? Come on, come get me.
Azren remained completely still, shoulder muscles bunched beneath the thin T-shirt he was wearing. The dagger I’d loaned him was pressed to his side in a white-knuckled grip. If all went to plan, then he wouldn’t need it. Almost there, just a little farther. They hesitated on the final step that led to the main floor where the lecturers did their thing. Could they sense the trap? Could they see the lines of Arcana magic that Noir had etched into the ground?
The cloud passed and moonlight lanced into the room. The ground glittered, and for a moment, the circle Noir had drawn was clearly visible to the naked eye. From the irate look on Noir’s face, that certainly wasn’t supposed to happen.
The Lost let out a shriek and began to back up. The creatures may be unhinged, but they obviously weren’t dumb. They’d managed to give us the slip two nights running now. Losing them again wasn’t an option, especially with five dead nephs in their wake.
The riverbed had welcomed the victims: two homeless neph, a young couple, and a student. My stomach churned with sick guilt. We’d disposed of the bodies, gotten rid of the evidence of this new scourge on our city, because, as much as I hated it, we needed to protect The Collective’s secret. There was way too much uncertainty in Arcana City, way too much conflict between Northside and Southside, and this could be the spark that could ignite it all.
Giving The Collective a kick up the backside wasn’t an option, not unless we wanted to be the ones swimming with the fishes. The Collective didn’t mess about when it came to silencing threats, and us knowing about their deception was a huge threat. Damn, I wish I could bill them for cleaning up their fucking mess.
After all we’d done in the past few days, we weren’t losing this pack. I’d have no more deaths on my conscience. The sooner The Collective put their elite team on the case, the fucking better.
But the Lost were backing up, turning and heading up toward the exit. Shit. There was only one way to lure them into the trap now, only one way to force them to bypass intellect and act on primal need.
I stepped out of the shadows, swiped the dagger across my palm, and held up my hand.
“Hey! Dinnertime.” I squeezed my palm, forcing blood to pool out of the wound and drip onto the ground.
“What are you doing?” Azren hissed.
Noir didn’t question me; instead, he copied my move, slitting open his palm and stepping out of his hiding place, hand held aloft.
The Lost froze by the door, heads up, noses sniffing the air, and then with a primal, bloodthirsty scream, they attacked. Streaks of black against the mottled greenish-gray carpet of the lecture theatre, they poured down the stairs and slammed into the Arcana trap. It swallowed them whole, sucking them up into the air and holding them suspended four feet above the ground. They twisted and bucked as magic fizzed and flared around them. The sharp, electric scent of Noir’s signature power stung my nostrils.
Azren stepped up to the boundary, studying the creatures with interest. “What happens now?”
Noir joined him. “Now, we end them.” He clicked his fingers and the trap imploded, taking the Lost with it and leaving an echo of their bloodcurdling screams.
They were gone, leaving nothing but a circular singe mark in the carpet. “Well, this certainly beats hand-to-claw combat.” I sagged against the lectern and sniffed the air—a burning charcoal smell reminiscent of summer days around the outdoor grill. My stomach rumbled. “Anyone for pizza and chicken wings?”
* * *
Azren ate pizzalike it was going out of fashion. Noir blinked across the table at him, an uneaten slice of pepperoni on his plate.
“Amazing, ain’t it?” Trevor said in a stage-whisper. “It’s like the longest inhale, except instead of air, he’s sucking in food. We should enter him in an all-you-can-eat contest.”
Noir blinked and dropped his gaze to his plate. Azren shot Trevor a slit-eyed glare that a couple of weeks ago would have made Trevor lose bladder control. But something had changed between the two males. After the Shedim attack on the house, after Trevor had leapt to Azren’s defense, the dynamic between the two males had shifted into something more than cautious tolerance. Dare I be so bold as to call it hesitant friendship?
