My body slowed down in shock. The claw came at me.
A bird flew directly into it, stabbing his beak into the creature’s skin, hard enough to make it recoil.
Rok, the raven.
What the—?
A hand closed around my upper arm and pulled me forward. The guard practically threw me past the glass doors. He came in right behind me. Then the metal sheet touched the ground and something large bumped into it.
My heart stopped, and I jumped back touching my back on the front desk.
“Damn bats,” said the guard, who had thrown me inside. His hands trembled.
Mine did too.
I turned around and stepped into chaos. The alarm still blasted, and the red lights flashed along the walls casting eerie shadows to the place. People cried and screamed. Some held bloody hands or arms or legs, while others lay on the ground barely breathing.
I pushed my feelings and shock aside and forced myself into action.
After throwing my tote under the front desk, I rushed around the place evaluating who was in a grave state and needed immediate attention, and who could wait until the mess around us subsided.
Three hours later, I leaned against a wall and took a deep breath.
“Jeez, that was close,” said Jill, a young nurse. Shoulders sagged and expression weary, she sat on a chair behind the desk at the nurses’ station and fidgeted with the computer. “Nadine, are you all right?”
I nodded. “I guess so.”
“You look pale.” She gestured for me to come around the desk. “You should sit down.”
“No, I’m fine.” What a lie. My heart still pumped in my chest, and my hands still shook.
“Those vicious bats. This is the third time this month,” she complained in a low voice.
Yes, the third time this month a group of bats had attacked people on the streets, close to the hospital. This was the first time I had seen it, been in it, and it was surreal. It was one thing to watch it on TV—a news channel had been able to record last week’s attack for two minutes—but another thing to live through it. The creatures simply flew over Manhattan in a solid black cloud and descended on the streets, slashing people with their claws and biting them with their teeth. It was a slaughter.
Of course, everyone still called these creatures giant bats, but I knew the truth. They were demons.
Nausea surged up again. God, I couldn’t think about it, or I would curl up and cry. “Yeah. Their attacks are becoming more frequent.”
“More frequent and just … more. It’s like they reproduce by the thousands. Soon, we won’t be able to leave our houses because not even armored cars will be able to protect us.”
Oh, if only she knew how true her statement was.
A loud bang came from the metal cover on the window across the hall. I jumped and Jill screamed. Whatever bat had bumped into the metal had actually left a dent on it.
“They can’t break through the metal, can they?” she asked.
I swallowed. “I don’t know.”
The alarm fell silent. My ears thanked whoever had a hand in it. However, the red lights continued flashing, indicating the doors and windows were locked. No one could get out or come in.
I tried not to think about the sick people who needed to get into the hospital now, or the people on the outside that weren’t able to escape and yet managed to crawl to the hospital, only to find its doors weren’t open. No. They would bleed to death outside, or they would end up eaten.
Jill touched my shoulder, bringing me back to the present. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
I blinked back tears. “Yeah, I am.” I went to the computer on the side desk and signed in. I should have done that the moment I arrived, but with all the craziness around us, it didn’t even cross my mind until now. “I think I’ll wash my face, then find something to eat before helping some more.”
“See you later,” she said as I walked away.
Besides these terrible moments, this job had been godsend. Almost literally. If it weren’t for Cheryl—or Ceris—I would still be making coffee and cleaning tables at the cafe. Here, as a patient care technician, I worked normal hours around my class schedule and was in the environment I wanted, where I planned to work in the future. I also made more money, which meant I could send more to my parents.
Since Victor and Micah found out who they were, things had gotten worse. Small businesses closed, the majority of the population was unemployed and some turned to robbery to survive, and agriculture was dead. Without the farm, my father didn’t have a job anymore. Now, he worked here and there, wherever he could find an odd job to do. Some days he helped in reconstructing the town’s church, others he was a chauffeur, while other days he cleaned the town’s streets. My mother tried to help by taking care of people’s children while they were at work—the ones who still had jobs. My parents’ place had become a daycare.
I halted when a woman stepped in front of me. I recognized her. The mother of the boy I had ran inside with. She had him tucked under her arm now. My heart squeezed. He was probably twelve years old, the same age Troy, my late brother, would be if he were alive.
“I wanted to thank you for what you did,” she said, her voice breaking.
I swallowed the tears. “It was nothing.”
“To me, it was everything.” Tears sprouted from her eyes, and she smiled. “Thank you.”
Holding an awkward, forced smile I hoped looked strong and sure, I touched her arm. “You’re welcome.”
The boy looked up at me, his brown eyes shining with reminiscent shock. “Thanks.”
I leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “My pleasure.”
Before I broke down and cried too, I walked around them and through an authorized personnel door in the corridor, intent on washing my face and sitting down for a minute on a couch inside the locker room. However, as soon as I crossed the doorway, a hand closed around my wrist and pulled me into the dark room. Fear shot through me. I was about to scream, but another hand closed over my mouth.
I jerked, but then his scent hit me and I froze, gasping. He let me go, and I quickly reached for the light switch turning it on.
My breath caught.
Victor squinted against the bright light. “Hi.”
2
Victor stood before me in a five-by-five dressing room. His honey-colored hair fell over his sea-green eyes in a sexy, messy way, and his tall, strong figure seemed to be shrunk inside his thick, dark gray coat.
I couldn’t speak. I could only stare. I hadn’t seen him in three months, not since he disappeared from the top of Cathedral Rock with Ceris—his mate—and left me alone with Micah and hundreds of demons.
Somewhere amid my shock, my brain processed he didn’t look right. He was too pale, and he was trembling.
“Victor, what is it?”
He groaned and fell to his knees. “Need … healing.”