Grave Dance (Alex Craft, #2)(86)
“No, I’m sorry, Hol y isn’t here right now,” Caleb said, cutting me off.
What? Oh, no. “Are they there? At the house?” “Yeah.
What? Oh, no. “Are they there? At the house?” “Yeah.
She said something about a headache and went to lie down, but she must have felt better because she left shortly after. I haven’t seen her since.”
My heart, already hammering in my chest, dropped.
“Caleb, is Hol y missing?”
“Yeah, a letter? I found it. Her bed, sure.”
A letter? It must have been important or he wouldn’t have mentioned it.
I stopped talking, my throat too tight to pass words, but my part of the conversation wasn’t important anyway. Caleb paused for a moment, as if listening to someone on my end of the line; then he said, “I don’t know if I’l be here when she gets back, but if I see her, I’l tel her.”
Didn’t know if he’d be there? Oh, f*ck, they were going to haul Caleb to Faerie. Agent Nori had threatened that acquaintances with independent fae were dangerous, but I’d thought she meant dangerous to me, not to my friends.
“What should I do?” I whispered the question around the lump clogging my throat.
Caleb was silent for a long moment before saying, “Good luck.” Then he disconnected.
Chapter 24
I paced around Falin’s apartment, my shins occasional y scraping this odd bit or my hands hitting that one. It was a good thing he didn’t have much furniture.
I stil clutched my phone, but I had no one left to cal . Hol y wasn’t answering, Caleb was on his way to Faerie, and Tamara’s phone was off, presumably because she was sleeping.
“What do I do now?” I asked the darkness hanging over my eyes.
As if in answer, a loud metal ic groan cried out behind me. I turned slowly, trying to identify the sound, but the only thing I could compare it to was the scream of an overtaxed support beam. Maybe the building is settling? I wasn’t sure I wanted to be on the seventh floor if the building was making noises like that. Another creak sounded, this time fol owed by a loud pop.
What are the chances this isn’t bad?
I tore down my shields, blinking at the explosion of color and light as I saw the world through my psyche. I glanced around, orienting myself as best I could in the suddenly crumbling landscape. I was in front of the large sliding glass door that led out onto a balcony—a balcony currently groaning under the weight of two massive paws that led up to muscular legs as thick around as my torso and covered in tan fur. But though the fur suggested mammal, when the front legs landed, they were hairless and ended in talons, like a bird. Huge feathered wings beat the air, blocking the sun. Folding the sixteen-plus wingspan against its back, the sun. Folding the sixteen-plus wingspan against its back, the beast hopped off the rail and ducked its massive eagle-shaped head under the base of the upstairs balcony.
Gryphon.
Or at least it looked like a gryphon. It was a magical construct, definitely. Its outline shifted slightly, its form slightly unreal, but where the other constructs had been misty outlines—this one looked more . . . congealed. I guess I found the missing souls.
Now I wished they would leave again.
The gryphon smashed one massive paw through the door. The glass shattered in an explosion of sound and shards of glittering shrapnel. I ducked, clutching my arms over my head, but the deadly part wasn’t the flying glass. It was the damn gryphon.
It screeched as it tore at the metal support bar. That’s not going to hold it back for long. I glanced at the front door. I could run. Having to tear through the building would slow it down, but I was guessing it had another tracking charm tied to me. If I ran, it would find me, and who knew how many people would get hurt in the process? Plus, the damn thing could fly—if I left the building I’d make myself an easier target. At least inside the building it wouldn’t be able to swoop down on me.
But I can’t just stand here.
I pul ed my dagger. It buzzed in my senses, excited about the prospect of being used. I frowned and glanced from it to the gryphon. I had a five-inch enchanted blade and it had talons as long as my forearm and reach to go with them.
But it’s not real.
But it wasn’t completely unreal either.
I stumbled back as one giant taloned foot swiped at me.
The creature shoved its arm al the way to the shoulder through the busted doorway, and in the part of my vision peering into the land of the dead, the mass of shimmering souls twisted. A face floated to the surface, a face caught in a never-ending scream, and one I recognized. The a never-ending scream, and one I recognized. The skimmer from the rift.
I didn’t have time to stare. The gryphon stuck its head through the space where the sliding glass door had been, wriggling to get that taloned foot closer to me. Tell me it’s stuck.
I’ve never been that lucky.
It wriggled more, making enough room for its other foot.
Damn. I looked down at the dagger in my hand again. That thing will tear me to pieces before I get anywhere near close enough to do damage. The dagger didn’t agree. I could feel that it thought we’d be fine. I wasn’t as confident, and I was the one with the rendable skin. The dagger wasn’t a good option. What else did I have?
The skimmer’s face was stil screaming silently as it stared out of the gryphon’s shoulder. Being able to see souls had always creeped me out. They were shimmery, ful of light, and looked so tempting to touch. Typical y a bad idea, but maybe . . .