Riders (Riders, #1)(59)

Daryn was halfway. Hauling. But it felt like she’d never reach me. Instinct took over and I shot toward her. I had no weapon, no way to give her cover. I did the only thing I could, putting myself between her and the Kindred.

Somehow we reached the van alive. We rounded it and I swung the passenger door open.

She jumped inside. “Let’s go, let’s go!” she yelled.

In the back of the van, Marcus sagged against a stack of boxes, holding his shoulder.

I shook my head. “Bas.”

“Gideon! We have to go!”

But I was already moving, dropping low and peering around the front of the van.

The Kindred hadn’t moved. They stood in a loose group around Samrael, whose eyes were fixed on me, his lips pulled into a smile.

I scanned the tarmac, the giant cargo planes and service trucks. Where the hell had Bas gone?

An invisible blow hit me over the eyes. The pain came, violent and sudden, like a door slamming over me. I crumbled against the van.

Samrael was ruthless this time. It wasn’t the dull probe of fingers now. It was a screwdriver, prying into my skull. My mind gave with a snap. I was sucked back into the tunnel of darkness. Then an image appeared before me. I was looking at Daryn in the elevator on the way to Herald Casting. My focus moved from her blue eyes to the thick silver chain she wore around her neck.

Is this it?

I didn’t want him to know.

Ahhh. So it is. Is that what you’re trying to not tell me? Let’s look a little more.

I saw flashes. A lightning-quick scan through my memories.

Daryn in my Jeep, curled up asleep—

Sebastian auditioning, staring at his hands—

The creepy winged guy in the desert—

So you’ve met Alevar, have you? Did you feel sorry for him, Gideon? He does raise sympathy, doesn’t he? With those blind eyes and that ‘help me’ face of his. He is our weakest, but don’t get your hopes up. He’s still quite horrible. And you haven’t met Ra’om yet. Ra’om makes up for little Alevar by quite a wide margin.

The blurring started again.

Daryn in the airport shuttle, when we’d been locked in a stare-down—

The bloody towel in Marcus’s car—

Daryn at the diner outside of Los Angeles, when it’d just been us—

Well. Would you look at that? That’s it, isn’t it? Did she tell you this is the key?

Why was he even asking? The key was right there. Visible. The first and only time I’d seen it.

“Gideon, please! Listen to me! Listen to me. Listen.”

At the sound of Daryn’s voice, the real world came closer. I was on my ass, my back against the front bumper. Daryn was kneeling in front of me, her hands framing my face, staring right into my eyes. “Come back, Gideon. Come back, come back, come back. I’ll tell you three more things about me if you come back.”

I couldn’t respond. The connection between my brain and my mouth was down.

Daryn peered past the van, her eyes widening with fear. I imagined what she saw, Samrael closing in.

“Gideon,” she said, desperately, “it’s a good deal. I don’t ever talk about myself, so I’d take it if I were you. Three more. Ten more. Please come back.”

I tried but Samrael hooked in, dragging me back.

You think you can run, but you can’t. We are always behind you. Above you. Among you. You can save us all some time by bringing me the key. It’s that easy, Gideon.

Vaguely, I became aware that Daryn had gotten me on my feet and over to the passenger door. Strong girl. So strong.

More than you know.

“Get in!” she yelled, trying to push me into the passenger seat. “Marcus, help me!”

My body was coming back to me. My mind, too. I found my feet and lifted myself into the van. Then I remembered Sebastian and stumbled back out.

Daryn and Marcus swore as I lumbered around the van again—this time stepping out into the open. I couldn’t leave Bas behind. I didn’t do that. I didn’t do that.

It’s the soldier’s training.

It’s a soldier’s heart, you demon piece of shit.

I was looking right at Samrael now. He stood thirty meters away, holding one of his pale blades at his side. Sirens wailed and flashed across the airport tarmac, speeding toward us through the darkness.

“What’s the matter?” I said. “Can’t take a little insult?”

He let go of me then, fully releasing my mind with a sharp recoil, like I’d struck a nerve. Then he turned to Pyro and said, “Here is your chance at last, my kin. Burn him.”

Immediately, Pyro flung his arms wide. White-hot fire flared in his palms. Brilliant, condensed points. I saw them for an instant before he hurled them at me.

I dove away, tumbling onto the asphalt. An explosion cracked into the night, pushing a wave of heat past me. Hot air seared into my nostrils and deep in my throat as I drew a breath. Scrambling to my feet, I looked at the van, squinting at the brightness and heat of the flames.

Terror shot through me. It was covered almost entirely by fire.

Daryn and Marcus were in there.

I ran, the need to reach them overshadowing every other thought in my mind.

The rear door of the van slid open as I reached it, Marcus pulling it from inside. “Come on!” he yelled.