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Maybe, if they all survived this, things would change. Maybe things could finally be different. Better.

She hit SEND.

Loren

Thank you for tonight.

It was funny how her heart could pound this hard when the person she was contacting was miles away and probably wouldn’t even see the words for many hours. Those four simple words.

She typed her other messages and sent them off before she could overthink them and change her mind.

Loren

And for everything else too. For opening your home to me all those years ago, when I had nowhere else to go.

I know Dallas is worried about you. She worries about you a lot, she just has trouble showing it.

Stay safe.

The screen blurred. It wasn’t until she blinked and felt a drop of moisture slide down her cheek that she realized why. She never thought she’d cry over someone like Roark, but… Well, thingshadchanged already. Maybe not for him, but for her. In more ways than one.

Boots crunched in the dirt.

She scrubbed the tear away as Darien approached, phone and cigarette in hand. His strong features were carved with shadow, every stunning edge and curve limned with bluish light from his screen. He typed for a minute—mostly with his left hand, the right in a black compression glove—before shutting the screen off and sliding the device into the back pocket of his jeans.

“What’s happening?” Lace asked him.

Darien took a drag. “Travis is heading to the harbor,” he replied, smoke curling out of his mouth. “Ivy didn’t tell me where she was, but they found the kids.” He blew out a stream of smoke and turned his gaze to the forcefield washing over the sprawling city. It was green again—Loren could just barely see it in her periphery—but it wouldn’t stay that way for long.

Darien’s eyes found hers—black, until he blinked it away, making them blue again. “How are you feeling?” Before she could reply, his attention dipped to her phone she clutched in her numb fingers. “Did you call someone?”

“I wanted to send a message to my dad,” she said, her teeth chattering. “Roark, I mean.” She paled as she realized— “Oh gods, was I not supposed to?” She hadn’t even thought of the fact that the imperator could hack her phone!

But Darien was entirely calm. Unconcerned. “You can do whatever you want, baby. It’s not like I haven’t been in contact with the others.” He took one last drag before putting his smoke out under the heel of his boot. “I’ll get Tanner to clear everything the minute he’s out.”

Lace’s head snapped his way. “Did they find Tanner?” she asked, her gray eyes brightening with hope.

“Yeah, he’s with Ivy.”

“Oh thank gods,” Lace breathed, tipping her head back. She stayed like that for a moment, as if quietly thanking the stars. There weren’t many of them out, most of them dim. But they were there.

Darien stepped up to Loren and crouched before her. He studied her face for a moment, undoubtedly noticing any dried tears on her cheeks, as evidenced by the way his eyes tightened, one corner of his mouth tipping down, before asking her, “May I see your tattoos?”

She straightened her arm out, and he grasped her wrist and pushed up both of her jacket sleeves as Lace stubbed out her cigarette and went to check on Jack and Arthur. Or to give them privacy. Maybe both.

The C on the inside of her wrist was pulsing with a bead of white light—not as brightly as before, though. And the serpent-entwined rod on that same forearm was a pale shade of red. Warm, but not burning.

Still not good signs, either of them. But they were small improvements compared to before.

Darien was frowning. He tugged her sleeves back down and looked up at her, his warm fingers still circling her wrist. “When was the last time you took one of your pills?”

“I can’t remember,” she croaked. Gods, she was so exhausted she could barely keep her eyes open. Hellsehers could go days without sleep while hardly being affected by the loss, but she was suffering. “I didn’t take any when I was using the chamber.” The Caliginous Chamber was a godsend—and it no longer existed. Was lying in a heap of rubble in the Financial District, according to what Darien had told her. She nibbled on her bottom lip. “Maybe a few days?” she guessed, thinking back to her time after coming out of a coma.

He stood, his fingers trailing off her wrist with noticeable reluctance, the tips of them skimming hers. “I’d like you to take one at the first rest stop, please.” The first rest stop—because they didn’t have any water in the car, and he knew she couldn’t swallow pills dry. She’d likely choke. Which was an avoidable problem they didn’t need.

But she wasn’t sure her pills would even help at this point—they hadn’t really done much in the way of helping her since she’d come out of a coma—and Darien didn’t look like he was sure, either. But, just to put his mind at ease, she told him, “Okay.”

“Dare?” Lace called. He turned. She was walking back this way, hands buried in her coat pockets. Her cheeks were rosy from the biting cold. “I think we should start heading home. Arthur’s not doing so well, and the longer we wait the greater our chances that Jack will snap and make a run for the forcefield.”