Page 45

Everyone was here now—crowded together in the cramped space. Ivy, Jack, Lace, Aspen, Travis, Max, Dallas, Kylar, and Malakai. It was a good thing Darien’s spacious truck had been taken to the tar pits, or they would’ve been forced to split up again. The only two who were missing—apart from the obvious subtractions—were Maya and her pink-haired friend. They’d slipped away during the commotion, a turn of events that was clearly bothering Max, if the brooding look on his face where he sat across from Loren was any indication. Conflicted—that was the best way to describe how he looked. Howeveryonelooked.

Loren wasn’t surprised to discover it was Malakai who was pushing that button on the vending machine, his dusty, tangled hair gleaming in the fluorescents like a tarnished penny. Thatthe lights worked at all was a miracle, though they flickered often, earning concerned glances from staff and patients alike. The furnace, too, was working overtime, the near constant stream of air occasionally turning cold.

Malakai paused his assault on the button and glared at the machine as if it offended him.

Loren tucked her knees up and snuggled deeper into her hard chair, stuffing her icy cold hands between her thighs to warm them. She was about to shut her eyes again, hoping Malakai was finished with his distracting pastime, when he suddenly returned to pressing a different button. Vigorously.

“Excuse me, sir!” called a female voice, Malakai’s finger moving so quickly it was practically vibrating.“Sir!”

Malakai stopped and pivoted on a heel to face the nurse’s station.

“You know you have to put money in first, right?” said the middle-aged witch, corded phone cradled against her shoulder. Landlines, being an older form of communication that had its own backup energy supply, weren’t affected by short-term power or magic outages. Only the staff had access to the phones, but even if they were allowed to use them, no call would go through to cell phones. Cellular radio systems were still down all across the city, and by the looks of things, that wouldn’t be changing any time soon.

“You got keys to unlock it?” Malakai gritted out. “I don’t have any change.”

The nurse merely raised her brows, said, “Not my problem,” and returned to her call.

Malakai scowled at the machine. “Bitch,” he muttered. His blood-shot narrowed eyes flicked to Loren. “You got any change, Blondie?”

Loren arched a brow. “You’re asking the poorest person in the room?” Her voice crackled from exhaustion.

“I’m poorer than you,” Dallas said, plucking a singed feather from her deformed left wing, one leg folded beneath her. “Unemployed student life.” The last word was garbled by a yawn.

“Here.” Ivy got up and crossed the space, boots clicking. She rummaged around in a pocket in the thigh of her full-body suit, the material such a deep burgundy it was almost black, and handed Malakai two coins. “Is this enough?” she asked him.

The Reaper merely grumbled and pushed the coins into the slot in the machine.

“You remembered to bring cash?” Kylar asked from where he leaned against a wall by an abandoned mop and bucket. Loren wrinkled her nose, the sight of the cleaning equipment a reminder as to why her airways were burning. While strong chemicals tended not to bother immortals, they wreaked havoc on the human body.

“I always try to come prepared,” Ivy said. She returned to her seat beside her nodding-off husband—returned to monitoring Loren as if she were watching television. She crossed her legs, fingers tapping against her knee to the tune of a melody that only she could hear.

Those were the first words Ivy had said since Loren regained consciousness inside the ambulance and the paramedics helped her inside, where the nurses had taken over her care and given her a bottle of cranberry juice and a package of hard candies. Like most other people in the hospital, Ivy looked as though these last few hours had aged her. The whites of her eyes were inflamed, her face scratched and streaked with dirt. Loren wasn’t eager to look in a mirror anytime soon; she could only imagine the mess she’d see staring back at her.

Malakai plunked into a free chair with such force it was a miracle the legs didn’t snap. “I’m starving,” he declared. He ripped open his bag of chips with apop.“And mad.” He crammed atleastfour chips into his mouth and crunched,crumbs sprinkling his beard. The smell of the salty, baked chips made Loren’s stomach growl.

“So are we,” Travis snapped. He was leaning against the edge of the desk, arms crossed. When he’d arrived at the hospital, a fight had nearly broken out between him and Malakai. The men had only calmed down when the nurses had threatened to kick them out, an outcome that would’ve resulted in neither of them seeing Jewels. Travis added with a grumble, “Quit bitching.”

Malakai glared, but he was too invested in his chips—and too aware of the threat he’d received earlier—to budge from his chair.

Aspen gave him a look that seemed to say,You’re making progress.

He merely flashed her a lazy thumbs up and finished off his chips, tipping his head back and dumping the remnants into his mouth.

The room fell into a welcome moment of quiet. Those who spoke did so in subdued voices, their murmurs the only sound for several minutes, apart from the occasional droning of landlines and the swishing of scrubs as staff members bustled by.

Loren had just dozed off, her body begging for rest, when a voice woke her back up. Malakai again—no surprise there.

“Anything you three would like to share with the class?” the Reaper drawled, eyeing Kylar, Lace, and Aspen, who were deep in conversation.

“We’re talking about Pax and Gene,” Kylar said. Travis, who was slumped against the desk looking miserable, perked up at the mention of his younger brother.

Lace added, “We think we should split up. Some of us can wait here while the rest of us go to Roman’s and make sure Arthur and the others are okay.”

Malakai pretended to clean out his ear with his pinky finger. “I’m sorry, what?Split up?You’re out of your damn mind, Lacey.”

“You got a better idea?” she fired back. “Because as far as we know, there’s an old man and two kids who are probably very afraid right now, given all this shit that’s going on. Not all of us have to be here. We’ll cover more ground if we split up.”

“She’s right,” Max mumbled. That was all he had to say about the matter, his mind undoubtedly still occupied with thoughts of Maya.