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Lace lowered her tinted window. “What’s going on?”

“I’m about to find out. Keys are in the ignition,” he said to Jack, who was listening in from the passenger’s seat. He and Lace both had black eyes, which told Darien they suspected the same thing as him and had taken it upon themselves to scan the forcefield. “If traffic starts moving, take my car and drive until you find us.”

He was gone before they could reply, guiding Loren between lanes of traffic. It was a long and cold walk; Darien worriedLoren might not be strong enough to make it in her condition. She managed surprisingly well, though, the exercise raising her body temperature, just enough to take the edge off his concern.

As they drew closer to the cars idling at the front of every lane, Loren squinted to see through the downpour, her mortal eyes finally making out the crowds of people gathered around the battalion of military personnel, police officers, and YMPU agents blocking the exit, their vehicles staggered every few hundred feet.

She stepped closer to Darien, her pulse quickening. “What’s happening, Darien?” Police lights oscillated in patterns across the drenched road, limning her soft features and the braided strands of her hair with blue and red.

He tightened his hold on her hand, tugging her forward so she was right in front of him as they reached the crowds of people obstructing the highway. Darien guided her from behind, weaving between the bodies of witches, warlocks, humans, half-breeds, vampires, and werewolves. A few of the latter were fighting to keep their emotions in check, twitches and tremors rippling through muscles that were rigid and overheating.

Everyone was on the edge of hysteria, which made walking among them all the more dangerous—though Darien could admit they had every right to feel frustrated. Their concerns and complaints were falling on deaf ears, the authorities providing zero explanation as to why they were being barred from leaving the city. The only help the authorities were offering came in the form of empty promises and verbal threats, guns and staves out to discourage rioting.

Darien scanned the crowds, spotting a familiar face speaking with other officers of the MPU near the first blockade .

He pushed forward, still keeping Loren in front of him—guarding her from all sides. He got as close as possible to the authorities while staying far enough back to avoid being shot,and snarled in the stunned face of warlock Finn Solace,“What the fuck is going on?”He jabbed a finger at the forcefield, waves of vermilion washing across the highway by the sign that saidNow Leaving Yveswich.“That’s not supposed to be up until noon tomorrow!”

Finn gaped, evidently shocked to see him here. But he recovered quickly, cleared his throat, and said, “Change of plans.”

“Says who?”

“We’re doing our job. We’re following orders?—”

“Fuck your orders. Who told you to do this?”

A vampire cop stepped forward, his milk-white hand drifting toward the gun strapped to his hip. “Back up, please?—”

Darien didn’t give him the time of day. “I have it on good authority that this forcefield isnotsupposed to be up until Roark fucking Bright gives the word!” He amplified his voice so every officer, agent, and soldier in the immediate area could hear him.

“Sir, we’re going to have to ask you to step back?—”

“Take it down,”Darien growled at Finn.

Finn’s throat bobbed. “We can’t do that.”

“Take,” Darien repeated through clenched teeth, his eyes shifting into inky pools, “It.Down.”

Finn’s attention flicked to Loren. She was tucked against Darien, her back flush to his front. Her pale fingers were grasping his left arm that was crossed over her chest—over her heart.

Solace swallowed again, rain sliding down his face. “It’s not that simple,” he said in a hoarse whisper.

Darien’s nostrils flared, his bloodboiling. “So you’re just going to trap everyone in here? Leave them to die like pigs in a slaughterhouse and sneak out the minute the government gives you the okay? Where’s your conscience, Finn? Did you leave it in the same place as your common sense?”

Finn’s ears reddened. “This is myjob,”he hissed.

“Slaughtering people? No, Finn, that’smyjob. You’re supposed to be a shining example of a hero, but right now you just look pathetic,” he spat. “You don’t deserve to wear that badge. Who’s in charge here?”

“I am,” said a harsh male voice.

Darien whipped around.

A warlock with a shaven head was sauntering over, hands in his coat pockets.

Fuck.

Bandit let out a low growl in Darien’s shadow.

This was the same detective who’d arrested him and Jack when the hotel calledThe Blood Queenblew up. He was glaring at Darien with hateful eyes, his cruel features accentuated by the shadows beneath his sodden hood. His throat was slashed with a pink scar from the chains of the handcuffs Darien had strangled him with in the interrogation room.