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The numbers were gone, but she was still running, the ground glowing beneath her feet with every step. Loren wasn’t sure how it was possible, but she didn’t care, because she was so close that she could see Darien’s handsome face right on the other side of the wall.

He was waiting for her. And even if she dropped dead on the other side of the Veil, at least she would get to be held by him one more time. It was all she wanted.

As she neared the Veil, hurtling past the demons that were heading for the gate, entirely oblivious to her presence, as if she were as dead as the spirits who crossed from the land of the living into this realm of endless sleep, she remembered the words of the Widow.

You can move as if you are a part of both sides of one coin, the Widow had told her. You belong neither here nor there, just as she had no real place in the universe, no true home, one foot in life and the other in death. She was the key, the turning of metal that split two worlds, and she has passed that responsibility onto you. You are the only child born directly from the prima materia in its purest form, therefore the universe and all things in it recognize you as belonging to them. You are the prima materia, therefore you can manipulate it, become it, make it anything you want.

Loren might not have known her mother, her past shrouded in shadows so heavy she wondered if they would ever clear. But in that moment, she knew that her mother had left her a great many gifts. Just like her mother, Loren had one foot in life and the other in death. She belonged neither here nor there, and while the thought of that frightened her, she didn’t allow it to slow or weaken her. Instead, she used it for fuel, pushing her aching legs faster as she closed the last of the distance that stood between her and the Veil—between her and her family—and launched herself right into Darien’s waiting arms.

He caught her, just like he’d promised, his strong arms closing around her waist.

“I’m alive.” She repeated the two words, again and again, as she buried her face against his shoulder, greedily breathing in the scent of him. A sob tore out of her rattling chest, and Darien echoed it with one of his own, gripping her tightly but not tight enough, fingers curling in her hair. “I love you, Darien. I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Darien held her for a long time as shots were fired around them, aura magic bathing the tunnels with many hues, like light refracting off a prism. Blood misted the air, but neither of them were fazed, their world consisting of nothing but the two of them, their thundering hearts blending into one song as they clung to each other, breathing in each other’s scent as if they couldn’t get enough. The insides of Loren’s eyelids lit up like fireworks as shots cracked through the tunnels.

Loren was utterly spent, every limb trembling from a crippling mixture of relief and exhaustion. Darien did not put her down, his arms never tiring as he held onto her, gripping her to his hard body, stealing this moment to simply breathe her in—to just exist with her.

And then Travis was calling out to him. “Darien, we’re down to the last crate!”

For the first time in minutes, Loren lifted her heavy head off Darien’s shoulder. She looked around at her family and friends, who kept firing different colored bullets, demons of all breeds sliding past in smears of blood. “What’s going on?” she asked.

“There’s not enough ammo,” Darien replied, his voice tense. He set her on her feet, but kept his arms around her, still supporting most of her weight. The others were fighting for energy, their faces streaked with dirt and blood. “We’re going to have to use our magic.”

Lace fired another shot, downing one of the wolf-like demons that dove through the Veil. “We don’t know how to do that,” she panted, wiping sweat off her brow with the back of her hand, her eyes alit with fear. “You could barely do it at the carnival.”

“We’re going to have to try,” Darien said.

That was when Loren’s legs gave out. She sagged against Darien, her full weight barely transferring to his arms before he was scooping her up, hooking her legs around his waist.

“I need to get her away from here,” he told the others. “I’ll be back in a few minutes, I promise.” Shots resumed as a handful of new monsters leapt through the Veil. Growls rent the air, and more blood sprayed. The stormwater runoffs sloshed like deep red ink as bodies tumbled into it.

“Darien, wait,” Loren rasped, every breath shallow. There was a hand in her gut, twisting it tight. Her exhaustion had caught up to her with a vengeance, and she thought she might puke. “You can’t leave them.”

But he was already walking down the tunnel, passing by the waterfalls that left a mist on her clammy skin and made her shiver violently, teeth chattering.

“Your father is in my car,” Darien explained as he plunged into the dark tunnels. There were no lights in this area, so she couldn’t see him anymore. She could only feel him. Darien added, “Your real father.”

“He’s okay?”

“He’s fine. So is Cyra. She went with Max to find the Moonstone.”

“Moonstone?”

“Arthur thinks we can seal the gate if we have two of them.” Darien covered distance quickly, and soon the exit was approaching, the streetlights above filtering through the grate in murky streaks. “I need you to wait in the car with your father while we handle this.”

Something clinked against his boot. He kicked it by accident, and it rolled into the wall.

It was a Life Clock. A lone syringe, the teal liquid inside emitting a faint glow.

Darien stooped to pick it up, a muscle twitching in his tight jaw.

Loren knew exactly what he was thinking. Valary had destroyed—or hidden—all the syringes. He hadn’t been able to get into Spirit and help her, but if he’d found this syringe, if he’d seen it before—

Of course Darien would be blaming himself again.

“Darien,” Loren croaked. “I don’t want to leave you—”

“I’ll be fine. I promise.”