It was the same window I’d been looking out not even an hour ago.
A break in the line.
I lifted my arm slowly. A thin layer of white dust coated the inside of my forearm from wrist to elbow. Jared noticed and pulled me closer to get a better look. He touched the crystals and brushed them off my skin as if he expected to see something underneath.
“I didn’t realize—”
Jared cut me off. “We have to leave. Now.” He dropped his voice so no one else could hear him. “Don’t say anything about this. I’ll handle it.”
Alara started to pour another salt line along the windowsill.
Jared took the bag from her and tossed it on the floor, white crystals spraying across the gray concrete. “There’s no point. It won’t be long before Andras finds out about this place.” He turned to Lukas and Priest. “Grab the gear. We’re gone.”
Alara pushed past me. “Let’s make sure we can get out first.”
The window rattled despite the fresh salt. Maybe nothing was coming in, but something definitely wanted to. Jared fought to hold the frame in place, but only a few rusted screws remained.
I reached for the loose side of the window, but Jared nodded toward the sheets. “Help Priest. We need to take as much as we can.”
I hesitated.
Another screw shot out of its casing and rolled across the floor.
I ran.
“Alara, a little help here!” Jared yelled. She slipped through the sheets carrying a stainless steel bowl. She scooped out a handful of dark green mud and smeared it over the glass, in the shape of an X.
I passed Lukas shoveling armloads of books and clothes into backpacks, but I didn’t stop until I reached Priest.
Two duffel bags lay open on his worktable, and he was tossing everything from weapons to tools and scrap metal inside. I grabbed stuff from the metal shelves, but I didn’t know what to take. Boxes of nails and ammunition, or tools?
“Is it another poltergeist?”
Priest shook his head, blond hair hanging in his eyes. “Don’t know. Wanna stay and find out?”
Glass shattered, the sound echoing against the cinder block walls.
Jared burst through the sheets with Lukas and Alara. “We have to go.”
I grabbed one of the bags and ran for the door. Priest yanked the other one off the table and the handle ripped, sending screwdrivers and ammo flying across the floor. He dropped to his knees, scooping up whatever he could carry.
Metal groaned somewhere on the opposite side of the warehouse, louder than a hundred screws hitting the floor.
Alara’s eyes darted around the room. “We’re not going to be able to get out.”
Priest abandoned the broken bag. “Get the tank.”
Jared yanked a red fire extinguisher off the wall.
“On three.” He nodded at Lukas. “One, two, three.”
Lukas threw open the door, and Jared bolted outside, spraying a heavy layer of white mist around us. Within seconds, we were all covered in the sticky solution.
“Get in the van.” Lukas practically threw me inside.
Jared peeled away from the curb as Priest wiped the salt off his face.
“That was killer. I’ll have to make more of those babies.” He lifted something out of the soaked duffel. “At least I’ve got my torch. You never know when you’ll need to set something on fire.”
I hugged my knees and tried to stop shaking.
There would be no sneaking off in the middle of the night after this—not to Elle’s, or my aunt’s, or the stupid boarding school I’d never seen. The demon had already found me twice, and he’d find me again.
I watched as the warehouse grew smaller and smaller. In the space of a few seconds, it seemed impossibly far away.
Another safe place that wasn’t safe anymore.
17. MIDDLE RIVER
We’re missing a lot of gear, not to mention weapons and ammo.” Priest sat across from me in the back of the van, rummaging around in his duffel bag. He looked even younger in the colored flashes of the traffic lights.
“You can make more.” Lukas didn’t sound very convincing.
“Not without my tools and a place to work.”
Guilt twisted in my stomach. I wanted to apologize, but Jared kept stealing glances at me in the rearview mirror, silently reminding me not to say anything. Maybe there was a reason, something else I didn’t understand, like the red circles on the map and the salt line.
I watched the dark streets go by, empty except for a couple of kids huddled together, smoking cigarettes under a broken liquor store sign. Their jackets were dirty and ripped, their faces worn in less definable ways. Probably runaways.
Like me.
Alara unzipped one of the backpacks that Lukas had grabbed on the way out. “I have my grandmother’s notebook with her recipes for spells and wards, but it’ll be hard to replace the herbs and supplies. It’s not like they sell lodestones and cowrie shells at the mall.”
“We can’t go back.” Jared sounded determined. “Priest can make more weapons, and we’ll replace everything else.”
She glared at him. “You mean I’ll replace it.”
“You’re the one with the trust fund.” Lukas winked at her. “But you’re welcome to the twenty in my wallet.”
“It’s not a revolving line of credit,” she said. “I only get a certain amount every month.”
I remembered Alara mentioning that Lilburn reminded her of her house. I thought she was talking about the antiques or the chandeliers, not the actual mansion.