It wasn’t long before a murky shadow appeared ahead. Outside, it was still the middle of the night, so the overwhelming artificial lights of the city were bleeding into the sewer.

  When we finally emerged onto the banks of the Thames, squeezing through the rusted grate that blocked the exit, I breathed in the clear air and scraped my boots against the stony shore. Thank goodness the tide was out, otherwise we’d have to swim.

  “What now?” Jackson asked, staring up at the starry sky.

  “We find somewhere to regroup,” I replied. “Wherever that is.”

  “I know a place,” Wilder said, tossing his phone into the water. The Naturals might be supernatural, but it didn’t mean they didn’t know how to wrangle technology. “But it’s on the other side of the city.”

  “Great. It isn’t like everyone’s looking for us or anything.”

  “Calm your farm, Purples,” he drawled. “We’ll be safe there. No amount of Light will be able to find us once we’re inside.”

  “Where is this magical place?” Jackson asked, narrowing his eyes. “Narnia?”

  “No,” Wilder said, walking off, “Finsbury Park.”

  11

  Staring at the empty lot, I blinked.

  Jackson stood next to me, looking perplexed, and Wilder just seemed proud of his accomplishments. I hoped the was one epic glamour because the grass was at least a metre high—and probably home to various critters and creepy crawlies I didn’t want to believe existed.

  Once we’d found our way across the Thames, we’d hitched a ride in a cab all the way to Finsbury Park. Technically it was Harringay, but the line between locals was so blurry, it didn’t seem to matter. Anyway, Wilder had used alteration on the driver, otherwise he’d remember us, but I suspected it had more to do with the guy refusing the fare because we reeked of you know what.

  “Are we camping?” Jackson drawled. “Because it looks to me that your fancy hideout doesn’t exist. Unless it’s an underground bunker.”

  “There are a lot of old World War II-era air raid shelters hidden around the city,” Wilder said. “You’d be surprised.”

  “Please don’t tell me this is one of them,” I said. “I need a hot shower.”

  Wilder rolled his eyes. “Of course not. I’m not a Neanderthal.”

  “Could’ve fooled me,” Jackson muttered under his breath, earning himself a sharp elbow in the ribs from me.

  Luckily for him, Wilder didn’t hear. The Natural strode forwards, climbed a set of invisible stairs, and lifted his hand. To our surprise, a door opened in front of him, revealing the interior of a house.

  I drew in a sharp breath. “It’s glamoured.”

  Gesturing for us to follow, Wilder said, “You better come in before the neighbours see.”

  Jackson tilted from side to side in an attempt to get his head around what he was seeing. “How do I know where the steps are?”

  “Guesstimate,” I replied, feeling the way with my Natural senses.

  I brushed past Wilder as I entered the house, not at all surprised when I found the inside to be just as abrasive as the man himself. The wallpaper was peeling, the stairs were crooked, the floorboards were warped, and that was just the things I could see from where I stood.

  “Ow!”

  Turning, I was just in time to see Jackson scrambling to his feet. He’d tripped over the steps.

  “For an enhanced human, you’re pretty uncoordinated,” Wilder drawled.

  “Scarlett, you seriously like this guy?”

  I shrugged as Wilder hauled him into the house and closed the door.

  “Why wouldn’t you tell anyone about this place?” I asked as we moved into the front room. “What do you need to escape from?”

  “You’re really asking me that question?” His eyebrows rose as he flicked on the lights. “I’m the guy who was branded as demon spawn for being different.”

  “I know all about that,” Jackson drawled.

  Wilder narrowed his eyes. “I had to have someplace secret as a contingency plan. I’ve been tolerated all these years, but I always believed one day that tolerance would run out.”

  “But you’re a Natural,” I argued. “There’s no demon in you.”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “I hate to say it, but he’s right,” Jackson declared. “People can be real mean when they want to be.”

  “Wonders never cease,” Wilder drawled before shucking off his jacket.

  Glancing around the room, I took everything in. It felt like a bunch of art students from the local college rented the place. The formal living room was sparsely furnished with a mismatch of modern flatpack pieces and antique relics. The couch looked like it was nicked out of an Elizabethan-era manor house, and the coffee table was black Ikea chipboard. The rug was one of those elaborate Turkish designs, its authenticity debatable, and it was worn down to the canvas in places.

  “You don’t happen to have some spare clothes lying around?” Jackson asked, staring at the peeling wallpaper. “I’ve been stuck in these for days.”

  “There’s spare stuff in the next room,” Wilder said. “They should fit now that you’ve reached puberty and filled out some.”

  “Wilder,” I scolded.

  “I broke his arse out of the vaults, I think I’ve earned a few well-timed one-liners, Purples.”

  “Whatever,” Jackson said. “I’m just glad to get out of these clothes.” Before Wilder could reply, he pushed out of the room.

  Listening to his boots echo down the hall, I shook my head at Wilder with disapproval.

  “What?” he asked, shrugging. “He makes it too easy.”

  I didn’t say anything as he moved to the front window. I was too tired to argue and too worried about someone finding us before I had the chance to shower, let alone get my head around our next move.

  “Did you cloak the house?” I asked, watching as Wilder peered through the curtains.

  “Yeah. I’ve built it up over the years, so the cloak is so thick, nothing can see through it.”

  “Not even other Naturals?”

  “There’s a slim chance, but they’d have to know what they’re looking for.”

  It wasn’t entirely reassuring, but he seemed confident. It wasn’t like we had other options anyways.

  I stood next to him and checked out the street. Nothing moved on the orange-tinted road, and all the houses in the row were dark and silent. A mist had crept in at some point, though the sky was clear.

  “Ugh. How did we get here?” I mused, rubbing my tired eyes.

  “We walked.”

  “Ha ha, very funny.”

  Wilder smirked. “It’s my fall-back career.”

  Pressing my flushed forehead against the cool window pane, I began to dwell on how rapidly things had changed. One day I was a nobody working behind the bar at a pub, the next my best friend had been mutated by a demon and we were on the run. It was fair to say I’d never aspired to perform a jail break.

  “It’s ironic, don’t you think?” I mused out loud.

  “What is?”

  “I wanted to part of something,” I replied, my fingers brushing against my arondight blade. “But I ended up being a renegade and a fugitive. The irony.”

  “Now don’t go getting a big head, Purples.”

  “Why are you always so mean to me?” I asked, glaring at him. “Am I that much of a pain in your arse?”

  “No,” he replied, “you’re not.”

  “Then why?”

  “I suppose it’s something that’s developed from all those years of people treating me like I was a disease. After a while, you expect it from everyone.”

  “Not everyone is like that.”

  “I know.”

  “I’m not like that.” I eyed him, a flare of jealousy taking over my mouth. “Greer isn’t like that.”

  His gaze darkened. “Greer has to be impartial because of her position.”

  “Does she feel the same?”

  “Scarlett.” His tone was dangerous, and I bristled.

  “What? Even Wainthrope knew.”

  “It doesn’t mean it’s open for discussion.”

  I sighed and clamped my mouth shut. Maybe Greer couldn’t feel the same because of who she was. As the protector of the Codex, it must be frowned upon if she was fraternising with a rebellious anomaly. It was exactly who I was, so what did that make the two of us together?

  “Sorry,” I drawled, turning my gaze out over the city. “Forget about it. Just go back to calling me Purples and being a dick.”

  “You challenge authority at every step, have a smart-arse comeback for everything, have an unnatural ability to excel where you should flounder, and you’ve inspired danger and insubordination from the moment I met you.”

  I made a face. “Sounds like I should get an A-plus with honours.”

  “I’m trying to make you a better warrior, Scarlett. It’s not just about fighting with your body, it’s your mind I’m trying to hone. This world isn’t easy on a good day, and it’s even worse for people like us. The head must rule over the heart.”

  “The different amongst the different.”

  He nodded. “We’ll always be fighting something. If it isn’t demons, it’s prejudice, jealousy…” he plucked at a strand of my violet hair, “those hungry for power.” Like Julius Wainthrope. “The days of reckless risk taking are over, Purples. This war—”

  “You don’t have to say it,” I said, turning so he was forced to drop the strand of hair he was stroking. “We’ve taken the first steps into the End Times.” Capitalised, because it was the dawning of a new age.

  Wilder grunted and turned his glare onto the street below. I followed his gaze, my Light fizzing around the edges. We’d never had much of a chance to practice at the Sanctum, let alone talk about what’d happened at our first training session. Now wasn’t the greatest time to bring it up, but there never was a dull moment of late.

  “We never talked about our Light,” I said. “How it seemed to melt together.” I’d used it recklessly tonight again, and I still felt like I was lacking in the control department. Reality was, I kept dabbling in things I didn’t understand, and I couldn’t afford to get soul sick now that we were on our own. “From the look on your face, I’m pretty sure that never happens.”

  “It was an anomaly,” Wilder stated. “Your Light is unpredictable because of—”

  “Arondight,” I said, my irritableness getting the better of me. “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

  “You’re also untrained, though you seem to have an irritating knack for blowing things away.”

  I snorted, covering my mouth.

  “You shouldn’t laugh, Purples.”

  “You have to admit seeing Wainthrope fly down that hallway was funny as hell.”

  His lips quirked, just a little, but he didn’t allow his amusement to show any further. Sometimes I wished he’d just let go of all the surly, but I knew it was just a deep-rooted self-preservation thing. One day, I’d get him to come out of his murky solitude.

  “Here.” He took my hand and wove his fingers through mine.

  My breath caught at the unexpected touch and I cursed silently. I couldn’t have feelings for Wilder. I mean, he had a hard-on for Greer and that made his attentions so completely unobtainable it wasn’t even funny. I was the irritating thorn in his side, and now I was the reason he was on the run from his—our—own people.

  “Try calling for your Light again,” he murmured.

  I closed my eyes, hiding my flushed cheeks behind a curtain of purple hair. Reaching inside myself, I felt the spark of my power and called it forth. Just a little. It was much easier now that I knew what to look for. Instinct was one thing, but using Light with deliberate intent was a tough skill to master.

  I felt Wilder’s silver Light flare and reached out tentatively.

  “Good,” he said. “This is better.”

  “I think I get it now,” I replied.

  The edges of my Light brushed against Wilder’s and tendrils snaked out and began to entwine. It wasn’t just me, but him as well.

  “Scarlett,” he warned.

  “I’m not doing it by myself,” I hissed.

  “Ahem.”

  I pulled my hand from Wilder’s at the sound of Jackson’s irritated cough. He stood just inside the room, smirking at us and I had to do a double-take. Tight black T-shirt, check. Black jeans with ripped knees, check. Combat boots, check. If it wasn’t for his pasty skin and wild mop of curly hair, I would’ve been looking at a creepy Wilder clone.

  “Do you really like wearing tight T-shirts?” he asked Wilder, pulling at the fabric. “Because it’s cutting off my circulation.”

  Ignoring Jackson, Wilder looked at me. “You want to go next?”

  “You go,” I replied. “I don’t trust you two together. I’m likely to come back and find you at each other’s throats.”

  He grunted and strode from the room, knocking his shoulder against Jackson’s as he went.

  I sighed, crossing my arms over my chest.

  Jackson glowered. “Irritated I caught you playing handsies with Mr. Grumpy?”

  I shook my head. “It wasn’t like that.”

  “Then what was it like? Enlighten me.” Making sure the door was closed, he moved towards me.

  “I’m trying to figure out my Light,” I fired back. “Every time I get a chance to try to control it, something or someone interrupts. At this point, it’s getting real frustrating.”

  “Sounds like the sexual tension in this place,” he drawled.

  “Jackson.”

  “Thanks for busting me out of death row, by the way.”

  My shoulders slumped. “You got that, hey?”

  “That Inquisitor guy came to see me,” he went on. “He’s got a real issue with demons. I mean, I can’t blame him, but it’s not like I ever wanted to be one.”

  “I know. Greer and Aldrich know, too.”

  “And Wilder?” He raised his eyebrows.

  “Him, too.”

  “He doesn’t like me,” he stated. “He’s very patronising, you know.”

  I shrugged. “That’s Wilder in a nutshell.”

  “You’d think we’d have something in common with the whole demon thing.”

  “I wouldn’t bring it up,” I warned. “You’re likely to get your head knocked off.”

  “By his fist or his irresistible charm?”

  I snorted and sank down onto the couch, my muscles screaming. “Oi, I’m wrecked.”

  Jackson sat beside me, smelling like spicy soap and a little Wilder-esque. “You’re not worried I’m still linked to that demon guy, are you?”

  I shook my head. “I trust Ramona. She said the ability was malformed.”

  He scrunched his nose. “Malformed?”

  “It didn’t develop right,” I explained, pushing him lightly on the arm. I was still impressed at the size of his muscles considering he didn’t do any work to get them. “The only reason you were able to see him was because she stimulated the…well, whatever it is inside you.”

  “Barry,” he declared.

  “Huh?”

  “I like to call my demon growth Barry.”

  I laughed and turned to face him, glad we were back to that easy place our relationship had always been in. “You’re so weird.”

  He smiled, his lips pulling up to one side.

  “You’ve changed,” I murmured.

  “Is that a good thing? All things considered, I mean.”

  “You seem more sure of yourself, all things considered.”

  “Scarlett…” his gaze lowered, “do you ever wonder…”

  “Wonder what?”

  He leaned forward and pressed his lips against mine, capturing me in a soft kiss. Startled, and a little caught in the moment, I fisted my hand into his T-shirt and kissed him back. His tongue caught mine and for a blistering second, I almost wished I could pretend. But then I tensed, disappointed. It was a nice kiss, I couldn’t fault him on technique, but…

  Jackson pulled back, sensing the change in my touch, his breath heavy. “That wasn’t right, was it?” he asked with a frown.

  I shook my head apologetically. “Nope.”

  The door opened and Wilder strolled in, his hair damp. Looking at us, he cocked an eyebrow.

  “What?” I made a face.

  “Shower’s free, Purples,” he said. “There’s a bed next door and one upstairs. You two choose which one you want.”

  “What about you?” I asked, shucking off my jacket.

  “I’ll be fine here.” He returned to the window, but not before flashing a strange look at Jackson.

  “What’s our next move?” Jackson asked, rising to his feet. For the first time, I realised the two men stood at the same height and their builds were similar thanks to Jackson’s enhancement. “I mean, we can’t play house for long. That demon’s not going to wait around.”

  “That’s something to worry about tomorrow,” Wilder said. “For now, get some rest.”

  Jackson nodded and placed his hand on my shoulder. “I’ll take upstairs, okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  I lingered as Jackson’s footsteps echoed up the rickety stairs to the second floor. Wilder turned, tilting his head to the side.

  “Wilder—”

  “You better get cleaned up, Purples,” he declared. “Better make it quick, though. I can’t promise there’ll be much hot water left.”

  Thankfully for him, he wasn’t in hitting distance. “Great. Thanks a lot.”

  12

  Scarlett, you have to hide, okay?

  Invisible hands smoothed down my hair. You’re so brave, sweetie.

  I jerked awake, sitting up in the unfamiliar bed with a start. My heart beat a wild rhythm in my chest and I clutched Wilder’s T-shirt against my skin. It was the same dream again. The one with my parents and the Balan demon.

  The dream where they died.

  My gaze focused on the plastered wall and the closet with the broken door. I was at Wilder’s redneck row house.

  Swinging my legs out of bed, I rose and did some stretches, wondering if the others were up.

 

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