Keira watched as a few guards, each carrying a bundle of sharp-tipped spears, crept toward the building. They stopped in unison about twenty yards from the Hall and began driving the spears into the ground, point first, creating a makeshift perimeter.
“It’s all my fault.” His voice was quiet. “If I hadn’t dragged you here, hadn’t been stupid enough to let the guards catch us . . . ” He stopped for a moment, pulling himself together.
“We crossed back and forth too many times in places that were too close together,” he explained. “All the rips—it’s making lace out of Darkside. This area’s too fragile now. It’s dangerous. Going in the Hall would be like walking out on thin ice. One step in the wrong place, and the whole thing might collapse.”
Keira thought of all the squeezing in and out of Darkside.
How many times had she crossed that morning? Six? Eight? Plus, Walker and Smith had crossed too. . . . Oh, sweet Jesus. She stared at the wounded building, drowning in the knowledge that she was the reason it had been ruined.
“Will they be able to fix it?” she asked.
Walker ran a hand through his curls. “It might settle where it is, if the fabric of Darkside is strong enough to hold it. There’s a chance it won’t sink any farther than that.”
Relief spread over her and Keira loosened her grip on the door handle.
“But they’ll never be able to use the building again,” Walker said. “The records . . . ” His voice was thick. “They won’t be able to get to the records. One Darkling stepping into an area that weak could destroy the whole thing. It’s happened before, in other places. Never with a Hall of Records, though.” His cheeks were ghostly pale.
Keira’s hope shattered, as broken as the bit of Darkside spread out in front of her. Only four Halls of Records in all of Darkside, and they’d destroyed one of them. That sort of tragedy wasn’t going to go unnoticed.
“The Reformers,” she whispered.
Walker nodded. “They’re going to spend the next several months consoling the Darklings—and looking for someone to hang for this.”
Keira shuddered. “But we didn’t mean to destroy it.”
“It doesn’t matter. We did. And they want us anyway, so we’re ready-made for blaming.” Everyone in Darkside had their attention pinned to the Hall of Records, which made the sudden movement toward Keira and Walker that much more noticeable. No one in Darkside was looking at them.
But Jeremy Reynolds obviously was.
Chapter Forty
THE FRONT DOOR OF the house stood open and Jeremy took a half step toward the street, shading his eyes with his hand. He had his cell phone in his other hand and he tapped it against his leg.
Keira pressed herself back against the seat, hoping the glare of the sun against the windshield was enough to keep her invisible to Jeremy. Walker just stared through the houses and past the lawns, his attention still fixed on the tragedy unfolding in his own world.
“Walker,” she whispered, as though Jeremy would somehow hear her even through the steel of the Mercedes, “he’s watching us. We have to go.”
Walker jerked around, his focus shifting away from the Hall of Records. He stared at Jeremy. Then Walker clenched his jaw and stomped on the gas pedal. In a bone-jarring second, they were racing for the stop sign at the end of the street. “I don’t like the way he looks—or the way he looks at you. At all. I’m glad you got out of his house before he saw you.”
Keira froze. Walker didn’t know. Of course. He’d been unconscious.
“Um, actually, I sort of had to go through his house again, to find you. After the guard beat you up.”
“You went into his house, alone?” Walker asked. “What were you thinking?”
Keira crossed her arms, squaring off against him. “I thought I was rescuing you. And besides, I knew I could cross over if anything happened.”
Walker pressed his head back against the head rest. “How would you have explained it if you’d up and disappeared? You’re lucky he didn’t try anything.”
Keira’s silence lasted a heartbeat too long.
Walker’s eyes cut over to her. His gaze lanced through her bravado.
“What happened?” His words were measured with restraint.
“Nothing, really. He said some stuff about how he and I should be together. And then he shoved his disgusting tongue in my mouth.”
“He what?”
“Listen, I handled it!” Keira insisted. “I got away, didn’t I? I ran out the back and crossed over into the Hall. I found you and I got us both out. That’s all that matters.”
“He could have . . . he could’ve—” Walker struggled with the words.