The vibrations inside Maelea grew at an exponential rate. She located her jacket and tugged it on.
The strip of rubber along the bottom of the window peeled free. Orpheus threw it behind him, then grasped the metal handle attached to the bottom of the window and pulled up on that too. The window opened inward, separated from the hinge above. Using both hands, Orpheus grasped the entire thing and pulled it out of the way, tossing it on the floor against the wall.
“Attention passengers,” a voice echoed over the speaker system. “The train has come to a complete stop. Please remain in your seats while we tend to the delay.”
Orpheus froze. He turned for the door.
“There’s no time!” Maelea screamed. “It’s coming now!”
“Sonofabitch stupid Siren,” Orpheus muttered as he pushed Maelea toward the window. “Go!”
Maelea grasped the window frame and climbed from the chair he’d been sitting in earlier to the window ledge. “Why aren’t they telling those poor people to get off the train?”
“Because they don’t know what we know. Now move!”
“Gods,” she whispered, “they’ll all die.”
Orpheus pushed her out the window. “Haul ass!”
Maelea closed her eyes and jumped. She smacked into the frozen snow with a grunt, rolled to her side. Pain radiated from her shoulder outward, along with the jolt of ice-crystal-coated air streaking into her lungs. But the violent shaking grabbed her attention and forced her eyes open. That and the deafening roar from somewhere above.
Orpheus was on his feet at her side before she could find her balance. He yanked her up. She jerked around and looked up at the colossal mountain, one whole section of snow dislodging and rushing down the slope with plumes of white that engulfed and devoured every boulder and tree in its path, the entire mass heading right toward the front of the train.
“Run!” Orpheus jerked her by the arm away from the river of snow.
Maelea’s legs kicked into gear and she tore after Orpheus as fast as she could. They raced past the end of the train, past humans opening their own windows and peering out at them, shouting questions. Past screams and horror-filled eyes, as understanding dawned.
The roar grew louder. She turned to look back just as the deluge of white slammed into the front four cars, devouring them in billowy clouds of powder that shot spirals and columns of snow up from the mammoth slide.
A gasp tore from her mouth. She hadn’t realized she’d stopped on the tracks some hundred yards away and was staring back at the devastation until Orpheus turned her by the shoulders to face him.
“Focus, Maelea. Take this.” He shoved the handle of a knife the size of her forearm into her hand, closed her fingers over the end. “Stay with the humans back here and keep your damn coat on.” He jerked the zipper up to her chin. “Help will be coming. I’ll be back for you.”
Her wide eyes shot from the knife to him. “Wait.” He was already jogging back toward what was left of the train. “Where are you going?”
“To find that damn Siren.”
He wove through the twenty or so people who’d managed to escape from the end of the train and were standing on the tracks, staring at the devastation with horrified expressions. They obviously hadn’t seen her yet.
Her gaze shot back to the knife, and then she turned to look down the empty track behind her. The track that shot off to the horizon and disappeared in the moonlit snow. She could run. This was her chance to escape. She took a step toward freedom, then stopped short.
Three hellhounds emerged from the trees and moved onto the tracks, their glowing red eyes blinding orbs of light far off in the distance.
***
Isadora’s pulse raced as she waited for Callia to finish her examination. Beside her, she felt her mate’s anxiety as if it were her own. The exam was routine, and she felt fine, but there was always the possibility something could go wrong, and Demetrius knew that better than anyone.
Three months into her pregnancy and he was already a bear to live with. But he was her bear, so she cut him some slack, at least this early on.
Callia lifted her hands from Isadora’s bare stomach and opened her eyes. A smile spread across the healer’s face. “Everything’s good.”
The air rushed out of Isadora’s lungs on a long breath and she smiled, looking up at Demetrius. “See? I told you, worrywart.”
Her big strong Argonaut husband scowled down at her. “There’s still six months to go, kardia.”
She knew he was worried some genetic mutation from his mother was going to seep into their baby, but she didn’t share his fear. This baby was a blessing, not a curse. And once it was born and he saw that for himself, he’d believe, just as she did.