Adam steeled himself. All he had to do was get past the wraith to the street. It would not attack in public and risk exposure. Street and light. Custo and the car. Safety.
He reached back to Talia with his free hand and found hers. He gripped it in a silent signal. Stay with me. As he stepped to the side, he pulled her with him, but her weight stayed at the wall.
Not a good time for her to resist. Force then. Adam traded her hand for her waist. He’d drag her if he had to.
Then the alley abruptly lightened as her body sagged into him, unconscious.
The wraith stood ten feet from them, broadly built and aggressive with an exaggerated grace. He was pale and fair, his expression ecstatic, as if caught in a moment of rapture, anticipating a feed.
Adam let Talia fall in a heap on the ground and brought the pipe up.
The wraith whirled toward him and screeched loud and high like an ancient bird. Then he lunged.
Adam swung. Connected with a hard thump.
But too low. The pipe struck the wraith at his jaw. The impact stunned, but didn’t disable.
The wraith lashed out his arm. Knocked Adam in the chest.
Adam flew back and hit the building over Talia’s limp form. His lungs screamed as all the air suddenly burst out of his body, heart arresting for a moment of agony. He fell on top of her body, rolled, and sprang to the balls of his feet. He clenched the bar. Swung again. Slammed the pipe against the bridge of the wraith’s nose with a crack, then staggered back to shield Talia.
The wraith’s face was broken and bloodied, eyes sunken and turned, without vision until he could heal.
Keep moving, Adam commanded himself. He dropped to all fours, pipe grasped in both hands, his body tabled over Talia.
The wraith lanced out blindly and hit the building where Adam had been standing, raining stucco plaster down on his back.
Adam tightened his grip on the pipe, throwing his weight and twisting to spear the wraith in the gut. The metal pierced with a sickening slide and stuck in the wraith’s ribs.
The monster screeched again. He caught Adam at the belt and shirt collar and heaved him off Talia. The shirt ripped with Adam’s weight, the cloth searing against his throat as it gave. The belt held fast and the wraith sent him spinning cockeyed back into the wall, headfirst.
Blinding pain bolted down Adam’s neck and through his jaw. His ears roared and salty blood coated his mouth. But the pile he landed on was soft. Talia, again.
Adam braced against the building and kicked back with his leg. Knocked the wraith off balance.
Two loud shots echoed out into the night.
Custo. Finally.
Physically subduing a wraith was absurd. They were too strong, regenerated too quickly to kill. Adam had learned that the hard way with Jacob a long time ago. At least the bullets would stun him momentarily, though.
The wraith crashed back into two tall plastic garbage bins. He flailed, ripped a lid off, and sent the cover flying against the building in a warped ricochet.
“I’ll take her to the car,” Adam called. His head pounded. Thick, warm moisture dripped into his right eye.
Custo responded by plugging the wraith with two more shots. The monster still twitched.
Adam cradled Talia to his chest and rounded the bend of the building. A motley group of people stared into the mouth of the alley. More than one held a phone open. To call for help or catch the fight on video?
Adam couldn’t think about the implications of the widespread panic that would follow wraith exposure now. The only thing that mattered was Talia.
The car waited down the street, beyond the gawkers. Adam shouldered his way through and limped toward the vehicle. He shifted her weight to open the back door, then gently laid her inside.
“Stay out of the alley,” Custo shouted to the gathering crowd. He burst through the group as Adam crawled in the back over Talia—careful, now—and yanked the door shut.
Custo got in the driver’s seat, jammed the key in the ignition, and sped away from the intersection.
“How bad is she?” Custo asked.
Adam wiped the blood from his forehead with his shirtsleeve. Stung, but he didn’t care. “I don’t know. Wraith didn’t touch her, but she’s burning up. She’s got heatstroke at the very least.”
“Hospital?”
Adam found the flutter of Talia’s pulse at her neck. He regarded her blonde hair, matted to stringy dun, and her overly thin face, smudged with grime. She’d obviously been through hell and hadn’t trusted her troubles to law enforcement. She’d have had a reason. The woman was nothing if not ruled by reason.
Two months missing. Two months hunted, more likely.
In the rearview mirror, red and blue police lights skated across Custo’s face.
Much better—safer—to get her back to Segue. A gamble, of course, but she’d survived this long already, she’d just have to hold out a little longer.
“Airport,” Adam decided. “We’ll see what we can do for her there before takeoff. But we can’t take too long. That wraith won’t be alone.”
FOUR