The Winter Long

Then Tybalt’s arms closed around me and we fell backward into the shadows, descending into the darkness that never broke. He let go of my waist as soon as we were through, his fingers locking around my right wrist, and together we ran down the Shadow Roads. I quashed my rising panic; it’s hard to panic and hold your breath at the same time, and I wouldn’t do the Luidaeg any good if I gave myself hypothermia by trying to breathe in a place where there was no good air, only the endless cold. Instead, I focused on trying to match my stride to Tybalt’s, counting his steps instead of counting the breaths that I wasn’t taking. It helped a little, and anything that helped me to survive the shadows was a good thing.

Tybalt and I emerged from the Shadow Roads and into the more mundane shadows of an alley near the Luidaeg’s apartment. Her wards prevented him from getting us any closer. I hit the ground running—or tried to, anyway. I made it four steps before the lack of air and the glimmers of frostbite at my extremities brought me to a screeching halt. I caught myself against the alley wall, coughing the ice from my lips and out of my throat. Tybalt stood nearby, wary and watching. The Shadow Roads were hard on the Cait Sidhe, but it was a difficulty that they dealt with for their entire lives. Those same Roads were still new and cruel to me, and I was reminded of that fact every time we had to use them.

“If you can run . . .” he began.

“I can run,” I said, and pushed myself away from the wall as I did just that. Tybalt paced me, close enough to leap to my defense if I triggered a booby trap, far enough away that we weren’t going to trip over each other. Running that way was almost second nature for us these days. Anything that thought we were easy pickings would find itself in an awkward situation. With enough warning, we could even—

The thought died half-formed as we came around the corner and entered the Luidaeg’s alleyway. Her door was right in front of us . . . or it should have been, anyway. I stumbled to a stop, eyes wide, and stared in disbelief.

The apartment door had been kicked in, knocking the rotten wood right off of its rusted hinges. Chunks of broken doorframe littered the front stoop. The Luidaeg had never seemed to be that worried about personal security—she maintained her wards, because that’s just what you do, but she’d never given any indication that she expected to have them challenged. I guess being an immortal water demon from the dawn of Faerie makes you a little bit careless. The life that was likely to be endangered by anyone foolish enough to break into her home wasn’t going to be hers.

“Blood,” I whispered. “I smell blood.”

“October . . .” Tybalt’s hand caught my wrist. I froze. I hadn’t even realized I’d started moving again. I couldn’t take my eyes off that gaping hole where a door should have been. “This isn’t right.”

“Oh, you think?” I tried to pull my wrist away. He didn’t let go. I turned to level a glare at him. “You need to let me go now, Tybalt. I smell blood. The Luidaeg could be hurt in there. She could need me.”

“Or she could be dead, and you could be walking headlong into the grasp of whatever killed her.” He frowned. “This is too strange and too easy and I do not like it.”

“Neither do I.” This time when I pulled away, he let go of my wrist. “We ran here because she might need us. I’m not going to run away again just because we were right.”

“I know.” His frown faded, replaced by a coldly predatory expression. I’d seen it on his face before, usually right before something got seriously hurt. “We will go slowly. We will stay together. And if I have to, I will drag you with me onto the Shadow Roads.”

“Agreed,” I said, and turned back to the hole that had once been the Luidaeg’s front door. Everything about this situation felt wrong; everything I’d ever learned about self-preservation screamed for me to turn around and run. I drew my knife.

With Tybalt to guard my back, I walked forward, into the apartment.





TEN