As if stirred by my thoughts, the aard-hound growls and twists its body. The blobby thing shudders and sprouts sudden fangs from its vacuum mouth.
My pulse hiccups, but I tense against the urge to panic. They’re upset because nothing makes sense and everyone’s pushing them away.
What if we gave them a real welcome?
I care about these creatures, don’t I? I want to see them thriving just like every other being from both realms.
Hail steps forward, his jaw tightening as if he’s bracing to use his magic.
“Wait.” I put all my attention on the pang of affection I can summon for these poor beasts.
The turquoise glow that beamed out of me yesterday spills forward again. I aim it at the two creatures, summoning even more tenderness and compassion for their plight.
We’re glad you’re here. We want you to stay. We’ll help you find your place.
Sorsha sucks in a breath. Hail lets out a sputter. “Well, fuck.”
Both of the creatures sprawl out on the road like cats before a hearth, but I don’t think that’s what my companions were reacting to. When I flick my gaze upward, my lips part in surprise.
My loving glow has seeped far enough to touch the edges of the rift’s shadowy flood. Where it brushes the darkness, the haze has taken on a faint glow too. The murky stuff hasn’t shrunk, but it feels thinner somehow, not so ominous.
Less like it’s about to swallow us whole.
As I stare, my light contracts back into me. The closest patch of darkness remains a bit lighter and more vibrant. I seem to have given it a cheerful makeover.
Sorsha moves closer. “That’s something, all right. I don’t suppose you have enough of that shiny power to spread it around the whole city?”
I choke on a nervous giggle. The patch of murk I’ve altered is maybe one-millionth of the whole flood. “I don’t know.”
“Well, it can’t hurt?—”
The phoenix shifter is cut off by a rolling rumble that reverberates from above. We spin around to see a huge military helicopter descending by the edge of the makeshift refugee camp—flanked by two smaller copters and with a horde of trucks and tanks approaching from farther beyond.
“Shit,” Sorsha says. “It looks like the cavalry’s arrived.”
5
Periwinkle
By the time we’ve reached the stretch of flat, grassy terrain where the helicopters are landing, a dozen army trucks and half as many tanks have already roared up around it.
A bunch of the evacuated humans drift over, looking dazed or nervous. The wave of anxiety wafting off them collides with a current of aggression emanating from the new arrivals, leaving me adrift in a sour-and-spicy soup.
Soldiers pour out of the ground vehicles, guns at the ready. One of them spots a shadowkind being with a prominent cat-like tail who’s moving between the tents and shouts, “It’s one of the mutants!”
Mutants? That’s a new one. I think I prefer “monsters,” or even “terrorist gangsters from outer space,” but there’s no time to debate with the armed figures about proper terminology. The uniformed man next to the one who shouted opens fire.
The cat-tailed woman yelps and dives into the shadows, leaving only a puff of essence behind. The rest of us flinch, even the humans.
“Where the fuck did it go?” the first soldier yells.
I’d feel more like telling him if he wasn’t looking to fill us with bullets. My stance stiffens.
Rollick pushes to the front of our increasingly frothed-up crowd with his usual air of authority—and a crackle of power I have to think the mortals can sense at least a tad.
The demon fixes the soldiers with a cool stare. “What do you think you’re doing? Everyone here is already safe—or they were until you started shooting.”
Another soldier twitches, aiming his gun at Rollick. “Are you one ofthem?”
