A woman stares down at us with an expression as frazzled as her frizzy hair. “Are you from the government? You don’t look like anyone official.”
I guess we wouldn’t, not me with my vibrant turquoise hair, Raze with all his hulking brawn, or Hail with his nonchalant posture. Even though Mirage is keeping his ears and tails hidden, he’s bouncing on his feet with a mix of restless and nervous energy it’d be hard to call professional.
Hail pitches his voice upward in a dry tone. “We’re as close as you’re going to get to an authority right now. But if you’d rather we go save someone else, we can leave you alone to melt.”
“Melt?”
There’s a gasp and a whimper from somewhere beyond the windows, and the faces vanish. It only takes a minute before the first several figures hurry into the street. More pour out on both sides of the road in their wake, like a heap of raisins dumped into the porridge.
With his immense stature making him particularly visible, Raze takes the lead in pointing the humans down the road toward theoretical safety. “Just go that way, as fast as you can. Keep walking until you’re out of the darkness.”
A man in a ratty jacket points at a car parked by the curb. “We could drive out faster than walking.”
My gaze sweeps over the line of vehicles, noting the way one windshield has swirled into the roof and another’s tires have condensed into a massive lump of rubber in the middle of its undercarriage. “I, uh, don’t think that’s the best idea.”
Who knows whether they’d drive or implode?
The man follows my gaze and must come to a similar conclusion. “Right.”
“We’ll salvage everything we can!” Jonah adds. “For now, just worry about keeping yourselves safe.”
Doubt and confusion dull the currents of raspberry-cordial relief, but the hope of safety wins out. The humans set off in nervous clumps, clutching handbags and backpacks tight as if the sludge might try to mug them.
Which isn’t a totally invalid fear, because the procession has barely made it five paces before a snarling, feathered bear-piranha shadowkind charges out of an alley.
Shrieks break out through the crowd. The humans scramble out of the way, some of them stumbling over the curb.
I dash forward automatically, reaching to the swell of determination inside me. Then I remember that I can’t use my power.
Just this morning, my marked men and I discovered that I can cast out the glow of my most passionate emotions to prevent harm. But I can hardly throw around radiant beams of supernatural light without all these humans realizing something unearthly is going on.
Hail makes a subtle flick of his hand, and the shadowkind creature skids on a patch of ice that formed discreetly beneath its paws. Unfortunately, the winter fae didn’t dare outright freeze its limbs, so the beast simply spins around and careens toward one cluster of humans.
With a growl of consternation, Raze hurtles toward the creature. His fingers twitch as he must restrain the urge to extend his basilisk claws.
He rams the fish-headed feather-bear with his shoulder but only a portion of his monstrous strength. The creature merely lurches to the side when I know Raze could have flung it all the way into one of the nearby buildings if he’d let himself.
“I’ll help!” Mirage pipes up. His posture tenses with concentration.
The shadowkind creature sways and then sits down with a dazed air. It looks at its paws as if wondering what it’s doing with its life.
Apparently Mirage has used his illusionary powers to give the beast an existential crisis.
At least none of the humans can pick up on what he’s done. Those closest ease around the bizarre creature, muttering nervously to each other.
“It’s all okay now!” Mirage crows with a clap of his hands—and a flash of his teeth.
One of the women freezes and jabs her finger toward him. “That—that man hasfangs.He’s a monster too!”
A jolt of my own panic shoots through my veins. I hold out my hands. “It’s just—a fashion statement! They’re pretend, for fun. Like Halloween! You don’t have to worry.”
Several gazes in the crowd jerk toward me. Eyes widen. And all at once I notice the nervous yellowish tint that’s wavering across the haze around me.
A man swings his duffel bag around as if to shield him from me. “That one—her hair is fuckingglowing. Maybe there really are terrorist aliens—right here!”
He sprints off down the street, and the rest of the humans stampede after him with a chorus of sobs and squeals.
2
