Chapter 10
The bond pulled on my magic.
The dark patches slowed, yes. The shell stopped creeping toward that solid, final lock. But keeping it there took focus, energy, and more of me than I wanted to admit.
I sat on Greyson’s living room floor with my back against the couch, palms damp, breathing careful.
The bond hummed under my skin, a steady pull from behind the painting.
Not a leash exactly, more like a taut thread tied from my soul to the egg.
If I relaxed too much, the tension increased. If I pushed too hard, I got dizzy.
Cal hovered like an anxious bride.
He brought me water. Then he brought me another glass, as if hydration were a spell component.
“You need to drink,” he said.
I took it because arguing felt like effort, and effort was in short supply. “If I drink any more, I’ll need a bathroom break schedule.”
Cal’s mouth twitched. “I can stand outside the door, if that helps.”
“Not really,” I said, then immediately regretted how short it sounded. The bond made everything louder inside me. My patience, my nerves, and the unwanted awareness of him that still flickered in the background like a radio station I could not quite tune out.
Cal did not take offense. He just watched me with that protective focus that made my skin prickle.
Faith stood near the door with her arms crossed and her eyes on the ward lines like she could glare them into obedience.
Nishi had taken a position by the front window, scanning the street every few minutes, then checking her phone for updates.
Eve sat at the kitchen table with her own phone, thumb moving fast as she read messages from Victor and Hunter.
Tegan paced in small loops, tracker in her hands, trying to get a clean direction without triggering the shield zone again. Every few minutes she stopped, frowned at the bone needle, then started walking like motion might intimidate it into cooperation.
Greyson stood near the painting. He looked calm if you did not count the way he kept raking a hand through his hair.
I closed my eyes for a beat and centered on the egg. On life. On warmth. On the tiny steady pulse that told me there was still a baby in there, still fighting.
The urge to cut the connection with Cal rose again, stupid and impulsive.
My instincts did not care about timing. They were apparently feral.
I forced the thought away and focused on what mattered.
The baby.
The relic.
The undead.
Nishi’s phone buzzed, and her posture snapped tighter.
“Report,” she said into the call, voice clipped.
A pause. Then her eyes narrowed.
“Where?” she demanded.
Another pause.
Nishi ended the call and looked across the room. “Ravenholde Hospital.”
The words hit the house like a thrown rock.
Eve swore softly. “No.”
Faith’s head turned. “What now?”
“There is another outbreak,” Nishi said. “Patients and staff are being attacked. Security is overwhelmed and the mundanes have their phones out.”
Of course they were filming.
I wanted to scream. There were people there who could not run. People hooked to machines. People whose bodies were already trying to fail without undead assistance.
Tegan’s face went pale. “The hospital morgue. If the dead are being called, that place is a buffet.”
Cal’s jaw tightened. “And a blood bank.”
Eve’s eyes tightened at that. “Shezmu.”
Cal nodded once. “If someone wanted blood, they picked the right building.”
Faith glanced toward the under-stair door, then toward me. “Can you move?”
I tested my breath, rolled my shoulders. The bond tugged, but it did not snap. It felt like a cable under strain, not a chain.
“I can,” I said. “I won’t love it.”
Cal stepped closer immediately, hand hovering near my shoulder as if he could steady my balance through sheer stubbornness. “You’re not going alone.”
I did not comment on how part of me liked that statement too much.
Eve grabbed her phone and called Spencer before we even finished deciding. She did not wait for him to answer before speaking.
“Spencer, it’s Eve. There is a hospital outbreak. We need Delia there now.”
A pause, then Spencer’s voice came through, tight and focused.
Eve turned slightly so we could all hear. “Mundanes are filming. People are going to die and others are going to post it. We need mind wipes.”
Another pause.
Eve exhaled. “Thank you. Hurry.”
She ended the call and looked at us. “They’re on their way.”
Faith turned Greyson. “Honey, will you stay?”
Greyson looked over his shoulder. “Of course.”
“Thank you. Someone has to keep that safe stable. If the egg starts locking again while we are gone, call us.”
Greyson’s gaze flicked to me, then to Cal, then back to Faith. “I will.”
Cal did not look happy about leaving the egg behind, even with Greyson guarding it. His attention kept drifting toward the painting as if he could feel the baby through the walls. Which he probably could.
“We do not have a choice,” I said quietly, mostly to Cal. “If we do not stop the calling, the egg stays under attack, anyway.”
Cal’s jaw worked once. Then he nodded. “Fine. But I want the safe triple sealed and monitored.”
Greyson lifted an eyebrow. “It is triple sealed.”
Cal’s gaze went flinty. “Do more.”
Greyson exhaled. “I will.”
Nishi already had her keys in hand. “We move. Now.”
I pushed myself off the floor, and the room tilted for half a second. Cal steadied me with a hand on my elbow. It was a simple touch, but the bond’s echo flared again and my body reacted like an idiot.
I tightened my grip on my own composure.
Not now.
We filed out the front door into the cold night. Nishi drove. Faith rode shotgun. Eve and Tegan climbed into the back with me, and Cal slid in beside me like he was placing himself between me and the universe.
The moment the car started moving, the bond tugged harder. Distance made it stretch, like a rubber band pulled too far. I pressed my palm to my thigh and focused on slow breathing.
Cal watched me. “Tell me if it gets worse.”
“I will,” I said, then added before I could stop myself, “but I’ll complain first. It’s my thing.”
Faith snorted from the front. “Your thing is surviving, Salima.”
We drove toward the hospital, and the city got louder the closer we got. Sirens. Flashing lights. People gathering where they should be running away.
Faith stared out the windshield, jaw tight. “What’s the point of this? Why zombies? Why public? Why the whole spectacle?”
Eve looked down at her phone, voice grim. “Because it spreads fear.”
Faith shook her head. “Or because it keeps us busy. Dagna knows we respond to outbreaks. She throws undead at the town and we chase them while she does whatever she actually wants.”
Tegan’s fingers tightened around the tracker. “That is possible.”
Nishi’s voice stayed calm. “It is likely.”
My stomach churned. “If this is a distraction, what’s the real play?”
Cal’s gaze stayed forward, expression hard. “The relic. The egg. Blood. Any one of those.”
Eve’s mouth tightened. “Or all of them.”
The hospital came into view, and the parking lot was chaos. Ambulances angled near the entrance. Police cruisers blocked lanes. A knot of mundanes stood behind a line of security guards and officers, phones raised, faces pale, mouths moving as they narrated tragedy like it was content.
Lights from the ER entrance spilled onto wet pavement, turning it into a mirror.
Nishi parked hard near the side entrance.
I climbed out slowly, the bond pulling at my ribs like I had tied a rope around my organs. Cal stayed close, one hand hovering near my back as if he could catch me if I folded.
Faith scanned the parking lot. “We need to move inside.”
Tegan’s phone buzzed. She answered quickly, voice tight. “Spencer. Where are you?”
A pause.
“Good,” she said. “We’re at the hospital. Use the side entrance, it’s less crowded.”
She ended the call, turning her gaze to us. “Delia is three minutes away.”
Three minutes was an eternity in a building full of patients.
We started toward the side entrance, and that was when Faith muttered, “This feels wrong.”
I followed her line of sight.
The air near the far end of the parking lot looked darker than it should under the floodlights. Not shadow. Something else. Like a thin film over reality.
Tegan stopped walking. Her tracker needle twitched once, then pointed toward that dark patch.
My skin prickled. “The shield zone.”
Tegan swallowed. “We’re close to the edge of it.”
Faith’s eyes narrowed. “So Dagna is operating near the hospital.”
Eve’s expression went cold. “Which means this outbreak is not random.”
Nishi’s eyes narrowed. “We need Greyson.”
Faith grabbed her own phone. “I’ll call him.”
She hit speaker.
Greyson picked up immediately, breathless. “What happened?”
Faith didn’t soften. “We’re at the hospital. Tegan’s tracker keeps dying near it. We need a way to see through it.”
Greyson went quiet for a beat. Then his voice rose. “So it is tied to the relic.”
“Probably,” Faith said. “Can you break it?”
“I can,” Greyson replied, and I could hear him moving, tools clinking. “Not fully. But I can punch a viewing hole through it for a short window. Give me ten minutes.”
“We don’t have ten,” Faith snapped.
“I can put something together,” Greyson said. “But I’m not bringing you a miracle.”
Faith exhaled. “Understood. Where do you want to meet?”
Greyson gave a location, quick and specific, near the hospital’s service road. “Do not go into the shield zone without me.”
Faith ended the call. “He’s coming.”
Nishi’s gaze stayed on the hospital doors. “We still have to clear inside.”
Eve nodded. “We split. Small team goes in to stabilize, keep patients safe until Delia arrives. We hold the perimeter and wait for Greyson.”
Faith’s eyes narrowed. “No.”
Eve looked at her. “Faith.”
Faith’s voice went hard. “Salima goes in. Cal goes in with her. If she drops, the egg suffers. If the egg suffers, we lose time and options.”
Cal’s gaze flicked to Faith, then to me, then back to the hospital. “Agreed.”
I swallowed. “I’m not fragile glass.”
Faith gave me a flat stare. “Tonight you are a very important piece of fragile glass. Stop arguing.”