Chapter 27
Luvic’s roar was swallowed by the wild echo of the crowd.
The swell of their screams twisted and merged so the arena was filled with the bloodthirsty howl of a single depraved beast. Thousands rushed to their feet, rising with the noise.
The pull of it jerked me, yanking me to join in with the violent glee.
It was almost impossible to resist. I wanted to throw my fist in the air and add my voice to the vicious howl. I wanted to become one with the crowd.
I recognized this. It was the tide of emotion that birthed creatures like Winnie and carried reasonable humans into mindless hysteria.
Oftentimes, the spirit of an emotion could capture large crowds in its net.
The larger the crowd, the better. It was what caused spontaneous standing ovations, deadly stampedes, and suicide charges during war.
There was something in the human psyche that was incredibly susceptible to being subsumed by the emotion of a crowd.
If you were unlucky enough to be caught in the net, your own psyche would abdicate its individuality to become one with everyone else.
You were no longer you; you and everyone else had become the spirit of the emotion, a giant, beastly personification of awe, rage, courage, wrath, depravity.
It happened at Hell Gate sometimes—usually at one of Jagger’s feasts—but never to this scale.
Every being in the arena was jerked upright, as if on puppet strings, as they howled in tandem. The stone vibrated from the roar, and the twisted, bloody-hungry, hateful emotion pulsed through me, trying to capture me in its grip.
In the field below, Luvic landed in front of a bearded man. The man held out his flower bouquet, grinning stupidly at Luvic as if he were a Pomeranian, not a jackaltooth.
I sprinted down the stone steps, flying toward the arena. My bare feet pounded on the stone, and the Den’s oppressive heat burned my naked skin.
“Don’t!” I shouted. “Don’t, Luvic!”
He would hate himself. He would—
He ripped the man’s arm from its shoulder, spraying blood and flower petals. The man screamed, his mouth wide in anguish. The crowd’s responding shriek was deafening.
The rest of the people in the field didn’t notice. They continued tossing flowers, dancing, or waving at the crowd. What did they see? Adoring, cheering people? A city of love?
The man’s face twisted in confusion and agony, and Luvic tore his throat free.
I reached the stone wall, boosted my hands on the surface, and leaped onto the field. In my underwear and my bra. Without any weapons. I hit the spongy grass, bending my knees to absorb the shock of dropping ten feet.
The roar in the arena shuddered and swelled and shoved me toward Luvic and Last. I sprinted across the field, my heart flinging itself in front of me. Pumping my arms, I veered to intersect Luvic. He’d torn through three more people, using teeth and claws.
His mouth was foaming, and his muzzle was blood-covered. His eyes glowed orange-red. I swore, over the crowd and my heart’s pounding, I could hear the eerie jackaltooth rattling in his throat.
I didn’t know what I was going to do. I had no plan; I only knew I had to stop him.
The Luvic I knew would be horrified. If he was somehow aware of what was happening, he was horrified.
Across the field, Last spun in a circle, dizzily tossing flowers and laughing.
Luvic howled, pulling a man’s intestines free. I was only twenty feet from him. Sweat dripped down my skin, and I dragged in apple and mint scented air.
He clawed the air in front of a woman and snarled. She tossed flowers into the air.
“Luvic!” I screamed. “Stop!”
He shook his head, flinging blood from his gray fur.
Then he turned from the woman and caught sight of me.
When his orange gaze hit me, I nearly stumbled from the force of it.
His upper lip curled over his bloody teeth, and he snarled.
The hackles on his back stood on end, and in response, the hair on the back of my neck rose.
All his attention was focused on me. His eyes glowed, a bright ember suddenly blown on and violently swelling.
My muscles locked. He gave me the exact look the jackaltooth in the Bard tunnels had given me before leaping onto me and tearing me apart.
In that moment, I felt the echo of their claws tearing through my stomach, ripping at my limbs, and snapping bones before they finally—blessedly—tore out my throat.
I was only ten feet away now. Luvic was bigger than any of those jackaltooth. His muscles rippled under his fur, the tendons twisting, the muscles flexing. He crouched and then sprang through the air, shooting at me.
I saw my death in his eyes.
This wouldn’t be the first time Luvic had killed me. But it would be the last.
I braced myself, preparing for the pain of rending claws. Then, right when I felt the hot draw of Luvic’s breath scoring my throat, Justice slammed into Luvic’s side.
They rolled past me, skidding through the grass, Luvic snarling as Justice punched his knife into his side.
They somersaulted across the field, a blur of gray fur and tattooed man.
Justice jabbed Luvic’s maw. Luvic snapped at Justice’s throat, his teeth grazing his skin, sprouting blood.
Justice ducked under Luvic’s lunge and kicked the back of his hindlegs, dropping him to the ground.
Luvic swiped at Justice’s bare chest with his claws.
Four long, bloody lines swelled. Justice dropped to his knees, and Luvic lunged.
From below, Justice slammed his fist into Luvic’s throat.
He grabbed Luvic’s neck, wrapping him in a choke hold. Luvic rammed him into the ground and thrust him around, trying to dislodge him. Justice held tight, even when there was a loud crunch.
“Mari,” he shouted through gritted teeth. “What’s your plan?”
I didn’t have a plan. “Knock him out?”
“Then what? I’m not carrying this Bard out of here.” He said “Bard” like a swear word. Then added, “Do you see the crowd?”
Yeah. I saw them. They were still wild and screaming, but the tone was shifting. If we stopped their slaughter party, there was going to be hell to pay.
“Luvic!” I said, dodging as he bucked and slammed Justice against the ground again. “Luvic. Stop it! I said, stop!”
“Not working,” Justice said, wrapping his arms tighter as Luvic twisted and snapped at his throat.
Luvic bucked and managed to slide another claw down Justice’s side. Blood leaked from his abdomen, and Justice swore.
“Do you know how happy it’d make me to kill you? It’d be the best. Day. Of. My. Life.” He punched Luvic in the head—a sharp, vicious jab.
Luvic stumbled, tilting dizzily.
I darted forward and grabbed Luvic’s muzzle, holding his mouth closed even as he snarled and snapped. “No! Luvic. No!”
I filled my voice with the iron will of a Ward. With all the power that flowed inside me. All the chains and the prison walls and the mazes in my blood. I let everything that made me a Ward coat my words, and then I shoved them at Luvic.
At the low, husky, forceful notes, Luvic stilled, caught in the prison of my words. He stared at me, and I stared back. A low, whining sound ripped from his throat.
“Don’t attack Justice. Don’t hurt Last. Don’t attack me.”
He shuddered, a tremble flowing over him and rippling his fur like tall grass blowing in the breeze. I felt a prickle—a sharp, bee-sting pain in my finger. It felt like thorns gouging through me, and Luvic shuddered again.
He dropped his head. It was wide, like a bull mastiff’s, with powerful jaws and terrifying strength. He nudged my hand.
And then I knew. The bee-sting sensation faded, but Luvic held still.
When Luvic had pricked me with the bee brooch, I thought he’d done something to me. I thought he’d placed me under his power and made it so he was queen bee to my drone. But that wasn’t what he’d done at all.
Behind him, Justice slipped closer, preparing to knock him unconscious or—
“No!” I said, and when I did, Luvic turned and snarled at Justice. “No. It’s all right. He’s . . . he’s okay now.”
Justice narrowed his eyes, and Luvic snarled.
Then Justice stilled and tilted his head. “Mari?”
I nodded.
The arena had gone chillingly, eerily silent. The roar had been cut off, and now thousands of people were staring at us. None of them made a sound.
The slipshot tiptoed over the grass and looked at Luvic warily. “You two got a plan?”
Justice raised an eyebrow. “Yeah. We’re getting out of here.”
The slipshot cast wary eyes over the crowd. There was something terrifying about the silence and their total focus. My skin began to crawl, and the heat that puckered over me turned to sharp ice prickles.
“Why are they staring like that?” I whispered.
“Because you stopped the festival. It’s against the rules.”
“So what?” Justice said.
We started backing toward Last. She was still dizzily throwing flowers and laughing. The people in the field were the only ones who seemed unaware of the shifting mood.
“So if you break the rules, you get punished. The clouds”—Gerald pointed up at the gathering mass of black clouds pressing over the arena—“come after you. They grab you. Like tentacles. Or strings. They put on a show, and you’re their marionette.
I’ve only seen one . . . It was. . .” His face paled. “You know how to get out of here?”
I nodded. I still held onto the invisible golden rope that connected me to Finn. It led out of the arena, past the field we’d landed in, and then beyond. I had to believe it was leading me back toward him. If I followed it, I think I’d find the way out.
“Yeah. I do. Luvic?” I stared into his eyes. “Carry Last.”
There was the bee-sting prick, then his lips curled, and he bounded across the field, grabbed Last by her dress, and held her in his mouth like a mother cat holding her kitten. In seconds, he was back at our sides.
Last smiled dreamily and lay limp, hanging from his mouth. “Pretty kitty,” she said, and then she giggled.