Broken by Shiloh Walker

ultraviolet attacks. She was listening for their humans, who had already been charmed to enter until commanded to retreat. One of them was to attempt a peaceful entrance at first—a lone person knocking and crying at the door for the help of a Good Samaritan. All the girls required was for one sympathetic, unaware occupant to open that door so a vampire could persuade him or her into permitting them admission. If that did not work, the other humans were to try to find an alternate way in, as they would be able to enter windows or other doors with the crazed strength the girls had lent them. Then they would isolate a resident and bring them to where a vampire could work their charm on a member of the attacker group.
    With this human aid, the girls would find Mrs. Jones . . . and perhaps then finish the fight with those Queenshill attackers.
    Many of the older vampires, clothed in gaping, head-covering coats, too, were staring up at the sky between the buildings, impervious to the post-midnight cold, nightdreaming to pass the time away. A distance away from Della, a similarly covered Noreen fidgeted, no doubt missing Polly, who had stayed with a few of the other schoolgirls to keep Wolfie occupied.
    Della wandered farther away from the group, where she could compose herself without anyone noticing. She was hungrier than usual, and her body growled with it. She hadn’t hunted, ripping into flesh and gnawing to the bone, for nights now. She longed for just a bite. Two.
    More.
    As she pressed her arms over her tummy, she listened to the slow, measured footfalls of the charmed humans in the near distance. They were certainly taking their time in getting to the building, and she sighed, leaning her head back.
    Then she heard it: a movement beside her, round a corner.
    She began to stand away from the wall, but she was pulled behind the corner so subtly that she doubted her mates had even noticed.
    In a flash, her hood was pushed back from her head, and something touched her temples—a brace of sorts—clamping and then sending her into a numb zone of compliance. There, she existed only in the black cove of her mind, where the snaky, warped sound of a voice echoed.
    Was it coming through whatever had been attached to her head . . . ?
    “Della,” it said.
    Fear waved over her flesh, and she couldn’t even turn round to focus on the entity that had put this captivating instrument on her.
    Yet she already had a good idea of what the creature might be. She thought of the red eyes she’d seen one night when she’d found herself too far off the main paths of the Underground—the murky fright, the quivering and oppressive air, the terror.
    But now . . . Now she didn’t feel the same slippery push against her skin and bones that she had back then.
    Out of the corner of her eye, she dared a glance. And she found just what she’d been dreading—red eyes coming from the blackness.
    A scream lodged in her throat.
    Make a sound and I’ll make you sorry, the custode said in the thickets of Della’s mind. The caretakers were known to keep guard for the Underground, though Della didn’t feel safe round them in the least, so obedience came easily. The other vampire girls would not even know the caretaker was here, as the custode s carried no scent and took such care to remain nothing more than a shadow.
    As Della sank further into the depths of her captivated mind, she answered, but only in her head.
    I won’t tell anyone you’re here .
    Good, it said. I didn’t expect to find the group of you aboveground until my partner communicated that Mihas had requested you retrieve Claudia. You tracked her here, didn’t you?
    Yes .
    The custode didn’t comment, and in that pause, Della could have sworn there was menace.
    Why? Was the caretaker angry with them for being here? Angry with all of them for getting so far into a compromising situation?
    Della panicked, thinking she should do all she could to help the custode and land on its