Eye of the Storm by Emmie Mears

witch friend.  
    I'm faster than the slummoths. I catch one of them at the base of the spine, and it screeches and falls forward, hitting its face on the rear bumper of a car. I leave it for Sol, leaping to the side to rip my blade through the other remaining slummoth's neck.
    I see the bright pride on my brother's face where he still stands ready at Asher's side.  
    She straightens from her work at the wall, one hand unconsciously on her protruding belly. There aren't any symbols or anything that could mark the wall as magical. No incantations or theatrical silliness like in the movies, but from the way she gives it an approving once-over, I know she's done.
    Luna and Sol behind me radiate excitement.
    Asher looks at me, then looks at them. "I think it's your bad side everyone ought to worry about being on." She puts the last of her bottles back in her backpack and shoulders it, pointing. "Next spot is a quarter mile that way."

    The next two spots go quickly with no demon interruptions. I think of Mira, somewhere up the highway. I don't even know if they started at the north and worked south or the other way around. I wish I could feel her like I can feel the shades. Then again, she's with Saturn, who appeared after our Summit meeting just in time to join Mira's team, and from this far away I only get a spark of him.
    Seeing him alive was another tiny bit of hope, though several of the other shades are missing, too far away for me to sense.  
    The clouds feel like a ceiling above our heads, and with the sound barriers of the interstate on either side of us and the asphalt below us, I feel like we're in a hamster tunnel.  
    Lights dot the highway at intervals, little halos of yellow, but they don't do much to illuminate anything.
    Asher works at the final spot, her face grimly satisfied. She's got a smudge of sage oil across one cheek that shines with a few flecks of mica dust. Evis watches her every move, fascinated.  
    I wonder just how much magic shades can work or if it's just a Carrick thing. Maybe Carrick's mother was a witch. I've never asked him.
    Around us, the highway is much the same. The air is oppressive, full of the scent of death and the more acrid tang of gasoline. I've given up on guessing how many dead bodies surround us. The only glimmer of hope is that there aren't nearly as many bodies as there are cars. Some of these people got away somehow. How far they got, I don't know, but it's something.
    It takes Asher about five minutes to finish. She straightens up when she does, a small smile dancing on her lips. Even as she struggles somewhat ungracefully to right her balance.
    "Something amusing?" I ask her.
    "It's almost done," she says.
    "You're not finished?"
    "No, I am. I mean the rest. I can feel the other points." Asher reaches into her bag and pulls out a paper map of the city. Murmuring over it, she touches one oil-slicked finger to it, and tiny lights blaze into being on the paper, ringing the city center in pinpricks of gold. "Even without the remaining ones, we're pretty much covered. But with them, we'll have immediate warning."
    "Which ones are missing?" I step closer to get a better look at the map.  
    Instead of gesturing to the paper itself, she points up the highway. "Just that one and three others."
    Just then, I hear a scream in my mind.  
    Saturn.  
    Mira.
    I don't think. I run.  

CHAPTER ELEVEN

    North to south — that's the direction Mira and Saturn were working.  
    It means they're less than a quarter mile from us.  
    Luna and Sol are right behind me, but my desperation gives me added speed, and they can't overtake me now. The interstate curves around, keeping everything more than a few hundred feet away out of my line of sight.
    I trust Evis to protect Asher — and Asher I'm sure can take care of herself.
    Deserted cars flash by on either side of me. My feet churn, hitting asphalt and the squish of corpses alike. It takes less than thirty seconds for me to close the