Midnight City by J. Barton Mitchell Page A

camp.
    The question right now, though, was where the cylinder really was. If Holt could have it his way, he’d have it on him, Mira guessed. He wouldn’t want to risk actually losing it by keeping it out for her to grab.
    But the cylinder was big and bulky, not to mention heavy. As much as he might like to hang on to it, it would slow him down in a pursuit or fight.
    No, Holt would stash it somewhere. But where? What was the least likely place for that cylinder to be?
    Mira inspected the camp again, and her eyes once more found the cot. If she had fallen for his ruse and believed he was actually in that sleeping bag, the cot was the last place she would approach.
    Mira smiled. The cylinder was there. It had to be.
    But how was she going to snag it? The invisibility sphere generated by the Shroud moved wherever she went. If she got too close to the cot, it would absorb it, too. And Holt would definitely notice his cot and sleeping bag vanishing into thin air.
    But it was possible to get close enough to reach it, without the invisibility sphere touching it. She could do it, but she’d have to be careful.
    She crept toward the cot. There wasn’t much brush or other obstacles between her and it. He had chosen a clear area for the camp. She stopped just short of it … and waited.
    Mira had no way of knowing if the Shroud had absorbed the cot. To her, looking out from inside, everything was visible. It was only people looking in that couldn’t see past the ball of reflected light and air.
    Mira waited a few more seconds, listening for any sign she had been detected. But none came.
    She examined the cot again. If she were Holt, Mira would have slid the object all the way to the rear of the sleeping bag, so that it would be the most difficult to get to.
    Mira grinned and drew a knife. It would be difficult to get to only if you went in through the front.
    She reached for the rear of the sleeping bag with the knife …
    … and the cot in front of her flipped over as someone underneath it leapt to his feet.
    As he stood, Holt whistled three times … and Max exploded into the campsite, charging toward them.
    Mira scrambled backwards, hoping the Shroud would conceal her. It did … but she saw Holt turn toward her as she pushed across the ground.
    He leapt forward, hands swinging wildly. He missed her completely … but slid far enough that he passed through the edge of the Shroud’s invisibility sphere, and inside with her.
    He could see Mira now, and he looked at her with that infuriating cocky smile. “Took you long enough.”
    Mira kicked him hard in the face.
    He yelled in pain, went reeling backwards. “Hey!” he shouted in anger, holding his nose, shocked. “What the hell?”
    Mira smirked in spite of herself. That felt good. She got to her feet and ran, hoping the Shroud—
    The blue gray blur that was Max ran right into her. Whether it was intentional or the dog had just gotten lucky, it was enough to trip her up.
    Mira crashed to the ground. Instinctively, she put her hands out to break her fall. And one of those hands contained the Shroud. The artifact combination tumbled out of her grasp and rolled away in the dirt.
    Mira was now completely visible … and pretty much totally screwed.
    She tried to get to her feet, but Holt leapt on her from behind, pinned her hard to the ground. She struggled, trying to get loose, to get a leg free, to bite at his hands—anything—but he was too strong.
    Fear swelled up in her as she felt the rope circling her hands again, felt her shoulders tighten as they were locked behind her back. It was an awful thing, the simple loss of mobility, the loss of freedom.
    When she craned her neck around to glare at Holt, the smirk from before was gone. His nose was bloodied and purple, and he scowled down at her. Mira flinched as Holt pulled the ropes around her wrists extra tight. But she didn’t cry out. She wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.
    Max continued to bark and growl at