pierced the window on the far end of the room. The humans threw themselves to the floor.
“You’re cornered, Thorn! Why not save us a few minutes of blowing out that window and open those doors now, huh?”
Thorn realized that Marcus was right. He’d planned to barricade the window with the large conference table in the room’s center, but that would only hold the demons off for so long. He needed a new strategy.
“Tim, can I have your knife?” Thorn asked with Virgil’s voice.
“Uh, sure. What for?”
Thorn took the knife from Tim and motioned for Brandon to follow him to the doors. “Brandon, come here.”
Brandon obliged. Beside the huge doors, Thorn spoke loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. “They’re gonna break through that window, and they’re gonna get in here. But I have a plan. I think I can reason with them.”
“What’s the plan?” Brandon asked.
“Look, you heard them call our names. They want us for some reason. They want us alive. So I need you to go out there with me, as my hostage.”
“No way,” Heather said. “Uh-uh.”
“I don’t have time to explain, but this is our only chance. If we stay in here, we’re dead.” As if to illustrate his point, more bullets shot through the glass. A large piece of the window’s upper left corner fell inward. It shattered against the thin carpet.
Thorn grabbed Brandon’s shoulder to reacquire his attention. “Brandon, I want you to know that no matter what happens, I will not intentionally hurt you, or anyone in this room.”
Brandon’s eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?”
I made a promise yesterday, that I would find a way to save all of you. I intend to keep that promise now. Before Thorn could think of an adequate response, even more bullets pierced the glass.
“I say go for it,” Tim said. “But I’ll be your hostage.”
“No, I’ll do it,” Brandon said, looking at Heather. “We’ve got no other choice, hon.”
“Okay, okay,” she said. She embraced him, pressed their lips together, then averted her eyes as Thorn clutched Brandon’s hands and pulled them firmly behind the boy’s back.
“I’m really trusting you with this, Virgil,” Brandon said. “I don’t want to die. I don’t want any of us to die. Don’t screw this up.”
Thorn nodded, then slid the knife up to Brandon’s throat.
5
Marcus raised the gun in the woman’s—Shannon’s—dead hands the instant he saw Thorn exit onto the small interior balcony above him. Shooting Virgil would do nothing, and Marcus wasn’t about to shoot Brandon—that would ruin his objectives even further. But Marcus needed to appear threatening, for Thorn’s sake. The arrogant fool always thought he had the high ground. No matter. Marcus had put him in his place before, and he’d do it again.
“I’ll kill him!” Thorn called with Virgil’s voice, holding a knife to Brandon’s throat. “I swear I’ll do it!” He continued, limiting his voice to the spirit realm: “Then Brandon will be off getting tested in another Sanctuary. I might even be able to pick off Heather on my way out.”
Manipulating Shannon’s legs to walk, Marcus backed up to the front doors, still chained shut, to get a better view of Thorn and his captive. “Look at you,” Marcus said in the spirit realm, in the most confident voice he could muster. “A rat in a maze.”
Thorn’s eyes darted around the lobby, at the other demons and the human detritus at their feet. He’s worried that his bold action hasn’t fazed me. Good.
“You must realize by now that the Enemy recycles humans between Sanctuaries,” Thorn said, leaving Virgil’s larynx silent. “If I kill Brandon here, he won’t stay dead.”
This now-obvious fact had alarmed Marcus when Wanderer had told him of it, but the Enemy was a cunning adversary. His “recycling” of humans was nothing more than a cruel trick to spite demonkind. Wanderer had always told Marcus to avoid Sanctuaries, and now
“You’re cornered, Thorn! Why not save us a few minutes of blowing out that window and open those doors now, huh?”
Thorn realized that Marcus was right. He’d planned to barricade the window with the large conference table in the room’s center, but that would only hold the demons off for so long. He needed a new strategy.
“Tim, can I have your knife?” Thorn asked with Virgil’s voice.
“Uh, sure. What for?”
Thorn took the knife from Tim and motioned for Brandon to follow him to the doors. “Brandon, come here.”
Brandon obliged. Beside the huge doors, Thorn spoke loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. “They’re gonna break through that window, and they’re gonna get in here. But I have a plan. I think I can reason with them.”
“What’s the plan?” Brandon asked.
“Look, you heard them call our names. They want us for some reason. They want us alive. So I need you to go out there with me, as my hostage.”
“No way,” Heather said. “Uh-uh.”
“I don’t have time to explain, but this is our only chance. If we stay in here, we’re dead.” As if to illustrate his point, more bullets shot through the glass. A large piece of the window’s upper left corner fell inward. It shattered against the thin carpet.
Thorn grabbed Brandon’s shoulder to reacquire his attention. “Brandon, I want you to know that no matter what happens, I will not intentionally hurt you, or anyone in this room.”
Brandon’s eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?”
I made a promise yesterday, that I would find a way to save all of you. I intend to keep that promise now. Before Thorn could think of an adequate response, even more bullets pierced the glass.
“I say go for it,” Tim said. “But I’ll be your hostage.”
“No, I’ll do it,” Brandon said, looking at Heather. “We’ve got no other choice, hon.”
“Okay, okay,” she said. She embraced him, pressed their lips together, then averted her eyes as Thorn clutched Brandon’s hands and pulled them firmly behind the boy’s back.
“I’m really trusting you with this, Virgil,” Brandon said. “I don’t want to die. I don’t want any of us to die. Don’t screw this up.”
Thorn nodded, then slid the knife up to Brandon’s throat.
5
Marcus raised the gun in the woman’s—Shannon’s—dead hands the instant he saw Thorn exit onto the small interior balcony above him. Shooting Virgil would do nothing, and Marcus wasn’t about to shoot Brandon—that would ruin his objectives even further. But Marcus needed to appear threatening, for Thorn’s sake. The arrogant fool always thought he had the high ground. No matter. Marcus had put him in his place before, and he’d do it again.
“I’ll kill him!” Thorn called with Virgil’s voice, holding a knife to Brandon’s throat. “I swear I’ll do it!” He continued, limiting his voice to the spirit realm: “Then Brandon will be off getting tested in another Sanctuary. I might even be able to pick off Heather on my way out.”
Manipulating Shannon’s legs to walk, Marcus backed up to the front doors, still chained shut, to get a better view of Thorn and his captive. “Look at you,” Marcus said in the spirit realm, in the most confident voice he could muster. “A rat in a maze.”
Thorn’s eyes darted around the lobby, at the other demons and the human detritus at their feet. He’s worried that his bold action hasn’t fazed me. Good.
“You must realize by now that the Enemy recycles humans between Sanctuaries,” Thorn said, leaving Virgil’s larynx silent. “If I kill Brandon here, he won’t stay dead.”
This now-obvious fact had alarmed Marcus when Wanderer had told him of it, but the Enemy was a cunning adversary. His “recycling” of humans was nothing more than a cruel trick to spite demonkind. Wanderer had always told Marcus to avoid Sanctuaries, and now
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