Timothy’s mother was knocked back and swallowed by the gathered.
“What happened?” someone demanded of me. “What happened to the others?”
“Stay back,” the Danaan ordered. “No one touches Winter’s Blade.” He turned to me. “Get back in the car, unless you wish me to hurt these humans.”
He thought they’d hurt me, but all I saw was fear and confusion. The panacea in the air and the water obviously wasn’t enough to suppress the horror of so much death. I needed Mrs. Weiland to know Timothy had died a hero.
“Get back in the car,” the Danaan growled, his body so close it was almost touching mine.
I could feel the heat emanating off him and smell the zesty scent of whatever cologne he was wearing.
I lifted my chin and looked him square in the eyes. “No. Get out of my way.”
His eyes narrowed.
“They won’t hurt me.”
He met my gaze levelly. “If they do, I’ll be forced to hurt them.”
My stomach quivered. “And if you touch them, I’ll kill you.” My lip curled with the threat. “They don’t call me Winter’s Blade for nothing.”
He stepped aside, and the buzz of the crowd washed over me. I scanned the faces searching for Timothy’s mother.
“Mrs. Weiland? Mrs. Weiland?”
“Danika?” Her voice came from my left.
I took a deep breath and dove right into the crowd.
4
The Danaan was right behind me, his huge body a shield at my back as I searched for Timothy’s mother. Drones buzzed to my left and right, but I ignored them.
“Dani!” A hand grabbed mine, and I turned to find Timothy’s mother trying to squeeze through a gap in the crowd.
I grabbed her hand, desperate not to lose her. “Let her through.”
The people complied, and she was free. The Danaan growled, and the humans backed up, making a circle around us. I was trapped in a prison of human bodies, and maybe I should have felt a little claustrophobic, but looking into Mrs. Weiland’s eyes was like seeing Timothy all over again.
My throat grew tight then I pulled her into a hug. The hug I’d wanted to give my friend. The hug I never got to give him.
“What happened?” she asked. “Dani, how did he die?”
The memory of Timothy’s last moments surged up to fill my mind. His plea for them to kill him first to save my life. His eyes, filled with regret and so many goodbyes, just before they slit his throat.
“Dani, I need to know,” she insisted. “Please. I need to know what happened to my boy.”
My eyes pricked and burned as I pulled back and cupped her shoulders. “He was a warrior. He was brave till the last, and he saved my life.”
Her lip trembled. “He did?”
“Yes, he did. Timothy died a hero.”
A raw sob broke from her throat, and she pressed her hands to her mouth to stem the sound.
I plucked his watch from my pocket and held it out to her. “I couldn’t bring him back for you.” I squeezed my eyes shut against the sting of hot tears as an image of the Tuatha holding up Timothy’s head filled my mind. “I couldn’t bring him back, but I brought you this.”
She reached for the watch with trembling fingers. “His pocket watch. He loved that watch.”
I swallowed the lump on my throat and nodded. “I know.”
She took it and held it to her chest. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
I registered the echo of her words and looked up to finally acknowledge the holoscreen that was streaming this moment. This moment that should have been private. This moment of pain. Rage spun a tornado in my chest as an idea formed in my mind. If they were going to insist on filming me, I was going to use it to my fucking advantage.
I turned to the nearest drone and looked right into the lens. “Timothy died a hero because he saved my life. Karl died a hero, and so did Vala Neilson. They died protecting each other, fighting to survive a deadly game that should never have taken place. They were strong and courageous, and they deserved better.”
The crowd had fallen silent. I had the floor.
Behind me, static flared from the radio at the Danaan’s hip.
“Winter has the capital, but tomorrow I have to fight again in another game to keep it. Why? Because we are nothing to them. We are pawns. We are cannon fodder. We are insignificant. But only if we choose to be.”
Murmurs broke out, and I could see the knowledge blooming to life in the eyes of those closest to me.
“Danika!” The Danaan made a grab for me.
I evaded him and dove deeper into the crowd. “We have the numbers, and we can have the power.” The drones veered away, and the holoscreen died. They were trying to shut me up. Fuck them. I raised my voice. “We can protect our children from the Hunt, we can stop the needless death. We can feed our families.”
Anger and determination bloomed on faces. It was working; the crowd was waking up.
“We can—"
A low hum filled the air, then blue mist rained on the crowd up ahead. People cried out as it landed on them, clawing at their skin. Bodies began to drop. The drones swept toward us, bringing the mist.
What was this?
The Danaan grabbed me and threw me over his shoulder.
“Stop!” I battered at his back and kicked out, but he pinned my knees to his chest and broke into a run.
The crowd parted for him, and in the next moment, I was thrown into the back of the car. He slammed the door and remotely locked it.
I slapped my hands to the glass, looking out as the mist descended on the people.
The Danaan got into the car and slammed his door shut.
I punched the screen between us. “What the fuck is this?”
“Your fault,” he growled. “This is your fault.”
He started the engine and peeled away from the screaming crowd.
I watched with my insides in knots as they fell one by one. The Tuatha had done this as a response to my speech.
My fault.
My speech.
My fucking fault.
The Danaan parked the car a few doors up from my house and sat shoulders heaving.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” he said.
“I know.”
“You were reckless.”
There was something in his tone. Pity, maybe? And a thought occurred to me.
“You could have stopped me sooner.”
He growled low in his throat. “I should have.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I needed to know.”
“Know what?”
“If you were awake.”
My skin prickled. “Awake?”
The barrier between us lowered with a whirr, and he turned his head to look at me. “That blue mist won’t kill humans. It hurts like a bitch, knocks them out, but they’ll wake up with no memory of it. They’ll go home, and they’ll drink the water and breathe the air, and they’ll go back to being sleepers.”
Oh god. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because you’re one of the immune.”
Was this a trick?
He sighed. “Not all of us are monsters, even though some of us might look like it.”