Page 143 of Tracking Snow

I rush to her, my knees hitting the floor. I check her body and find she’s still breathing, just knocked out.

Behind me, the fires go out in bursts. Ice buckets. Soda spray. Wet towels dragged over flame faster than I can track.

A familiar pair of worn sneakers stop in front of me. I look up at One, not sure what I expect to see, but his expression is grim and controlled.

Despite putting down every Human Against Magic supporter, protecting Rap and Geanie, there is no softness in his gaze. No emotion. This is all a mission to him.

"I am to bring you to Mother," he says, holding out a hand to me.

I have a feeling going to her means I might not come back. But that’s where my friends are. That’s where I’ll find my answers to The Seven. There’s no hesitation.

I take his hand and let him pull me up. "Take me to her."

Chapter 44

The Danger of Loving a Mama’s Boy

SNOW

My friends are all here.

Relief hits me so hard my entire body trembles.

Cinder is strapped upright against the far wall, arms pinned at her sides in white restraints, chin tipped forward like she fell asleep. Goldie is beside her, curls spilling over one shoulder, chest rising in slow, shallow breaths. Red’s head rests against the padded wall behind her, one cheek smeared with dried blood. Kiki’s lashes glitter under the fluorescent lights, her body strapped upright in a sequined dress that has no business being in a room like this. Ariel is there too, strapped in the same way, her copper hair dull under the harsh lights.

Six more people line the wall with them. I don’t know their names. A woman with pointed ears. A man with blue veins glowing faintly under his skin. A kid who can’t be older than eighteen.

No one moves.

No one opens their eyes.

"Are they—" My voice comes out thin.

One’s attention is entirely on me. "They’re alive."

Another wave of relief hits me even harder than the first. My hand finds the edge of a counter as my knees buckle. Cold metal bites into my palm. One starts toward me.

I hold up a hand.

He stops.

One had walked me from a quiet, smoking Poison Apple, the distant wail of sirens promising to arrive soon to take care of Rap and Geanie.

We made the trip in silence.

The building sat on a corner in Beacon Hill, all pale stone, black iron, and glossy windows with the ghost of removed letters on the door.

Brightpath House.

The orphanage where I grew up got shut down years ago. All my organs shrink inside me as One leads me right to it.

Instead of taking me through the front door, he brought me through a side entrance, down a private elevator, and into this room.

Behind One, three people in lab coats continue moving between stations, labeling vials and checking monitors like it's business as usual. Like this is fucking normal.

Well, except for the strategically placed five security men in suits, with pieces on their belts. I immediately received a pat down, and my daggers were confiscated and locked away in a drawer.

"You're here," a female voice edged with excitement and hunger has me turning around.