The resort. Dani.
My heart slams into my ribs.
‘Go,’ Jude says. ‘Check Dani. I’ll take a team and sweep the resort grounds, get our sentries sorted.’
I make fleeting eye contact with Rafa and then duck under the table out of sight to slip into the void…and come out the other side in Jason’s suite. Maria gasps and drops the plate she’s drying. It smashes on the marble tiles. Jason and Dani turn together on the balcony. Maggie’s with them now too, her hand pressed to her chest.
‘Oh my god, you scared the—’
‘Come inside,’ I say, pushing past them to haul shut the French doors. ‘Gatekeepers.’
Maria leaps over the broken plate and grabs Dani, pulls her further into the room. ‘Close the shutters,’ she hisses.
Maggie lunges for the main window and yanks the cord, blanketing the room in shadow. It’s already darker outside than it should be and I smell rain in the air. She ducks down behind the couch with Maria and Dani and I hear their panicked breathing. Feel their fear.
Jason and I flank the French doors. Gatekeepers can’t fly, but they can shift from balcony to balcony. There’s nothing we can do to cover the glass: no blinds and no curtains. It could be a coincidence a Gatekeeper’s here at the resort. Or not.
The sky brightens again and then a gust of wind shakes the latch on the doors. Shit, it’s totally overcast now.
‘The storm’s almost here,’ Dani whispers. She’s scared. My sudden arrival hasn’t helped. I join them behind the couch.
‘You have to leave.’
‘No, Gabe,’ Dani says, gripping my wrist. Her slender fingers are warm. ‘I need to be here. So does Jason.’
‘Not right now you don’t. Jason can get you and your mum to safety. You can watch us from wherever you are and—’
‘Please don’t make me go.’
‘Dani,’ I say, impatient. ‘There’s a Gatekeeper right here, lurking around downstairs. I guarantee he’s not alone. You’re not staying. None of you are.’
‘We’re safer where you are.’
‘Baby,’ Maria whispers, ‘for once listen to sense. Even Gabe can’t protect us now.’
Maggie’s fingers are splayed on her throat. ‘What about the town?’
I tell them the plan.
‘I need to be with Mum,’ she says.
‘Of course.’ Jason crowds in. ‘We’ll take her with us.’
‘Jason, Mum and I can’t leave Pan Beach. People will notice if we don’t make it to the evacuation centre. They’ll put themselves in danger trying to find us.’
‘I’m not leaving without you.’
‘I need to be here. For Simon too.’
I touch Maggie’s wrist.
‘We could go with Maggie and her mum,’ Dani says. ‘Jason will be with us, so we’ll be safe.’
I try to mount an argument against it. Fail. ‘Fine.’ I catch Jason’s eye. ‘But the first sign of trouble, you get them to the other side of the planet. I don’t care who you have to shift in front of.’
The first charge detonates about three seconds after I arrive in the car park behind Rick’s. Car alarms start up half a second later. Followed by shouting. I weave between parked cars and sprint to the street. People are streaming in all directions from cafés and bars, trying to get away from the blast. I cross the street to the beach side to get a better view out of the way. It looks like Mick’s boys paid a visit to the surf shop on the next block down. Smoke billows through shattered windows, stinking of burning fibreglass. It’s murky enough now the streetlights have come on.
Another blast—at the opposite end of the esplanade. Screaming. Panic.
‘Gabe!’
I scan the footpath in front of Rick’s, see Micah break free from the crowd and jog across the road.
‘Sentries are in place,’ he says as he reaches me. ‘We’re running sweeps of the town and then regrouping at the end of the boardwalk near the rainforest.’
‘What about the evacuation?’
‘Mick’s made the call.’
I nod. A bomb threat plus two explosions: surely that’s enough. I glance back at the resort. I should have made sure they got out safely. But maybe the demons don’t know about Dani; if they see her with me, they’ll know she’s important. What the hell’s the best way to protect her?
Sirens now. Cop cars. Two fire trucks.
‘Come on.’ I spring over the railing to the beach, ready to shift again. Before my boots hit the sand, the air shudders from another blast. Something else has gone up in the surf shop. A mob surges across the road. Frightened drinkers and diners jostle us before I get a chance to slip into the void, gaping at the fires bookending the esplanade. A gust of wind whips past, bringing with it the promise of rain. The temperature drops a few degrees. Another flash of lightning. A heavy crash of waves.
The storm is here and the beach is crowded with humans.
Oh shit.
‘Get the others.’
Micah nods and sprints into the gloom. I follow, shifting as soon as I can duck behind a dune.
I arrive in my silent, shadowy bedroom, grab my sword and shift to Rafa’s kitchen. The shack is empty and smells of coffee, the floor littered with discarded weapon bags. I rifle through them, find a saya and two knives. I sheathe my katana and sling the strap over my head, tuck one knife into my boot, the other against my hip.
And then I’m back on the sand, not far from where I left. The wind is stronger now. More shouting further along the beach. I jog closer, see Jess pointing and shouting at Pan Beach’s bulky police sergeant, Des McIvor. He lifts the loudhailer, forcing her to step aside.
‘People, calm down.’ His voice crackles through the speaker. ‘I need all of you to make your way to the golf course. Remember the speed limits. I repeat: we are evacuating to the golf course. If you are a visitor, just follow the signs once you reach the highway.’
The crowd keeps milling, unsure. Surfers, stoners. Couples dressed for dinner. Kids holding ice-cream cones, clinging to their parents. Dozens of people. Exposed and vulnerable.
‘We are investigating what caused the—’ McIvor breaks off for a heated discussion with a silver-haired man in a crisp shirt who’s not convinced the sergeant knows what he’s doing.
Forked lightning—the beach is lit up in serial staccato flashes. I try to get an idea of how many people are here, but for a few seconds all I see is retina burn. Thunder cracks so close it reverberates in my breastbone. Another loudhailer further along the esplanade is repeating the instructions to evacuate. I reach for the hilt between my shoulderblades, touch the woven leather strap. An old habit.
A fat raindrop hits my nose. Another gust of wind, laced with salt and ozone and fear. It’s about to bucket down, and these people would rather get caught in a storm than risk going back onto the street.
No sign of Rafa or Jude or anyone else. Are the sentries still in place?
I climb the sandbank to get a better view. I’m almost at the top when my insides plummet. A split second later another flash bathes the scene in vivid light and my stomach lurches again. And again.
The beach beyond the agitated crowd isn’t empty anymore.
The long stretch of sand is filled with more demons than I’ve ever seen in my life.