Edge Walkers Read Online Free PDF Page B

needed to go. Now. She had blood on her hands and she could remember screams. Something more than awful had happened. She had to get back to her lab.
    Staring at this guy, she kept her face neutral, made herself think she’d stay and be good, so he’d buy it. Years ago, she’d been able to sell the same to her father. But that was a lifetime ago. She’d reformed her habits to get through college, because she’d found something else she wanted instead of pointless rebellion against her life, her dad, and herself.
    Two more heartbeats and Gideon gave a fraction of a nod. Some emotion flickered across the shadows of his face, twisting his mouth—sorrow, loss maybe, or was it understanding? But he was still half-hidden. He moved back, and only darkness stood in front of her again.
    How long did she have?
    He had home court advantage—she had desperation. She used it, bolted, stumbled, dodged the alabaster bowl and ran, her shoes slamming on stone and cold air punching her lungs as her muscles screamed. Darkness swallowed her. God, what if she smacked into a wall? But her feet only smacked the floor. She reached tall doors and she found cold metal in her hands. She yanked hard.
    The weight tore at her shoulder, and she clenched her teeth against the burn of straining muscles. The door creaked, cracked open. A breath of ice brushed her face, the door shrieked and gave to her, flew wide. And she stared into utter desolation. Her mind reeled and tried to shut down even as the images assaulted.
    She’d seen images on the news before this—bombed buildings, scattered fires from targets hit and partially destroyed, cities torn to rubble by riots or earthquake or war. Things her father had done or ordered done. This was worse. Far worse.
    Ruined piles of jagged structures jutted up into a night sky, washed by faint, indistinct light that leaked from a cloud-covered sky. At her feet a street pock-marked by gaping holes stretched into a night left inky except for pockets of tall flame. Natural gas for fuel, she guessed—that accounted for the blue in the dancing yellow. She’d watched fires burn at oil refineries. The destruction was pretty refined here, too, and her mind reeled from the certain knowledge battering her senses.
    No, not Kansas. Not even close. He hadn’t lied. Not about anything.
    Body numb, mind blank, she stood there, trembling. No lies meant the others had to be dead—he’d said one of the guys had become a husk and that couldn’t be good. They were dead—and she’d lost everything.
    She bit her lower lip—hard. She wanted to fall to her knees. Her chest ached with a sob she wouldn’t let out. Something snagged her waist, whirled her around and Carrie jerked back in reaction.
     

CHAPTER FOUR
    Carrie, crossing? Yes, that surprised me. But…that’s not what matters now. You have to listen to me—you have to listen to Carrie, because if they—what? They, who? Who do you think, for god’s sake? Who the hell have we been talking about for the last six hours? The Edge Walkers, dammit. And don’t you dare think you can fight them and end up with anything more than your own destruction. — Excerpt Interview with Gideon Chant
    Carrie hit back, struck sharp rib with her elbow and knew it had to be Gideon holding her. She let loose, let the fractured grief spill, kicking and squirming and cursing and crying. Arms wrapped around her, stopped her hits from having enough force to do more than bounce off hardened muscle. His weight pressing into her stopped her kicks, but not her curses, and not the tears starting to spill.
    Muttering soft, Gideon told her not to do this. He grabbed her wrists and dragged her back inside. Her back hit stone and the length of him pressed into her, anchored her. He was stronger than she’d expected. And hard. Too hard in some places, and that stopped her faster than anything else, left her mind skittering with yet another shock.
    Panting, gasping, her face damp and her body