The Downside Ghosts Series Books 1-3: Unholy Ghosts, Unholy Magic, City of Ghosts. Stacia Kane

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СКАЧАТЬ lights on in the Restricted Room and asked who was there. Instead there was only silence, clogging her ears, pressing in around her until she felt her body would collapse under the weight of it.

      Sweat beaded on her brow as she casually flipped a few pages in the book, her muscles aching from the strain of keeping her movements slow and even, as though she hadn’t heard anything. Two exits led from the library: the main one she’d used earlier, and the second one she’d used the other day when she overheard the Grand Elder and Bruce talking by the elevators.

      Talking about the fear infecting the ghosts, about their unusual behavior. Looked like she had an answer for that, at least. Ereshdiran. The presence of an entity like him would drive normal ghosts crazy.

      She’d take the amulet to the Grand Elder, tell him what was happening—No. She couldn’t, not without admitting she’d been out at Chester Airport, that a body had been found and not reported. The amulet explained clearly to anyone who could read it exactly what powered the spell.

      So would setting Slipknot’s soul free end it and send Ereshdiran back where he belonged? Or would he start feeding on her, as she’d worried originally? Her blood had fed the amulet … and it had left its little calling cards burrowing into her skin, hadn’t it, in exchange?

      Her fingers ached. She looked over and realized her knuckles were white around her pen, and that perhaps this was not the best time to start pondering the ins and outs of ritual but, instead, would be a good time to get the fuck out of the library before whoever was out there decided to make his or her presence known.

      The side exit would probably be best. She couldn’t be sure, but she thought the sounds came from the direction of the main entrance.

      Okay. Smoothly she grabbed her bag and set it on the table, slipping her pen and pad back into it while pretending she was simply looking for something. She wouldn’t be able to turn the lights in the Restricted Room off without advertising the fact that she was leaving and losing the element of surprise. The Element of Surprise had always struck her as a really good name for a band. This probably wasn’t the time for thoughts like that either, but her mind seemed to be working triple-time and she couldn’t quite catch her breath.

      So. Casual, busy, unaware. She set her bag on the floor next to her, wrapping the strap around her wrist under the table. With her left hand she flipped forward in the Guide, hoping to disguise what she’d been looking at.

      Another footstep sounded, closer this time. Her entire body ached, her muscles so tense she was surprised blood still flowed through them. They were coming—he, she, it, what ever was coming, and she couldn’t see them but she might as well have had a neon arrow over her head, and she needed to move. She’d been so stupid. So careless, and so stupid.

      Her legs shook. Go! What the fuck are you waiting for, get up and go! Go!

      Carefully she slid her chair back, keeping her gaze focused on the book in front of her, as if she was just trying to get more comfortable. They were watching, she knew, she couldn’t see them but all the same she saw them, big shapes in black with no faces, their heavy boots moving across the floor toward her, their arms outstretched to grab her, to choke her, to slide a blade into her throat—

       Go!

      This time she obeyed, ducking down and slipping off the chair. If luck was with her—what a joke, luck was never with her—they might think she was looking for something, scratching an itch.

      Of course, they might also think the perfect time to attack her was when she wasn’t looking. Crablike she scuttled across the floor, keeping her head down. The fifteen feet or so to the door had never seemed like such a great distance; now she felt like an insect running across a hockey rink in full view of a crowd.

      She reached the door and stood, not breaking her stride but speeding up, and knew immediately that her gamble had not paid off. The other feet, the other person, was running, too, their heels making loud clicking thumps across the floor as they headed for her.

      Chess yanked her knife out of her pocket as she ran, but she didn’t think she’d have a chance to use it. It just made her feel better, sharper somehow, as if she herself could become steel. She ran as fast as she could, not seeing anything but the vague outline of the side door in front of her.

      She burst through it and almost fell. The rickety stairs clanged and rattled beneath her as she raced down them, her bag thumping against her legs and threatening to trip her with every step.

      Halfway down she heard the door above her open with enough force to make the staircase shake. She didn’t dare look up. She had to keep going, once she got around the next curve she could probably jump the rest of the way …

      This she did. The impact sent pain shooting up her legs and she knew her pursuer would unfortunately follow her lead, but she had no choice. The only choices she had right now were to try and go through the chapel, or get into the elevator, plunge into the earth to the platform for the ghost train, and head for the City. Neither appealed. If she went through the chapel she might be caught, and she’d still have to run through the hall and out the front doors to the parking lot.

      On the other hand, aside from her general discomfort and dislike of the City, there was no escape from there at all. The only way out was the way back up, and she didn’t particularly want to spend the entire night there while silent ghosts stared at her and her skin went pink then white with cold. Underground … underground was never safe.

      Unless … Hadn’t Lex said something about those tunnels? How they went everywhere under Triumph City itself? That probably extended to the Church grounds, right, since before Haunted Week this had been a business district?

      At the foot of the elevator was a platform where the train waited.

      Hadn’t she seen a couple of doors down there, when she went? One of them might lead into the tunnels. And if she could get into the tunnels, despite the confusing twists and turns, she could find an exit. She knew she could. She had her compass with her, tucked into its little pocket in her bag.

      It wasn’t a great idea, but it was the only one she thought might work. She slammed her palm against the elevator button. The second or two it took for the door to open stretched out like hours while the footsteps on the staircase grew louder, and she threw herself into the car as the railing rattled and she knew her pursuer had jumped over the side.

      Just before the doors closed she saw him, a hooded figure all in black, the symbol on his chest iridescent in the glow of the safety lights, and memory clicked into place like a bullet into a chamber.

      Oh, fuck.

       Chapter Twenty-two

      “… they were not aware of the earth’s power, and so pumped their garbage through it, and dug into it for all manner of things.”

      —A History of the Old Government, Volume III: 1800–1900

      Six minutes down, six minutes up. Then six minutes back down, if he decided to follow her, which she was sure he would—why wouldn’t he, when as far as anyone knew there were no exits? Alone with one of the Lamaru—the Lamaru with their fucking precious symbol and their bloodthirsty black magic. And they’d infiltrated the Church itself, actually gotten in the building, recruited another employee like her.

      If СКАЧАТЬ