Chapter 3

The older runners had to be called back as more bodies were found on the streets and the number of wilds sighted mounted. David’s concern for Kitt had distracted him for far too long. He cursed as he reached a street already flooded with cops, cordoned off with yellow tape, blue and red lights flashing from the cars blocking both ends. Two bodies lay on the sidewalk, looking like they’d been mauled by a pack of wolves.

A lone man, likely a coroner, remained with the bodies while the police converged at the mouth of a dark ally. One withdrew after a few moments, drying tears from his eyes with his sleeve. David probed his mind and went still as he saw the man envisioning his own little boys laying in the trash like the child they’d found.

In his mind’s eye David could see the child. Not bloody and broken with his heart ripped out. Laughing and alive, with a black cigarette held between his lips, trying to act all cool. He tripped forward, compelling the officers out of his way, his grief leaving him with just enough strength to send them to their cars, confused as to why they were here.

Skip, the tough little boy who still slept with his dinosaur. He shouldn’t have been out here. David knelt by his side, shaking his head as he pressed his hand to the small boy’s hollow chest. The blood soaking the white tank top Skip wore was already cold.

For decades, Skip had been a runner, but like the other little ones, he never left the inner sanctum of the East End and the Gun Hill Crew. The search for Kitt followed by the wild attacks had forced David to send their youngest—boys little more than babies—out further.

But they were supposed to keep to the roofs. Watch for any sign of her and report back. Skip shouldn’t have been within reach of the wilds.

Seeing the mortals attacked, Skip had probably tried to save them. He was…he had been such a brave little boy. There was a knife in his little hand covered in more blood.

“Small warrior.” David gathered Skip in his arms and stood. He kissed the boy’s cold brow. “I failed you. I should have…” He pressed his eyes shut, letting tears fall. Tears as useless to him now as he’d been to those who relied on him. “I’m sorry.”

Low growls brought his head up. He stared into the darkness as the wilds approached, looking past him at the men and women standing in the street. The officers couldn’t react, not with David absently holding them in thrall. If David didn’t protect them, they would be slaughtered.

He couldn’t bear to put Skip down. He had no choice.

“David!”

David blinked when he heard Leyla. She ran toward him, her hand on her throat as she took in the body in his arms. Her bottom lip quivered. Then went hard. She gestured to a handful of girls standing a few feet away.

“I know you said you weren’t sure about letting them back in the city, but we need them. We can’t—” Her voice hitched. She reached out to brush a blood crusted strand of hair from Skip’s cheek. “We can’t let this happen again. They can help.”

The girls were from Venom. Surprisingly, not a single one had a weapon out. They were watching David and Leyla. Waiting.

Leyla was right. They could help. They could also throw the gangs into chaos as they had before, but he wasn’t sure he cared anymore. Things couldn’t get much worse. Skip wouldn’t be the only one under his care to die tonight, but Venom could minimize the loses. And perhaps, in doing so, earn their place here.

“The wilds haven’t attacked yet. I think they’re afraid of you.” David spoke loud enough for all the girls to hear. He stepped aside as he sensed the wilds slowly retreating. “Show them why they should be.”

That was all the girls needed. They took off down the alley, looking like amazons dressed like hookers. The pain filled, animal like scream of the wilds brought David some grim satisfaction. He wanted them to suffer.

Hand on his arm, Leyla drew David to his car. She hugged herself, watching him as he lowered Skip into the backseat. “We should call all the little ones back to safety. With Venom on our side, there’s no need to risk them.”

“Yes.” David leaned against the car, feeling sick. If he’d agreed the first time Leyla had mentioned Venom, Skip would still be alive. He wasn’t sure how Leyla had come across the other girls—maybe they’d hoped she could reason with him. They’d never approached Kitt, but for all he knew, they didn’t trust her.

And if that was the reason, he couldn’t blame them.

This isn’t Kitt’s fault.

So stupid that he was still trying to convince himself of that. All on her own she’d managed to do more damage in a single day then Venom could have ever managed.