Page 39 of The Shade of Things
10
The vampire didn’t standa chance. Delilah swung the scythe in a cleanly decapitating arc, and the undead woman’s head flew past me, a half-smoked cigarette hanging from her lips before she exploded in a puff of ash.
Emmett blinked once, then twice at the dusty pile. “Nope,” he said cheerily and pulled out a hip flask.
“Don’t you dare.” I slid into Delilah’s night vision view, sending my shadow scouting in a wide circle. “You know better than to drink when it could send you into a prophecy state.”
“But—”
Eli clapped the golem on the shoulder. “You need your wits about you, bud, because we’re depending on your fighting abilities.”
Emmett puffed up and stuffed the flask back in the pocket. “You can count on me.”
Eli winked at me over his shoulder, and I smothered a smile because we’d fallen into an old parenting dynamic where I pointed out the danger and Eli appealed to their sense of pride. My ex squatted down by the grave, running a hand along the ground. “You think that vampire was spying on us?”
“Given the cigarette?” I wrinkled my nose. “She probably heard us while she was on her smoke break.”
“Right,” Eli said. “Probably came to hang out somewhere quiet between shifts. It’s an important reminder for all of us that this may feel like a video game, but the dangers aren’t relegated to scripted coding. We need to watch out for off-duty villains.”
Delilah floated back to my side, curling around me until she was a nonsentient shadow once more. No point wasting energy this early on, especially when we had no idea how long it would take to make our way through the entire game.
We reached the fence without further incident, and Emmett pushed the creaky gate open.
My heart sunk. A painfully long suspension bridge hung over a chasm whose bottom was obscured by swirling mists. We couldn’t go back, and we couldn’t see past the wall of fog on the other end of the bridge to determine what new danger we’d be walking into.
I moaned, which turned to a whimper when Emmett ran gleefully onto the bridge and jumped up and down, making it sway and buckle. I buried my face in Eli’s shirt. “You’re going to have to carry me.”
“Nope. Not doing that ever again,” he said. “You can hold the rope railing and keep your eyes closed. I’ll guide you.”
“Then make the Energizer Bunny there quit it.”
Emmett skipped back and forth along one stretch, whooping.
Rope and wooden slats attached to posts at either end were exciting in jungle adventure movies, but this was a magic space. There was no need for a bridge at all unless the Powers That Be wanted us to die on it. My logic was impeccable.
Eli whistled to get the golem’s attention and motioned him over. “Miriam is terrified of these bridges.”
Mr. Milk of Human Kindness burst out laughing, prodding me with his cane. “Is the wittle baby scared of a bwidge?”
I snatched the damn cane away. “If you don’t want to play a very painful round of ‘Where did Miriam shove this?’ you’ll zip it.”
“That’s not even a real game,” the golem grumbled and grabbed it back.
“Take her pack.” Eli helped the golem put it on, then led me onto the bridge.
It wobbled underfoot, and I sucked in a breath, tightly closing my eyes.
“Nails,” Eli said in a terse voice.
I loosened my grip on him, increasing it proportionately on the rope, and let Eli escort me across.
“Take larger steps,” Emmett said. “I’m growing old here.”
I barely heard him over the thumping of my heart. My mouth was dry, my palms sweaty.
We inched along, my hands aching from rope burn, when suddenly the bridge bounced.
“Emmett,” I snapped, my lids still screwed tightly shut. “Pull that shit one more time and you’re going over the side.”
