Page 25 of Circle of Death
Maddy and Deva follow the throbbing music to the central dance floor, set in a room surrounded by marble arches. The walls are marked with huge, pale patches.
“Where the hell are we?” Deva shouts.
“Used to be a museum,” Maddy shouts back. “But the last regime stole all the art!”
The swell of the crowd pushes them forward. The energy is insane. The sound bounces off the stone and vibrates through the floor. Maddy is thinking this is what it must be like to be inside a jet engine. Or an active volcano.
Some dancers move in pairs, but most are just soloing, gyrating and grinding with anybody and everybody in proximity, forming a living mosaic of faces and bodies. Maddy closes her eyes and spins next to Deva, arms over her head. She jumps and bounces and tosses her hips. When she looks again, Deva is several yards away, spinning in an adjacent vortex.
Now a new group swings into Maddy’s orbit. A tiny girl with maroon-tinted hair pulls a guy by his belt. She moves with the grace of a ballerina. He’s thick and muscle-bound, and taller than his partner by half a foot. His sweaty face is just inches from Maddy’s. She can feel the heat radiating from his torso. She tries to avoid his pumping arms, but he takes up a lot of space. Then Maddy realizes that he’s looking at her.Staringat her.
The guy grabs the maroon-haired girl by the waist. He pulls her close, yelling into her ear. Now the girl is looking at Maddy, too. Maddy spies Deva across the floor and tries to slip through the crowd toward her.
“It’s you!” the guy shouts. He’s pointing at Maddy, jabbing his finger toward her, almost touching her head. “I knew it!”
Now he’s tugging at other dancers. They start looking, too. The guy won’t let up.
“It’s her! Right?” Slowly, the crowd starts to circle around Maddy. She’s feeling trapped.
“Times Square!” a girl shouts.
“Lightning!” shouts another.
Maddy spins left and right, feeling the pressure all around her. Now she gets it. The battle with Khan. The spectators. Hiding in buildings, cowering behind cars. Some of them saw her face. It was the most spectacular event of their lives, and she was at the center of it.
The music is still pulsing, but the dancing has just about stopped. Now people are reaching for Maddy, grabbing at her. “We love you!” She feels like she’s about to be torn apart for souvenirs. Deva is just a few feet away now. Maddy grabs her hand. Deva looks excited, then terrified.
“Shoot a bolt for us!” a man yells.
Maddy ducks her head, hooks Deva’s arm, and spears her way through the crowd. Behind her, the shouts grow. “Light-ning! Light-ning!”
Maddy shoves her way to the door and pushes it open. The cool night air hits her like a blast. Deva stumbles along behind her.
Maddy looks left, then right.
Moe!Where’s Moe? Did he wimp out and head home after all?
The crowd surges out of the club behind them. Maddy pulls Deva down the driveway, just a few yards ahead of the crazed fans. Suddenly, they’re hit by the glare of headlights heading right toward them.
The limo pulls up and stops with a jolt. Maddy yanks the rear door open and shoves Deva onto the backseat, then jumps in after her. She slams the door as the crowd surges around the vehicle. She kicks the back of the front seat.
“I hear you’re a great driver, Moe!Proveit!”
CHAPTER 27
PLAY. PAUSE. REWIND. Replay.
I’m in my study on the second floor, looking at the Destroyer video again, searching for clues. As if I’m going to see something I missed the first hundred times. It’s no use. Same blood. Same bodies. Same horror. I click the player off and rub my eyes. I look up at the clock. Two a.m.? Is that possible?
I turn out the lights and walk upstairs to Maddy’s room for a bed check. I open the door gently and peek in. The bed is empty. I’m irritated. No.Angry.This is the second curfew she’s blown through in a week.Where is shethistime,I wonder. I close the door and step back into the hallway.
Wait. Now that I think about it, where iseverybody?
I left them all down in the parlor a few hours ago, but I never heard anyone coming upstairs. Margo never goes to bed without telling me.Never.
As I start down the main staircase, something makes my neck hairs start prickling. I can’t explain it, but something’s off. That’s not a secret power. Just simple human instinct. I jump down the rest of the steps and head into the kitchen. Empty. When I turn the corner into the front parlor—my heart stops.
I spot Margo first. She’s lying on the floor, not moving. There’s a shattered martini glass by her hand. I swing right. I see Jessica. She’s lying on the carpet by the fireplace next to Bando, both of them as still as death. Burbank is slumped in a chair in the corner, with a shiny stream of saliva running down his chin.
