22
SILAS
I barely have time to register what I’m seeing before Dawn takes off across the showroom and out the back door into the night. My brain isn’t working. I can’t hear her. I can’t hear anyone, not Narimi, not even the curly-haired woman with the fake fangs.
I’m useless. And I have no idea why.
I take off after Narimi, after Dawn, but Markula’s brother is faster than I would have imagined — there’s no sign of him when I emerge from the building, no trace on the stone patio. Does Dawn see him? She’s still running over the pavers, out through the wrought iron fence on the far side of the garden area. I skirt the topiaries and fly through the gates after her, but Dawn’s already stopped on the walk, the light from the streetlamp gleaming in her dark hair, her eyes wild with fury. Impo
