Chapter 26
We never should’ve left the city.
That was Alistair’s last thought before the door at the top of the stairs gave way and dumped them out in the heart of the West Village, at the bottom of Ackerly Green Publishing’s old front steps.
Was that how the door worked? Had she done this? Stranded them on an island of doors? Every co-op, every storefront, every alley entrance was a possible portal for the Silver to reemerge. It was true—they weren’t the Silver from the books. They were under new ownership, and they were so much worse.
It was almost 3 AM. A first snow was pelting the city, carried by a heavy, razor-sharp wind. Large, papery flakes stung Alistair’s eyes and were already piling up along the frozen sidewalks. Ben waved down six taxis before an ancient, bush-bearded cabbi
