The steel door hit the floor with a violent hiss, melting into a puddle of golden liquid that glowed, dim and angry, on the concrete. Maya didn’t move. She just stood there, frozen. Silver blood ran down her hand. She pressed it hard to her chest, trying to stop the bleeding, but it just kept coming. The people from the Chorus stayed on their knees—hundreds of them, packed into the dark parking garage. Their golden eyes caught the strange light off the molten metal, making the whole place feel unreal.
“Maya, get back!” Julian shouted. He jumped in front of her, swinging his iron pipe through the air. His hands clenched so tight his knuckles went white. He was breathing hard, wild and ragged. “If any of you touch her, I’ll—”
“Julian, stop.” Maya’s voice came out soft and steady, even thou
