Rain in London didn’t feel like rain anymore. When it hit the pavement, it left these oily streaks, crawling right at Maya’s feet—like a nest of snakes. The man in the business suit stood dead still in the middle of the rush hour crowd. People passed right through him, like he was some kind of ghost. But to Maya, he was the only real thing left in a world that felt like it was leaking out of itself.
“Julian, get back!” Maya shouted.
She tried pushing Julian behind her, but it was like moving through molasses. She glanced at her arm, sucked in air. The black ink wasn’t only inside her—her skin was going rigid and shiny, morphing into pure ink, the same nightmare stuff she’d dreamed about.
“I’m not leaving you, Maya!” Julian grabbed her shoulders. His face was pale, eyes wide. “We finally
