He paused when he saw Aidan surging out of her arms.
“Aidan,” she called out shrilly. But Saint straightened and calmly waited at the top of the escalator. Christina followed her son. Saint drew them onto the platform, his eyes running first over Christina, then Aidan, then Christina again. A long, thin cut oozed blood along his cheek. A deeper wound cut into the bulging meat of his right biceps. The ferocious quality of his gaze would have frightened Christina if it had belonged to anyone but Saint.
“Are you all right, Christina?” he demanded, his fingertips brushing her jaw. She realized blood must be smeared on her lips and wiped at her mouth hastily.
“We’re fine, but Alison…” she trailed off breathlessly.
“Alison!” Saint’s voice cracked like a whip in the silence. Christina turned around, stunned to realize she no longer heard the snarls and growls of the wolf-vampire battle at the bottom of the escalator. Only one casualty remained, sprawled on the concrete. Christina saw the wiry Mohawk and realized it was the male she’d punched earlier.
She blinked, trying to chase away the hazy sense of unreality that pervaded her awareness as she watched Alison jog up the escalator toward them. After she reached them, Christina saw the girl’s face had been drained of every trace of color, her paleness made all the more striking by the contrast of her ink black hair.
“Did they bite you?” Saint demanded.
The girl just shook her head as she looked up at him in mute shock.
“Let’s go then. We need to get out of the subway,” Saint said. He prodded Alison until she walked zombie-like in front of him.
“Aidan,” he prompted softly.
Aidan grabbed the girl’s hand, murmuring to her in a calming fashion. Christina swung around to look at Saint.
“What the hell was that all about?”
“Not now, Christina.”
“You can’t expect us to just—”
“Do you think he won’t come back, this time with more Scourge revenants?” He took a step toward her, his gaze so fierce that Christina clamped her jaw shut. He put his hand on her shoulder and pushed her toward Aidan and Alison.
“Let’s go. Move. Quickly.”
This time, Christina sensed his tension and didn’t pause to argue, despite all the questions and anxieties that spun in her head.
Christina knocked on the guestroom door, opening it after she heard Alison’s soft, “Come in.”
“Do you have everything you need?” she asked.
Alison swung her hair out of her eyes and nodded. She lay huddled in the double bed beneath the covers, her figure so slight that if it weren’t for full breasts and the sad, knowing look in her dark blue eyes, she’d resemble a child more than a young woman.
“I’ve called Marianna at Altgeld House and told her you were here with me.”
Alison’s eyes widened. “You didn’t tell her about—”
“No. I only told her we were attacked on the subway platform. I didn’t say by what. Little hard to do when I’m not so sure myself.”
Alison chuckled mirthlessly. “Yeah. I know what you mean.” She swallowed convulsively as she studied Christina. “One thing I know for certain, that guy—Teslar. He’s a psycho.”
“You figured that out, did you?”
Alison sat up on her elbows. “Christina, you heard me telling Saint about how I met Teslar, where he would take me?”
She nodded. Saint had questioned the girl extensively after Christina had sent a protesting Aidan to take a shower after they reached the coach house. Christina hadn’t wanted her son to hear. What Alison had reported had made Christina’s stomach roil. While Alison had been upset about revealing some of the details of her and Teslar’s twisted courtship, she didn’t seem to really comprehend how correct she’d been when she’d called Teslar a psycho.
Christina thanked God the girl was still alive after spending time with that monster.
Alison leaned toward her and whispered intently, “What if Saint is just as bad? They’re twins or something, right? How do you know he’s not just as much of a nightmare?”
“I just know.”