“I don’t think we want to go that way,” I said.
“Where are the other exits?” Nathaniel asked.
“There’s another pedestrian walkway going over to the lakeside center,” I said. “Or we can try to get into the Metra tunnel and follow the tracks for a while, but the tracks terminate at Randolph and we’d be right in the epicenter of the horde. Plus, the tunnel goes away pretty quickly and we’d be out in the open.”
“It does not seem wise to put ourselves in a position where we might be trapped in a tunnel,” Nathaniel said.
“We have to take the same chance either way. If we go into the pedestrian bridge, we’ll have several feet where we have no way to escape if there are vamps ahead and behind. If we go into the Metra tunnel, we’ll be underground until it comes out of McCormick Place.”
“And then we will be exposed.”
I didn’t need to see Nathaniel’s face to know that he was brooding. I didn’t particularly like our choices—or our chances—either.
I had no wings. Nathaniel’s wing was broken. My magic was burned out for the time being, and we had no way to call for help. Most annoyingly, I could sense that Lucifer was somewhere out of touch again. The snake tattoo on my right palm had been very quiet for some time now. I wondered, as always, where Lucifer went on these occasions. Puck had said that the Morningstar was going somewhere he should not. What secrets of the universe were closed off to a being as powerful as Lucifer?
“It seems wisest to move toward the lake,” Nathaniel said finally, his quiet voice breaking my reverie. “The vampires appear to be avoiding the shoreline.”
“Why?” I said. “Is there any truth to that old chestnut about vampires and running water?”
“Obviously not, since they crossed the bridge over the Chicago River with ease,” he said. “But they do not like the lake, it seems. I observed that none of them came close to it as we flew over the city.”
Nathaniel’s hand found mine in the darkness, and I let him hold it. I didn’t want to get separated.
The convention center seemed so large and empty as we crossed through it, a relic from a time that had passed and might never return. How could the world go on as it had been before everyone knew that vampires existed? How long would it be before other things-that-went-bump-in-the-night decided not to hide their existence anymore?
We paused as we reached the pedestrian tunnel that crossed to the lakeside center. The passage yawned into the darkness. Nathaniel squeezed my hand.
“I cannot sense the vampires any longer,” he said. “They may have rejoined the horde.”
He dropped the veil. It was a waste of energy if we didn’t need it.
“I can’t believe the death of one of their own would go unnoticed,” I said as we stepped into the tunnel.
The bridge crossed over Lake Shore Drive and was lined with windows. The flurry of activity that we had seen that morning had long since ended. Cars sat lined up bumper to bumper. Their occupants had either been eaten by the vampires or fled successfully on foot.
My palms were sweaty. The air inside the tunnel was stale and hot despite the cold outside. I was afraid, and it was a terrible shock to realize this. I’d faced many enemies, and been many times outnumbered. I’d defeated plenty of powerful foes, much to their shock and mine.
But I didn’t have my wings anymore, and my magic was quiet. I had a child to protect. I’d never felt more vulnerable. The dark had become a place of lurking nightmares, and I wasn’t sure I could overcome them.
We reached the lakeside center without incident. But my dread only intensified. My luck was not that good. I’d never been able to hide from the monster in the closet. My monster always came out to try to eat my head.
“You must calm yourself,” Nathaniel said softly. “I can feel your blood pulsing through your hand. If I can detect it, then the vampires will be able to as well. They are bred to detect weakness, to feed upon distress.”
“I know,” I said, and my voice didn’t sound like my own. I could hear the strain and the panic. I was panicking. I never panicked.
“You are not yourself,” Nathaniel said, and scooped me up like a baby in his arms.
“You c-c-can’t,” I said. “How will you fight if you’re holding me?”
“Shh,” Nathaniel said. “I do not sense any threat nearby, but you will draw one to us if you continue to behave thus.”
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” I whispered. I could feel my heartstone inside my chest, pulsing hot, but my skin was cold.
“I suspect that you are exhausted and, if you will forgive me for saying so, in the grip of your hormones,” he said. He moved swiftly through the dark, descending to street level.
“You think this is happening because I’m pregnant? Is it normal for pregnant women to have panic attacks?”
“Is it normal for a part-human to carry the child of a creature that was half-nephilim? Is it normal for a pregnant woman to run all over the city fighting demons and vampires and then spend hours watching over me when she ought to be sleeping?” He sounded angry with himself for spending so much time resting.
We emerged from the lakeside center by a small walkway that connected to the lakefront path. There was a bike rack with a rusty bike frame attached to it just in front of the doors. Both of the bike’s wheels were missing.
To the north of us was the museum campus. I could see the dome of the Adler Planetarium on its jetty protruding into the lake, and the distinctive bowl of the Soldier Field. The Field Museum and the Shedd Aquarium lay beyond, and farther past was the beautiful skyline of my city.