Dark Stars Danielle Rollins (pdf ebook reader TXT) 📖

only inches from Dorothy’s own. Dorothy could see nothing of her appearance, nothing except for two black, emotionless eyes.

Regan lowered her voice to a purr, like she was speaking to a lover. “Who are you working with, little Fox?”

Dorothy closed her mouth and then opened it again. “I’m working . . . with Princess Mary,” she managed to choke out.

Regan’s black eyes narrowed behind her mask. She drew her arm back, and Dorothy braced herself for the feel of the harsh wood against her feet—

And then the hotel room door crashed open, and a bullet whizzed past her cheek, close enough that she felt the burn of gunpowder flare across her skin. Donovan and Eliza released their hold on her, swearing as they took cover and reached for their own guns. Dorothy had just enough time to lift one hand to her face before the air filled with gunfire.

Blast. She rolled off the mattress and came to a crouch in the narrow space between the bed and the wall, heart hammering in her chest. There was an initial rush of bullets, and then brittle silence fell over the room like a layer of ash.

Dorothy braced herself, waiting. She didn’t know who was on the other side of the wall, or what they wanted from her. To be perfectly honest, she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to know. This spot right here, hidden behind the bed, this was perfectly fine with her, thank you very much. She closed her eyes and exhaled, silently, through her mouth. At least down here no one was shooting at her or torturing her.

But one minute became two and then—damn it to hell—her curiosity got the better of her. She was Quinn Fox, for God’s sake. She couldn’t be found crouching behind this bed, hiding like a child.

Exhaling, slowly, she moved out from behind the bed—

The boy from the parking garage stood in the middle of the room, his back to her. From her position on the floor, Dorothy could make out the beaten leather of his jacket and the smooth fabric of his trousers, but nothing else. His hair was dark, much darker than Ash’s, and he seemed to be wearing it in braids.

Getting no more information from the boy, Dorothy allowed her eyes to tick off other people in the room. Eliza was crouching behind a chair, and from beneath the bathroom door Dorothy saw the tips of boots that, if she had to guess, she would say belonged to Donovan. Mac and Regan were nowhere to be seen.

Movement caught her eye. She looked up and saw that the boy had turned, and now he was looking at her.

Only it wasn’t a boy at all—it was Zora.

Dorothy’s eyes fell closed. Of course. Professor Walker was Zora’s father. Zora had helped build the time machine. She would know how to fly it.

When she opened her eyes again, Zora was staring at her.

“Duck,” she said calmly.

Before Dorothy could react, the floor in front of her exploded. She crawled backward, swearing. There was another crack of a bullet—this one whizzing past her face—and then Dorothy saw Mac crawl out from behind the other side of the bed, trying to make it to the door. He was feet away when Zora flew at him, slamming him to the ground. Mac coughed, hard, and tried to push himself up, but Zora was still on his back, one arm braced against his neck and the base of his skull. Mac threw his head back, his skull connecting with her face. Zora grunted, a spray of blood flying from her mouth.

“Start running, you idiot!” she snarled. She still had an arm angled across Mac’s back.

Dorothy leaped to her feet—

Eliza was instantly on her. She curled an arm around Dorothy’s neck and tried to drag her backward, but Dorothy hurled herself to the side, sending Eliza rolling across the bed and crashing into the opposite wall. She was seeing stars, and her arms and legs felt like jelly, but she made herself push up to hands and knees, blinking. She needed weapons. She needed—

Oh God. The EM.

Dorothy crawled for the bathroom, ignoring the gunshots crisscrossing over her head. She threw the door open, and Donovan let out a surprised yelp!

“How are you doing?” she said, nodding at him. Before he could react, she’d thrown the door beneath the sink open and snatched the EM and Roman’s dagger. To Donovan, she added, “Have a pleasant evening.”

Zora was suddenly behind her, gripping her arm and dragging her to her feet. “Let’s go,” she said, “or do you expect me to hold off your enemies forever?”

The two of them crashed into the hall, sparing no time to see whether they were being followed.

“This way!” Dorothy shouted. She thudded down the back stairs as fast as her feet could carry her, and then it was through the hotel kitchens and out a delivery door that she happened to know was no longer in use.

There was a rickety dock out back, she knew, but she felt her heart sink as she slammed through the door and out into the cold.

It was foggier than she’d prepared for, and a thick cloud cover had crept over the stars and the moon. It wasn’t just dark, it was dark as pitch, dark as oil. She couldn’t see a thing. Where were they supposed to go now?

A headlight flashed on, breaking up the darkness.

“There’s our ride,” Zora said, crashing through the door behind her. “Watch your head.”

Dorothy ducked a second before a Cirkus Freak she didn’t recognize tumbled onto the docks after them. Mac must’ve called for reinforcements.

Zora fired, sending an explosion of wood and water crashing up around them. Dorothy swallowed and took a step backward. Her grip on Roman’s dagger tightened.

The Cirkus Freak stood, drawing his own gun. Zora let another bullet loose, and it hit the Freak in the shoulder, knocking him back. He groaned and dropped to his knees just as three others appeared in the doorway behind him. They