“She’s gone. She’s not here anymore.”

“We can’t leave her…. She’s…”

“She’s not with us, Jim. And we have to go. To save Vin, we have to get you the fuck out of here.”

Adrian’s voice exploded from the doorway, “What the fuck is wrong with you—”

“Shut the hell up, Ad.” Eddie’s words cut through the interruption. “He doesn’t need you busting his balls right now. Jim…I want you to back out of the room.”

Jim knew the guy was right. The girl was dead, bled out like nothing but an animal, and that wasn’t the worst of it. Her frozen death mask was one of horror, as if her suffering had been great.

“Come on, Jim.”

So help him God, he knew he had to listen to the angel and force himself to accept that there was no battle to be fought here: The time for conflict and the possibility of victory had come and gone without his even being aware it existed. And he believed Eddie about the taking off part. At this moment, risking an altercation with Devina would not have been good.

Right now one-third of the team was a total head case.

Jim went to turn around, but got slapped from behind, Eddie’s huge hand catching his face and holding it where it had been.

“Keep your eyes straight ahead and back out with me. Do not move your head. Do you understand? I want you to step back with me and keep your head where it is. We’re going to back away—”

“I don’t want to leave her,” he moaned. “Oh, shit…”

Such suffering, the terror etched into the soft, pale planes of her lovely face. Where were her parents? Who was she? As he stared at the young woman’s corpse, he memorized everything about her, from the mole she had on her thigh, to the light blue of her lifeless eyes, to the pattern that had been cut into her stomach.

“She’s gone,” Eddie said softly. “Her body’s just a leftover—her soul’s not here anymore. You can’t do anything for her, and we are in a dangerous situation right now. We need to get you out of here.”

The more he looked at her though, the more his insides started screaming again and he couldn’t—

All at once, he heard a rush of noise that sounded like the feet of rodents in a sewer. It wasn’t hundreds of rats, however. The clocks had started up, every single one of them energized at precisely the same moment, the chaotic ticking of countless second hands rising up in the loft, filling the air.

Abruptly, Adrian’s voice was grim instead of angry. “We have to leave—”