Chapter 26: The Attack

The afternoon had been ordinary.

That was the strange part, later—how completely normal everything had felt right up until the moment it wasn't. Hallie had spent the day helping brides, steaming gowns, updating the appointment calendar. Margaret had left early for a doctor's appointment, trusting Hallie to lock up alone. The sky outside had been overcast, threatening rain, the kind of grey that matched her eyes.

Seth had arrived at his usual time, 6:55, with the usual coffee. They'd fallen into a rhythm over the past two weeks—he'd show up, help with closing tasks, walk her to her car. No more declarations, no more heavy conversations. Just the slow, careful work of rebuilding something neither of them quite knew how to name.

"I'm never going to be good at steaming," he said now, watching her work on a particularly delicate gown. "I've accepted this about myself."

"Acceptance is the first step."

"Toward what?"

"Toward letting me do it myself and not pretending to help."

He grinned, unbothered. "Where's the fun in that?"

Hallie shook her head, smiling despite herself. This was the dangerous part—the ease of it, the way they'd slipped back into something that felt almost like before. She knew she should be more careful, should protect herself better. But every evening with Seth chipped away at the walls she'd built, and she wasn't sure anymore if she wanted to keep rebuilding them.

The lights flickered.

Hallie looked up, frowning. "That's weird."

"Storm coming?" Seth glanced toward the windows. The sky had darkened while they worked, the clouds thickening into something ominous.

"Probably. The power's been finicky during storms ever since—"

The lights went out.

Complete darkness. The kind that swallowed everything—the gowns, the counter, Seth's face across the room. Hallie stood frozen, her heart suddenly pounding, her hand still gripping the steamer she'd been using.

"Seth?"

"Don't move." His voice was different—sharp, focused, nothing like the easy tone from moments ago. "Stay exactly where you are."

"What's wrong?" She heard the fear in her own voice. "Seth, you're scaring me."

"Just—please. Stay still."

She heard movement—his footsteps, careful and deliberate. Then a sound she couldn't identify, like something tearing, like fabric ripping but deeper, wronger. The darkness seemed to thicken around her, pressing in, and Hallie realized with dawning horror that she could hear whispers.

Not human whispers. Something else.

"Seth—"

Light exploded in the darkness.

It came from Seth's hand—no, from a sword in his hand, a blade made of pure, blazing light that illuminated the shop in stark relief. And in that light, Hallie saw them.

Creatures crawling from the shadows. Dozens of them. Black and twisted, with too many limbs and eyes that glowed red in the darkness. They moved like spiders, like smoke, like nightmares given form.

Hallie screamed.

Seth moved.

The sword cut through the nearest creature, and where it touched, the monster vanished—dissolving into nothing with a shriek that seemed to come from everywhere at once. Seth fought with a grace and brutality she'd never seen, his body moving like water, like flame, like someone who'd done this a thousand times before.

But there were too many.

For every creature he destroyed, two more crawled from the darkness. They poured from the corners, from under the fitting room doors, from the shadows cast by the gowns themselves. Seth was surrounded, his blade a blur of light, but Hallie could see him tiring, could see the creatures pressing closer.

"Seth!" She didn't know why she called out—couldn't help him, couldn't fight, couldn't do anything but watch.

One of the creatures lunged past his guard, claws raking across his arm. Seth cried out, stumbling, and more creatures surged forward. He went down, the sword flickering, and Hallie saw red—his blood, spreading across his sleeve, dark in the unsteady light.

And something in her snapped.

"STOP!"

The word tore from her throat, louder than should have been possible, layered with something she didn't understand. The creatures froze. Every single one of them, frozen in place, their red eyes turning toward her.

Seth stared at her from the floor, his face a mask of shock and pain.

Hallie didn't know what was happening. Didn't understand why the monsters were listening, why they were looking at her like she was something they recognized. But she could feel something building inside her—a pressure, a power, a darkness that matched theirs.

"Get back," she said, and her voice wasn't entirely her own.

The creatures retreated. Just slightly, just a few inches, but they moved.

Hallie took a step forward. Then another. The creatures parted before her, scrambling away like she was the thing they should fear.

"Disappear," she commanded.

And they did.

The darkness lifted. The whispers stopped. The lights flickered back on, fluorescent and ordinary, revealing a shop that looked exactly as it had before—no monsters, no claw marks, no evidence that anything had happened at all.

Except for Seth, bleeding on the floor.

And Hallie, standing in the middle of it all, shaking.

She was at his side in an instant, dropping to her knees, her hands pressing against the wound on his arm. The blood was warm and terrifying, soaking through his sleeve, through her fingers.

"Seth. Seth, look at me."

His eyes found hers—brown and dazed and full of something she couldn't name.

"What was that?" she demanded. "What were those things? What did I—" Her voice broke. "What's happening?"

Seth reached up with his good hand, cupping her face with impossible gentleness given the circumstances. "You're okay," he breathed. "You're okay. That's what matters."

"I'm not okay. There were monsters. There were monsters and I—I told them to disappear and they listened." She was crying now, tears streaming down her face. "Seth, what's happening to me?"

He pulled her close, ignoring his injured arm, holding her against his chest. His heart pounded beneath her ear, fast but steady.

"I don't know," he whispered. "But we're going to find out. Together. I promise."

"Don't make promises." The words came out broken, angry, terrified. "You don't get to make promises. Not after—"

"I know." He held her tighter. "I know. But I'm making this one anyway. I'm not leaving you again. Whatever this is, whatever you are, we face it together."

Hallie wanted to argue. Wanted to push him away, to protect herself, to retreat into the safety of solitude. But she was so tired of being alone. So tired of carrying everything by herself.

So she stayed.

They sat on the floor of the bridal shop for a long time, holding each other, while the rain finally started outside. Seth's arm stopped bleeding eventually—the wound wasn't as deep as she'd feared—but neither of them moved.

"We need to go," Seth said finally. "We need to find answers."

"Answers where?"

He hesitated. Then: "My father. He knows things. About the shadows, about the creatures, about—" He looked at her, something complicated in his eyes. "About people who can command them."

Hallie felt ice slide down her spine. "Your father? The one who—"

"The one who made me leave. Yes." He took her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. "I know you have no reason to trust him. I know you have no reason to trust me. But he's the only one who might understand what happened tonight."

Hallie thought about the creatures. The darkness. The way they'd looked at her like they recognized her.

"I'm scared," she admitted.

"I know." Seth squeezed her hand. "Me too."

She looked at him—at this boy who'd broken her heart, who'd come back into her life and turned it upside down, who was sitting on the floor of her shop with blood on his sleeve and truth in his eyes.

"Okay," she said. "We go to your father."

Seth's expression shifted—relief and fear and something that looked like hope. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. But if this is a trap, if he tries to hurt me—"

"He won't. I won't let him." His eyes were fierce. "I failed you once. I'm not doing it again."

Hallie nodded, not sure if she believed him, not sure if she believed anything anymore. But the alternative was facing this alone, and alone was the one thing she couldn't be right now.

"Let's go," she said.

They stood together, and Hallie locked up the shop with shaking hands. Outside, the rain had intensified, soaking them both in seconds. Neither of them cared.

Seth's car was where he always parked it. He opened the passenger door for her—some habits never died—and Hallie climbed in, her mind still reeling from everything she'd seen.

As he pulled away from the curb, she looked back at the shop. It looked so ordinary. So normal. Like it hadn't been the site of something impossible.

"Hallie." Seth's voice was soft. "It's going to be okay."

She wanted to believe him.

But as they drove into the night, toward answers she wasn't sure she wanted, Hallie couldn't shake the feeling that nothing would ever be okay again.

And for once, she was right.