There was a sheer drop to the ground from here. Leaning over the edge into an alley far below, I saw cars rushing by, and horns blared. I could jump, but it would be ugly. It would hurt.
I gulped. There had to be another way.
Walking around the terrace, I spotted a window washing cart suspended up near the roof of the building.
If I could get to the roof, I could escape.
Taking my heels off again, I threw them one at a time, aiming for Aurev’s balcony. They each landed with a thump.
Now for me. Eyeing the ledge far above, I ran and jumped.
Hitting the edge of the concrete with a thud, my fingertips felt the corner, before I slid down into a heap again.
Ouch!
My face scratched and arms bleeding, I dusted myself off.
That would leave a mark.
Backing up to the railing and running again, I leapt up and was able to catch the edge and hook a leg over and pull myself up.
A television droned on inside the apartment. I wouldn’t have many attempts, maybe only one to get back to Aurev’s. The woman had heard me the first time.
Sucking in a breath, I almost began to run, when I noticed how a concrete wall sloped down, separating this terrace from the one next to it.
Carefully, I climbed up the concrete, trying not to look back.
When I’d made it back to my starting point, I eyed the building. There were no concrete decorative steps, nothing. The roof was at least forty feet above.
Defeated, I swept off my dirty bare feet and pulled the designer heels back on. Leaning against the concrete railing, my eyes roved the dark silhouette of the building.
Nothing.
This didn’t make sense.
Aurev always had a backup plan, an escape plan. He wouldn’t leave himself only one exit from his apartment to the helicopter pad. He would have a way to the roof from here, I had no doubt.
Once inside again, I examined the ceiling above. It was all smooth except in his closet, where the roof was lower and made up of large squares. Standing on the island dresser in the middle of the room, I reached upward but couldn’t quite touch. Jumping down, I placed a round ottoman on the leather-like granite surface top.
It wasn’t enough. The ceiling was impossibly high.
Hopping down again, I shoved the hanging clothes aside and tapped the walls.
Again nothing.
If I had a secret passageway to the roof, where would I put it?
Catching my reflection in the mirror, I pulled on the gilt edge until it popped away from the wall leaving a door set inside a cavity.
Bingo!
It opened up into a narrow spiral staircase. Hesitating, I ran back to the entryway of the apartment and grabbed my suitcase.
I wasn’t about to abandon yet another one.
The stairs led to a small landing with a heavy duty door. When I peered out, the icy New York wind hit me full in the face, almost blowing the door closed on me.
Orienting myself, I strode quickly over to the window washing cart. The controls were all electric, and once aboard, I quickly found myself speeding down the side of the building…okay, sluggishly moving down the exterior of the building.
When I’d gotten about thirty feet from the ground, the windows ended and so did the length of the cable from above. This was as low as it went.
Throwing my suitcase to the alley below, it tumbled, and one of the wheels broke off.
“Son of a…Really?” I asked aloud.
My heels in hand, I opened the gate and leaped down. This time, I landed neatly in a crouch.
Ewww…Never, ever walk around New York City in bare feet.
In winter. Was that urine over there?
Yuck.
Pulling wet wipes out of my purse, I cleaned my feet before slipping into my stilettos again.
Giving my dark angel one last chance, I dialed his number.
Again, it went straight to voice mail. After the generic greeting, I sucked in a shaky breath and spoke, “Aurev. I’m not sure what to say. Elsbet implied that what we had was a one-night stand.” My voice cracked, “I hope I’ve misunderstood this entire thing. But it scared me that you had orders to keep me locked in your apartment. I thought you would’ve told me if you were mad or wanted me in jail.” The heels of my shoes tapped loudly on the concrete as I clip-clopped my way toward the subway. “Look, I love you, but I’m not going to wait around to be put on trial. I’m not trying to build a case against Chronos; I’m trying to figure out what’s going on with OVC and Amy. I’m positive that she’s being framed and if someone in Chronos is responsible, then you should know. If you really do know, then why not just tell me.” I paused. “I know you’re keeping something from me. I hope to God that Elsbet’s full of shit because what happened last night was meaningful to me. I love you, but I can’t stay as a prisoner.”
Shaking my head, I ended the call. What more was there to say?
Making my way to the subway entrance, I pulled my broken suitcase through the entry gate and down to the platform.
Chills ran over me. This felt like running away, but I needed to know if Aurev really was the demon Elsbet made him out to be. To figure that out, I needed to find out who was behind OVC.
My eyes filled and I blinked. It couldn’t be true.
Aurev said he loved me.
The train came, and I boarded it, adrenaline running through me, making me twitchy and unable to sit. Instead, I replayed Aurev’s words to me before he’d left.
He’d laughed and told me he liked having me there.
I’d only had to go a few stops before walking over to Penn Station. I hated the ugly new building, and images of the old train station always popped into my mind, reminding me of what once had been.
Would have, could have…should have…The story of my life.
I boarded the train to Trenton.
Chapter Nineteen
Kicking my shoes off and leaning back into the couch, I groaned. Sarah pressed a cold glass of water into my hand, and I sipped it.
“Where’s Karsten?” I asked.
“He’s at corporate and won’t be back until the weekend.”
I sighed, “My God, Sarah. What a complete shit storm.”
She rubbed my jean clad knee. “You’re fine. You’ll be fine.”
We could hear Alexei on the phone in the kitchen having a rapid-fire conversation in Russian.
I exhaled loudly. I’d already told Sarah everything that had happened since our phone call. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know who to trust. Who’s telling me the truth? I’d normally choose Aurev, but then why did he have me locked inside his apartment, like a prisoner?”
“Do you really believe he’s involved in framing Amy for the disease? I just find that very hard to believe.”
Our gazes met, and I spoke, “Yeah, especially since he’s told me that Amy is his maker.”
“Hazel! You can’t just drop bombs like this on me. First, you tell me that Aurev is Karsten’s maker, why that was secret, I don’t know. Next, you tell me this? What a mind fuck. I swear to God! You have to ease into shit like this. You’re gonna break my brain.”
“Sorry,” I whispered. “You were close to Amy. What does she think about the disease, does she truly believe that she came up with it?”
Sadly, Sarah nodded. “She thinks she did. But no. I couldn’t find anything in her files and notes that would indicate that she could do complex gene manipulation. OVC isn’t natural, it’s definitely been engineered, and from what I know now of Amy, she couldn’t have done it. She just doesn’t have the experience or expertise.”
“Why does she think she’s responsible?”
Sarah pursed her lips. “She did what I would call organic mutation with the diseases. She’d expose the virus to radiation or chemicals, then she’d infect either humans or moroi to see which one was the deadliest. She took that strain, grew large samples in petri dishes and then did it all over again.�
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“So, she couldn’t have…?”
Sarah cut me off, “No. OVC has too many hallmarks of a designer virus. Amy’s being framed.”
“But why? Why frame her? She’s only picking people off the fringe of society. Moroi who prey on and kill humans, humans who…” She finally shook her head.
I squeezed Sarah’s hand. “You don’t have to justify her crimes sweetie.”
“It just isn’t fair. She’s never really had a fair shake.”
Pursing my lips, I said, “Yeah. I’m sorry, I think everyone is. There’s no fairness in that. She shouldn’t have been made so young. But, people have excused her behavior for too long out of sympathy or loyalty. That’s the only reason I think the council has let her go on as long as she has.”
Sarah’s large blue eyes bore into me, “I forgive you by the way. I’m not a complete sap; I know she needed to be dealt with. I knew it would happen. I just wish I wasn’t part of it.”
Alexei strode into the room, glancing between us, the corner of his mouth curved into a smile.
“Hazel, you and I are going to Italy. You ready?” He asked.
I laughed, “Wow! Really? You’re quick.”
Folding his arms in front of his chest he raised an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t say that… I’d say good, or resourceful.” Then he paused and fished something out of a black duffel on the ground. “I have a present for you. Thought you might need this.” With a wink, he tossed a bag to me.
Shaking my head, I opened it up to find a pair of running shoes and a package of white no-show socks.
“Ha! I love it! How’d you know my size?”
He shrugged. “I’m the one who made your other shoes practical. Besides, eight is my lucky number, how could I forget?” Motioning to me, he commanded, “Come on, lace them up! We’ve got Italians to question!”
Sarah rolled her eyes at me, and I laughed, pulling a pair of socks from the bundle. Lacing the shoes up, I wished I’d had these on earlier.
Plucking my stilettoes from the ground, the Russian took them from me. “Leave these here, I don’t want you slowed down if we need to run.”
Cocking my head, I asked, “Seriously?”
His stony expression was the only reply.
Following him out to a motorcycle, I groaned. “I guess taking my suitcase is out of the question?”
Sarah stood in the doorway, “Wow, you don’t know Hazel at all, do you?” She asked him. “One suitcase is traveling light for her. Here,” she held up some keys. “I’ll drive you. Where are we going?”
“We’re going to a small airstrip, I’ll give you directions.” He glanced at his phone, “but we’ve got to go. Sasha will touch down, we board and then he’ll take off again.”
We bounded into Sarah’s Range Rover, and she shot down the street. Weaving through the industrial area, I glanced at my phone. No calls, no texts. Where was Aurev?
The buildings faded away, and a thick forest surrounded the street. After about an hour on a gravel road, we came to a small runway nestled in the trees.
Sarah drove up to the edge. Looking back at Alexei, she asked, “Will this work?”
He nodded, and we sat in silence for several moments.
“Dr. Shepard, you should probably go. My friend will be here soon; I don’t want him spooked off.”
Sarah pursed her lips. “Hazel?”
I nodded and leaned over to squeeze her shoulder and kiss her cheek. “I love you, sweetie.”
She squeezed my hands in her own. “Nothing is going to happen to you. You’re going to be fine. This all has to be a misunderstanding.”
Her words nearly undid me. Sarah and I had been through so much together. I’d brought her into the Clan as a scrawny fourteen-year-old. I’d given her my blood for years to stave off a horrible genetic disease. I’d turned her, making her a moroi after the birth of her son had gone wrong.
I held her to me and kissed her cheek again, now wet with tears.
“Why do I feel like this is goodbye?” She asked.
“It’s not.” I sniffed and wiped her face with my monogrammed kerchief.
“I love you, Hazel. I know I’ve been difficult and full of spit and vinegar, as you say, but you’ve always been here for me…Thank you.”
I smiled and blinked away my own tears.
Alexei cursed in Russian, and I laughed, motioning to Sarah, “You’d better go. Take care of yourself.”
“You too,” she told me.
As soon as the Russian and I were out and closed our doors, my little doctor sped away.
At the entrance to the gravel road, I caught Sarah’s gaze in the rearview mirror. Then she was gone and a cloud of dust was the only sign that she’d been there.
I shivered, and Alexei held his arms open. “Come on, you’re trembling,” he laughed. “I’ve never known a moroi to be cold.”
“Well, I’m an inside cat, I suppose.”
He unzipped his down jacket, and I snaked my arms around his chest. His skin felt hot, and his fiery human scent made my fangs ache in my gums. Resting my head on his chest, I closed my eyes.
It wasn’t the Russian on my mind, but Aurev.
Our night together had been the most mind-blowing night of my life.
His hands on my skin.
His black eyes piercing my soul.
I’d thought we’d forged a connection more profound than I could’ve ever imagined. But it all might have been a lie.
Sniffing, I breathed in Alexei, my heart broken.
We stood like that for more than an hour until a dull roar of an engine sounded in the distance, we both examined the sky.
We watched as the small propeller plane wobbled its way down to the runway where it landed, rolling to a stop on the other end.
Alexei shot away from me like a gun, running toward the plane. “Come on!” He yelled at me.
Putting my new shoes to use, I took off and quickly caught him as we neared the small plane. The door was opened and an older rugged human bounded down the steps, yelling in Russian.
“This must be Sasha,” I murmured.
Next to me, the Russian beamed a happy smile and chatted with the older man before saying my name and motioning in my direction.
Sasha gave me a cursory up and down glance before nodding to the plane.
“We have to go, come on.” Alexei motioned for me to enter the plane first.
I hustled up the steps and nearly groaned in misery. The interior of the aircraft was packed with bundles of large, sturdy plastic bags that were held back by a cargo net. There was one tiny jump seat with a safety harness and the two pilot seats.
Once inside, Sasha closed the door and took his seat in the cockpit.
Poking Alexei in the ribs, I whispered, “Will this thing even make it to Europe?” I asked doubtfully.
“Look, you don’t have a passport. Take it or leave it.” He stumbled a bit as the plane began to move. “Too late. You want the cockpit or here?”
“I don’t care, it’s fine. Just…”
He laughed at me. “Oh, so spoiled. Flying all the time in that Chronos plane. You know other clans have nicknamed it Airforce One or my favorite, the Death Star.”
Pursing my lips, I narrowed my eyes at him. “Really?”
Nodding, a silent laugh shook his chest. “Go ahead, sit up front. We can switch later.”
Careful to not touch anything, I left my broken suitcase next to Alexei and sat down in the other captain’s chair.
Sasha gave me a look that could kill. “No!” He said, while hovering his hands over the control panel.
Nodding, I said, “I won’t touch anything.”
“Ne trogay nichego!”
Alexei leaned in, “That means…”
“I get the drift,” I told him. “I won’t touch anything.”
“See, Russian isn’t so hard to learn, eh?”
His cheeky grin made the corners of my mouth twitch with mirth. But the heaviness in my heart would
n’t allow the smile to reach my lips.
After several hours overland, we touched down on a dark lone runway. Snowy fields surrounded us along with a small hanger and fuel tank. The Canadian flag whipped in the wind.
“Where are we?” I asked Alexei when he hopped out of the plane.
“Fuel stop,” he told me, lighting his cigarette and cupping the flame from the wind.
“You shouldn’t smoke, those things’ll kill you, you know?”
He shrugged. “Everybody’s got to die someday…even your lot.”
I’d retrieved my coat from my suitcase and donned it along with my New York Yankee’s cap. “Why don’t you vape, like all the others your age?”
Taking a final breath from the smoke, he flicked the butt into the snow. I gave him my best disapproval face.
“What, like all the hipsters? No thank you. I prefer to be honest about what I’m doing. Besides, how else would I get you to make that hideous expression?”
I pointed to the butt. “Go pick it up. That’s a fire hazard.”
“It’s in the snow,” he lamented, but retrieved the frozen end, dropping it into an empty soda can from the plane before throwing it away.
“Actually,” Alexei neared me, “Cigarettes are cheap in Russia. A lot cheaper. Sasha brings things into Russia and usually brings cigarettes to Europe, or America.”
“I kind of figured he must be a smuggler,” I told him.
Alexei smiled and called up to Sasha in their native tongue.
Irritated and restless, maybe I should’ve tried to fly commercially again. The trip would’ve been a hell of a lot more comfortable and quicker.
Sasha grumbled at us as he climbed down from the wing where he’d attached the fuel line.
“Toilet is there,” he pointed a gnarled finger at the rundown hanger. A single bulb hung under a metal lamp near the door.
“Come on,” my Russian told me. “I’ll walk with you.”
Alexei opened the door to the empty hanger and led the way through an unlit entry. Wandering the hallway, I examined a corkboard that listed fuel prices and weather conditions and a map. Yep, we were in northern Canada. At the end of the corridor was a single bathroom equipped with a small, grungy sink and equally filthy toilet.
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