by Joshua King
"What's wrong?" I asked. "Come on. We need to go."
"I'm working on it," he said.
"Does it need a whole lot of preparation?"
"Well... kind of."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Have you ever gone to the dentist and when they called your name, you just didn't want to go back? You sat there in the waiting room waiting for your turn, but everything inside you tells you to go back outside and go home because the last time you went to the dentist, they broke your tooth with their drill and cut your gum with that pointy little metal thing. So, when they did call your name, it took everything in you to pry yourself up off the chair and follow them back, and all the time you were kind of giving yourself a pep talk in your head and convincing yourself it was all going to be okay?"
"I think it sounds like you were in very serious need of a new dentist. And possibly a malpractice attorney. But I'm understanding what you're saying."
"Good. Because that's kind of where I am right now."
"Your dentist practiced out of a subway station?"
"Not exactly, but the last time I went down into the subway, it was really the last time.”
I didn't know what he meant, and it wasn't the time for a deep exploration of his past. As much as I was curious about Bugs and what brought him here, I didn't have the time to stand on the subway steps and listen to him talk about his dentist or the subway or whatever the hell else was going on. I wrapped an arm around his shoulder and gave him a tug.
"It's going to be fine." He kept a tight hold on the handrail and shook his head. "It's going to be fine. Nothing's going to happen to you down there except we're going to get on the train and go across the city. Come on." I gave another tug, but he resisted. "Come on."
Another tug was finally successful, and we stumbled down a couple of the steps together before getting our feet under us and making our way down into the station.
“It doesn’t look like I remember it,” Bugs muttered as we approached the ticket window. “It’s different.”
“It’s the Underworld. It’s mirrored, but there are differences.”
He shook his head.
“No, it’s different. None of this looks the same.”
We were almost to the front of the line when I realized I didn’t have any money to buy passes. Aurora always had money and had been very clear there was more than enough for anything we ever needed or wanted. I was seriously going to need her to hook me up with a bag of gold or an Underworld debit card or something. As it was, I didn’t have any way to buy us passes, but I wasn’t willing to climb those steps again and walk the rest of the way across the city.
“Looks like we’re hopping the turnstiles,” I muttered to Bugs.
“We’re what?”
“Just follow me.”
We casually walked toward the turnstiles and when we were a few yards away, I took off running toward them. Bugs started after me at a slightly less impressive speed, but enough to stay close behind. I launched myself over the turnstile and Bugs sailed over after me, promptly kicking me in the middle of my back so I knocked over three people in front of me. As pissed off as I was at his lack of coordination, it turned out to be a good thing, creating enough of a chaotic distraction we were able to push our way through the crowd and slip into the waiting train. We ran through a few cars just to make sure no one was coming after us, then I tossed myself down into an empty seat. Bugs hesitated in the aisle and I grabbed him to yank him down into the seat across from me. He promptly bounced back up and I yanked him down again.
“Calm down.”
“It was the sitting, Hayden. I sat down the last time.”
“I’m pretty sure it had nothing to do with the sitting.”
He cautiously lowered himself into the seat, his legs splayed out like a baby deer’s as he seemed poised on the edge of flinging himself out of the train. After a few seconds, the train started to move and he tightened. When nothing happened, he eased back and settled into the seat, his eyes flickering around us.
“Everything’s a lot brighter,” he said. He gestured with his hands like bulbs flashing. “Shiny.”
“I don’t know if shiny has ever been the adjective that has come to mind when I thought of the subway,” I said.
He nodded and fell into silence for a few more seconds.
“Smells different, too,” he said.
“Smells is always an adjective that has come to mind when I thought of the subway.”
“See that guy?”
I began to turn around and Bugs kicked me hard in the shin. No matter how strong I got, that always seemed to hurt.
“Don’t look. If he notices me, he will remember me and then our whole plan might go up in flames. Just keep cool. Do you see him?”
“You told me not to look at him.”
“Look, but don’t let him see you looking.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Next you’re going to ask me to bring him a note from you. Do you like me? Check yes or no.”
“We never got there. Anyway, that guy, I used to work with him.”
“Before…”
“Before, yes.”
“We’re still in the Underworld.”
“Seems he made his way here, too. Doesn’t surprise me.”
He said it in such a nonchalant way it seemed like he was talking about going to the grocery store. I didn’t press the issue and instead I snuck a peek behind me to take a look at the guy Bugs was so clearly agitated about. I didn’t know what I was expecting, but what I saw certainly wasn’t it.
Sitting three seats behind me, quietly eating a turkey sandwich, half wrapped in plastic wrap, was an older man. He looked harmless enough, his hair completely white and slowly running away from the top of his head, but cropped close on the sides and back. He wore a white collared shirt and a brown tie with khaki slacks and dark brown dress shoes. He could pass for any almost-retiree heading to work at an office somewhere in the city.
“He might have been the Utica Strangler.”
I snapped back around to Bugs, expecting a smile or some indication that he was joking. Instead, he was picking at his nails, bent at the waist, and seeming completely uninterested in anything except getting his cuticles cleaned.
“Excuse me, what?”
“The guy. I think his name was Mr. Bratton. It was a while ago, and I wasn’t in the office with him for long. Anyway, I think he was the Utica Strangler.”
I looked back at the gentleman quietly eating his sandwich. A woman walked by him and he pulled his briefcase close to him with his feet to give her extra room. Nodding at her briefly, a warm smile slid across his lips. He didn’t look like he was intending on stalking her or snapping her neck with his bare hands. Maybe I had misunderstood Bugs.
“Utica Strangler? Is that a … wrestler or something?”
“No. Murderer.”
“Oh.”
A few moments passed before I realized Bugs wasn’t planning on going into any detail about this whatsoever. I knew I was going to regret it, but I had to ask.
“Why do you think that?”
“Hmm? Why do I think what?”
“That he’s a… killer?”
Bugs’s eyes widened. He snapped forward toward me.
“There’s a killer here?”
I gave a sharp point behind me.
“The guy.”
He peered around me.
“What guy?”
Oh, dear lord. This very well could be the man on whose shoulders the future of the Underworld rests.
We might be fucked.
“The guy. Behind me. The one with the sandwich. The Utica Strangler.”
“Oh, Bratton. Steven Bratton. That’s it. That’s his name.”
“And?”
“And what?”
I was about to lose my mind. Bugs had moved from cleaning his fingernails to untying and retying his shoelace. He was now on the fifth try at his only shoe.
; “Why do you think he was the Utica Strangler?”
“Oh. Well, see, he used to disappear for hours at a time, right? I’d be working at my computer and he would stand up, yawn, put his jacket on and walk out the door. Then, a couple hours later, he’d come back in, but when he did, he was always wearing a different tie. Always a different tie. He’d stroll right on in, like nothing was wrong, and sit down at his computer to work. After a while I started noticing the times he was gone coincided with the times that the Utica Strangler would kill some poor girl. It was a really big story, all over the newspapers. I tried to get the police to listen to me, but for whatever reason, they didn’t take my letters seriously.”
“Why didn’t you go in and file a report if you thought he was the guy?”
“I couldn’t go into a police station! What if someone saw me? I’d get whacked for sure. No, I had to write letters. And since I couldn’t leave any trace of it being me, I had to cut out letters from newspapers instead of actually writing them. That way no one could track it back to me. Apparently, that just made the police think that whoever was writing those letters was the killer. No matter how many of those letters I wrote, explaining who I thought it was, they just started snooping around the building looking for the person that wrote the letters. Can you believe it? I had to stop reading People Magazine all together because I couldn’t be seen holding a magazine anymore.”
I sat in stunned silence for a few moments. Slowly Bugs’ eyes seemed to glaze and his attention dropped away, going back to his shoelace. I looked back at the man again, and noticed he was gathering his things. He stood up and yawned, stretching his arms a bit before moving close to the door. When the car stopped, he got off quickly and moved through the crowds, disappearing from view.
“Bugs, you said he would disappear for hours all the time, right?”
“Hmm?”
“The guy, the guy you thought was the Utica Strangler.”
“Was the Utica Strangler. For sure.”
“Right, him. You said he would stand up, yawn, and then disappear for hours, right?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“Did he always do it at the same time, Bugs?”
“Now that you mention it, yes. Always. 5PM on the dot. And he wouldn’t be back ‘til early the next morning. Suspicious if you ask me.”
“Early. Like 8AM or so?”
“How did you know that?”
“Lucky guess.”
I caught sight of the man through the window and watched him walk directly through a brick column. Something told me that wasn’t actually Mr. Bratton. Which meant either Bugs had made up the entire story just to amuse himself, or he had been in the Underworld so long he couldn’t tell what was real and what was just the ghost of long-ago memories. I didn’t know which was the less pleasant thought.
4
It turned out Bugs wasn't just uncomfortable going down the steps into the subway station. I also had a hell of a time convincing him to actually get out of the train and back up the steps into the city. I didn't know what he thought was going to happen or what memories he was going through. All that mattered was getting back to the Tower and making sure the others were still safe. I'd lost all track of time since leaving them and had no idea how long it was taking me to get to Bugs, convince him to come with me, and then get back here. Seeing the professional-looking man, the may-or-may-not-be Mr. Bratton, on the subway made me worried I've been gone much longer than I thought, but the sky was still dark overhead as we finally rushed down the last stretch of the sidewalk into the glass doors of Nakatomi Tower.
I still remember the first time I walked through those doors into the lobby of the impressive building. At the time I had absolutely no idea what to expect inside. Ashe had led me there by the instruction of Ty, who told her that's where we would find Aurora. It was strange to think about the way I perceived her then. That day I could only think of her as the cold, dismissive vampire princess who had seduced me almost the instant I first walked into Solomon's Fang, and then left me to suffer a long and painful death. Going into the bar that night had been to escape having to face the people at my high school reunion, but it turned out to be walking out of my false life and into the real one that had been waiting for me for nearly three decades. There had been no affection for Aurora when I stalked across the lobby and watched Ashe talk to the receptionist. I hadn't worried about her or felt any need to protect her when the Shades attacked and tried to keep us from getting upstairs to Darian and Aurora. In my eyes, she was cruel and brutal, a bloodsucking bitch I'd just as soon destroy on my way to immortality as look at again.
That was completely different now. Don't get me wrong. Aurora was still harsh around the edges, and there was no denying she could be a bloodsucking bitch with the absolute capacity for cruelty and brutality. But she was also funny, sexy, and fiercely loyal. I adored her and was proud to be her mate. That meant my heart was thudding hard against my ribs as we walked into the shadowy lobby. I'd gotten used to the concept of the two worlds existing simultaneously, each as real as the other, each operating on its own and in concert with the other at every moment. That meant I was closer to Aurora than I had been, but was still in a different world, separated from her by the very being of reality. We were standing in the same building, yet we were in two different realms. I was still in the Underworld and she was in the other world. The private floors that contained Darian's office bridged the worlds, existing in both and neither at the same time. No one without authorization could access these floors, preventing unwanted visitors from crossing into the Underworld, but it left me with more questions burning in my belly.
"Shit," I muttered.
"What's wrong?" Bugs asked.
"I'm going to have to ask Ashe to add a whole separate appendix to the manual to explain the Tower."
"Explain the Tower?"
At least he had the decency to skim right past the comment about the manual.
"I didn't think about it until right now. They never explained it to me."
"I'm going to need more of a foothold than that if you want me to catch onto this, Hayden."
"I've been to Nakatomi several times before. It's where Darian has his offices and where I claimed Aurora's blood to stop myself from dying after she bit me."
"Congratulations."
"Thanks. But I've come at it from both the Underworld and New York. Nakatomi Tower exists in both because the cities are mirrored. But this building isn't really a mirror. It's not that there is a separate building in each city that is exactly the same. It is the same building, and yet it's not. Whether we go through this lobby or the lobby in New York, if we go above the thirtieth floor, we are in Darian's office."
"Yes."
"Yet the Tower always knows which of the worlds to spit us back into when we leave. There's no portal. The worlds overlap."
"That doesn't seem like good architectural planning," Bugs said.
"A lot of things aren’t good, and I think it's even more reason to get our asses up there and start figuring some shit out."
Shadows stretched across the lobby from the light coming in from the city behind us and the emergency bulbs glowing red from the upper portions of the walls. Ornamental trees created shapes that looked monstrous across the floor and I thought of Bugs and my shadows when we were standing next to the trash can fire in Final view. Sharpened awareness of our surroundings tingled on my skin as we started across the space and I reached out to stop Bugs in the same instant as the elevator door slid open on the other side. My stomach twisted and knotted as we waited for whatever was going to come out of the elevator. My mind went to the knife I'd dropped in the river and I wished I'd had better grip so we weren't standing here totally unarmed. We'd have to rely on my fighting abilities to get us through.
"Are you ready?" I asked Bugs in a low voice.
"Should I hide behind a ficus?"
"I don't think that will help much."
"I'm not entirely sure I'll help
much, either."
A dark figure stepped out of the elevator and came toward us. Darkness shrouded the first few steps, then he moved through a slice of moonlight and I saw the corner of his face at the same time I heard his voice.
"Hayden? Is that you?"
"Son of a bitch, Jaxxim, you scared the hell out of me."
"I'm sorry."
"You could have given me some kind of warning. I thought you were Darian or one of your Shade comrades."
"Not comrades anymore. How exactly did you want me to give you a warning? Shout at you from inside the elevator? Somehow, I think that would have been even more unnerving than just opening the door and coming out."
The large man came toward us, but his steps faltered and he hesitated when he caught sight of Bugs. His eyes traveled up and down him suspiciously, and I noticed his shoulders tense and tighten as he seemed to brace himself and face off against the much smaller, one-shoed man.
"It's all right, Jaxxim," I told him. "This is Bugs. He's a friend. Bugs, this is Jaxxim."
"Hello, Jaxxim," Bugs said with all the cheerfulness of someone being brought to meet the parents for the first time.
"Jaxxim, Bugs is why I left the Tower. He's here to help us."
"We don't need more help, Hayden. We have our crew and are doing everything we need to. Trusting anyone right now could be dangerous."
He said it through gritted teeth, his head tilted toward me and his voice lowered as if he thought he could do a convenient aside and Bugs wouldn't notice what he'd said.
"Unless one of you has suddenly become a technological genius and figured out how to get inside that computer to stop these tracker chips, we most certainly do need his help."
