These human “pets” might have been well cared for, but if their
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masters were willing to offer them up to the monstrous figure of the Missionary simply for the sake of a game, then those relationships were not founded on love. They did not and could not share a fraction of the bond that Valentine and I enjoyed. She was mine, and I was hers, and I would let nothing come between us for the rest of eternity.
“If Foster doesn’t call before this is done, we have to follow him.”
Val was looking at me defiantly, as though she expected disagreement. But how could I block her now, when we had the chance to finally put her nightmare to rest?
“You’re right,” I said. “If she can’t get here by the time he leaves, then we should track him to his daytime resting place. Then we can keep an eye on him until the police arrive.”
A change came over Val then, determination replacing anxiety.
“Yes. Okay. Good.”
“We’ll have to be careful, though,” I warned her. “He has those full-vampire super senses. It won’t be easy to track him and stay hidden.”
“Mmm.” Val turned back to the spectacle below, frowning in thought. My brain was racing again. How could we be certain that he wouldn’t catch us? If I transformed, I’d be able to track him easily, but then I’d be a loose cannon of epic proportions. We were just going to have to be—
“Hang on a second,” Val said suddenly. “You may be wrong, for once. Look. I think he’s getting…drunk.”
I followed her line of sight in time to see him stagger slightly as he moved away from his second victim. Was it possible that he was actually becoming intoxicated by their blood?
“Is it the amount that’s doing that to him? Or is he picking up the effects of the drugs or alcohol in their bloodstreams?”
Val shook her head. “Not sure. Both, I think.” Her voice was clipped, eager. “But this is going to work to our advantage.”
The crowd roared as the third “pet”—a tall blonde who probably could have been a supermodel in a different life—was secured to the cross. I stared past the spectacle, into the shadowed wings of the hall. The main entrance to the Foundation was at the back of the synagogue, but a small set of stairs leading both to the ground floor and to the basement were tucked away into an alcove to the left of where the altar
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must have stood. The floor swarmed with people; we weren’t going to be able to move quickly down there.
“We need a plan for how to pick him up as he leaves,” I murmured.
“What if you stay up here to maintain the bird’s-eye view, and I shadow him—using your directions by phone, if necessary—on the ground. You can meet me outside.”
Val pushed away from the rail, drawing herself up to her full height. “But—”
Having expected this protest, I pressed my index finger to her lips.
“He knows what you look like. He doesn’t know me from Eve. I should be on the ground.”
Her jaw worked soundlessly before she finally sighed in acquiescence. I hefted my phone. “I’m going to call you right now, and keep it on until we meet back up, okay? That way you’ll always know what’s going on around me, in case we get temporarily separated.”
Val heard what I wasn’t saying—that this was a dangerous mission to undertake, especially here and especially now. That the vampire standing on the dais below might be our enemy, but to the crowd he was a celebrity. That he was strong and cruel, a veteran of violence. She crushed me to her and kissed me fiercely before pulling just as suddenly away. Her pupils had all but swallowed her irises.
“Be careful. See you soon.”
“See you soon,” I replied, before jogging down the balcony’s spiral staircase. When I reached the floor of the hall, I hit a wall of people. Painstakingly, I moved through them toward the edge of the dais. I punched number one on speed dial, and Val answered immediately.
“He’s still up there,” she said without preamble. “But the woman’s on the verge of collapsing already.”
I raised my free arm to make myself thinner and pressed forward with more urgency. A few seconds later, a bestial roar sliced through the buzz of the crowd. Through a momentary gap between tightly packed bodies that gave me line of sight to the dais, I saw the Missionary, his lips stained dark, fists clenched as he bellowed in intoxicated triumph. An answering roar went up in response from the crowd. No one seemed to care which “pet” had been victorious. The Missionary’s merciless draining had whipped the masses into a frenzy, and they surged onto the dais, enveloping him.
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Carried forward on the crest of the wave, I clutched my phone tightly and tried to stay on my feet. The Missionary had completely disappeared from my view, and as much as I could, I tried to change course toward the edge of the hall. I glanced up once and saw Valentine, her head shifting back and forth desperately. She’d lost me. And probably him. Damn it!
Even as I was pushed nearer to the stage, I swept my gaze around the room, knowing that he could be anywhere. A sudden break in the forward momentum allowed me to dart to the left side of the hall, where the crowd was much thinner.
And that’s when I saw the side door, standing open just a crack. I didn’t allow myself a moment of doubt. The door led to a narrow staircase that spiraled down one flight to a small foyer and what was clearly the Foundation’s back door, before continuing down into the basement. Growls and snapping barks floated up to me from the bowels of the former synagogue. Would he have gone down to watch the dogfights? Or out to the streets?
The streets, I decided, knowing that even the slightest hesitation could be the difference between success and failure. I pushed the door open as quietly as I could and looked both ways down the dark, narrow side street, just in time to watch a shadowy figure stumble around the corner onto Stanton Street.
I breathed a sigh of relief, checking my phone as I moved after him. The call had disconnected. I hit speed dial again, flinching at the chanting and screaming of the crowd that assaulted my ear as soon as Val picked up.
“Are you okay?” she shouted. “Where are you?”
“Going west on Stanton,” I whispered, trailing a good thirty feet behind the Missionary. “Oh, wait, he just turned left onto Essex. And I’m fine. Get out of there, okay? It’s a madhouse.”
“Call if anything changes,” was all she said before hanging up. I flicked my phone to vibrate mode in case Val or Detective Foster called me back. I didn’t want anything drawing the Missionary’s attention to me, even though he was exhibiting all the signs of a drunkard: stumbling, weaving, even occasionally propping himself up against a building while he waited for traffic to pass.
A few moments later, I heard quick footsteps behind me. Resisting the impulse to turn—just to be sure—I sighed in relief when Val twined
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my fingers with her own. She squeezed hard enough to make me wince.
“We’ve got him,” I murmured, trying to offer her some comfort. I couldn’t even imagine how she felt, stalking the Missionary as he had once stalked her. But soon, so soon, this whole nightmare would be over: Foster would call back, and soon afterward she’d show up and arrest him, and then finally, finally we would have peace.
“I could finish this,” Val said, her voice curiously hollow. “Right now.”
When I glanced at her, I noticed that her left hand was in her jacket pocket. Where she kept her gun. Our quarry had stopped at a busy intersection to wait for the signal, and I jerked her into the shadow of a nearby building.
“No,” I whispered urgently. “He committed a crime, Val. This is not about vengeance—it’s about justice!”
I wanted her to look at me, but she wouldn’t focus on anything but the back of his bald head. “Don’t you think the Consortium ha
s people in the courts?” she said, still in that disconcerting, detached monotone. I wondered if she sounded that way because she was trying so hard to stay calm.
“Don’t you think the Consortium wants to see him brought in, too?” I countered. “He’s endangering the secret.”
Val shrugged. The helplessness of the gesture made my heart ache.
“Sometimes I don’t know.”
The light changed and she took off after him, forcing me to break into a brief jog to catch up. I took her hand again, not knowing what else to do and wanting a physical tether to her. He was heading toward the river; I could smell damp and mold ahead. Modest warehouses—some abandoned, some not—were plentiful in this neighborhood. So were prostitutes. Some of them, lounging in doorways or reclining on stoops, dared to look Val up and down. She didn’t notice, but even now, in the middle of this madness, I did.
The Missionary paused to talk to one of them, an anorexic-looking woman whose blond hair clearly came from a bottle. I watched her stroke his bald head with bright red fingertips. She giggled at something he said, and fell in step with him. She was going to die, but not until after he had his way with her sexually. Considering how turned on Val
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got while feeding, it was a wonder that he could walk home at all after gorging on three victims earlier. Maybe, since he’d glutted himself, he’d just sleep with her and let her go.
But maybe not.
A few blocks farther south, he paused at a massive steel door that led into a waterfront warehouse. He unlocked some kind of chain that held the door down before yanking it up in an impressive display of strength.
“You live here?” I faintly heard the hooker ask. He drew her inside and the door clanged shut behind them, a modern-day portcullis. Val pulled me into a nearby alleyway. “He might see us from the windows.” Never looking away from the building, she lowered her body into a crouch. “Do you think we dare go around the other side, just to make sure there’s not a back way out?”
I didn’t have a good answer for her, so it was a relief when my phone buzzed. “Foster,” I breathed. Val sighed, her shoulders slumping in relief. “Detective, hello.”
“Alexa, I just got your message, I’m sorry.” She sounded harried.
“Is everything—”
“We know where he lives,” I said simply.
A moment of silence. “Are you there right now?”
“Yes, in front of the building. Both of us.”
“How the—” She cut herself off. “Tell me your address.” When I told her the cross street, she exhaled sharply. “Okay. Stay right there. Don’t move a muscle until I arrive. It won’t be more than twenty minutes.”
“Okay.” She hung up, and I lowered the phone from my ear. Val looked at me, scuffing her foot against the asphalt impatiently. I couldn’t believe that things had moved so fast—that we had actually found him, successfully tracked and cornered him. That soon, he would be in police custody.
I could barely remember life before this bastard had changed everything. My former self seemed like a character in a book I’d read long ago, vague and distant. I knew that we could never go back to the way it had been, but maybe, maybe now we could relax. Settle. Ease into our shared immortal existence without being haunted by the trauma, the nightmares, the guilt. Maybe now, we could start to heal.
“She’s on her way.”
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Chapter tweNty-FOur
Ishivered violently in the wintry night air. It had to be in the twenties, and I was only wearing a tank top beneath my coat. Any minute now, I told my twitching muscles. It had been at least a quarter of an hour since Foster had hung up the phone. Even with her gaze locked on the warehouse, Val noticed my chill.
“Come here,” she said, opening her arms and unzipping her jacket. I wanted to be close to her, so I didn’t resist. Nestling my back to her chest, I sighed as she wrapped her arms and her coat around me. Every once in a while, a fine tremor ripped through her body, too, but I knew it wasn’t from the cold. Her stance was rigid, her muscles taut.
“I love you,” I whispered, out of truth and habit and comfort, all at once.
We heard the footsteps at the same time. Val tensed up even further, but she continued to look straight ahead, trusting me to tell her if there was danger. I swung my head in the direction of the sound and let out a long breath when I recognized Detectives Foster and Wilson.
“Valentine, Alexa,” Foster said as they ducked into the alley. “I apologize for being inaccessible earlier. The president is in town, so the whole force is out chasing after bomb threats.”
I opened my mouth to say something about how awful that job sounded, but Val spoke first. “He’s in there,” she said, jerking her chin toward the warehouse. I bit back a sigh, wishing that she could use a little more tact when dealing with the police. But Foster didn’t bat an eye. “How did you find him?”
In the intervening minutes between Foster’s call and her arrival,
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Val and I had discussed this. We agreed that it wasn’t a good idea to mention the Angel Orensanz Foundation at all, lest Foster send a unit to stumble into the Red Circuit like cattle to the slaughterhouse. “We were walking home from a club and saw him on the street,” I said. “It was crazy, so random…and then Val started flashing back.”
I watched Foster’s face closely as I spoke, triumph thrilling through me when she glanced sympathetically toward Valentine as soon as I mentioned her flashback. I knew that Foster had seen Val in the throes of remembering the night of the attack. She would believe me, certainly. She might not even ask as many questions as she otherwise would have.
“We called you, but when we couldn’t get through, we decided to follow him ourselves.”
“I’m glad you’re safe,” Foster said. Val hissed, so softly that only I could hear. I shifted my weight to step on her right foot—now was not the time for a display of ownership. Honestly. Why did she even feel threatened by Devon Foster?
“All right,” Foster said. “Detective Wilson will take you both home—he can get a statement from you there. I appreciate your being willing to take a risk in following this guy when you saw him.”
For the first time since we’d ended up in the alley, Val looked away from the warehouse. “You’re going in after him alone?”
Foster shook her head. “I can’t go in at all, until we get a warrant. I’ve already called for backup, though, and we’ll continue to stake him out until that happens.”
Val’s eyes darkened and her breaths grew quick and shallow. She was getting angry, or frustrated, or both. I squeezed her hand, trying to keep her calm. “He’s got someone in there with him right now,” she said, her voice strained. “A hooker—he picked her up on the street a few blocks back. She could be in danger.”
“Damn it.” Foster rocked back on her heels, looking uncertain.
“Did you hear him threaten her in any way?”
“No,” Val admitted reluctantly.
Foster sighed. “Looks like I’m still going to have to wake up a judge. Once backup gets here, they can surround the premises to—”
A high-pitched scream. The faint tinkling sound of shattering glass. Movement at one of the warehouse windows. Val’s arms tightened reflexively around me.
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“Let’s go!” Foster barked to Wilson, her gun already in hand. She looked directly at me. “Stay right here. Wait for the backup. Tell them we have an emergency situation inside.”
“Okay.” I was shivering again, but not from the cold. I felt a little dazed as I watched Foster and Wilson run across the street. Everything was happening so fast. At a sign from her partner, Foster took a few steps away from the door. The sharp report of his gun as he shot off the lock echoed down the street. Val and I shared a glance. The
police had just announced their presence.
Foster and Wilson disappeared into the cavernous entrance of the warehouse. They left the door open behind them. Val immediately began to fidget. “It’s making me crazy, not to be in there with them.”
I linked my fingers through hers. “I know. Me, too.” The Missionary was outnumbered, but he would also have the jump on them. I wondered how old, how experienced he was. And whether his drunkenness would cancel out the benefits from having glutted himself on blood. I hoped Foster was a good shot.
We waited. Down here, the sounds of the city were muted. The unfamiliar hush was eerie. I could make out the soft lapping of the water against the edge of a nearby pier, the rustle of a shutter against brick in the breeze. I leaned forward, straining to hear something from inside the warehouse…
…and pushed back hard against Val’s body in alarm as a series of gunshots suddenly pierced the quiet.
“Shit, shit, shit.” Val was openly clutching her own gun now. “We should—”
“Hell, no,” I said, as firmly as I could. My hands were shaking.
“Maybe—maybe they got him.”
She nodded, starting to pace back and forth across the narrow mouth of the alley. I waited, breaths coming quickly, for some sign of life. Foster took him out, I told myself. She had taken him down and was either inspecting the corpse, or reading him his rights. This was over. And then a flash of red fabric appeared in the shadows of the entrance. The prostitute staggered out, arms clutched around her waist, crying uncontrollably. Val and I started forward at the same time. The woman was white as a sheet and couldn’t manage to walk in a straight line. Her skimpy skirt had a jagged slit that hadn’t been there before,
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and a thin stream of blood was trailing slowly down her leg. I saw Val’s nostrils flare.
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