by J. E. Taylor
“The elevator works on either a key,” he said and held up a key on his keychain, “or fingerprint.” He waved his fingers at me with a dimple etched in his cheek. He shrugged. “It’s part of being obscenely rich, like my father used to joke about. I never was sure whether he was serious or not, and then he passed away and I got an idea of what we were worth.”
“Yeah. I looked you up after Tom told me he paid for the hospital bills,” I admitted, and my face reddened.
“I know.”
Of course, he knew.
I followed him inside the apartment and glanced around at the barren living room. It had been stripped down to the subfloor and studs on the walls. Even with everything gone, Jennifer William’s blood still stained the wood. What had been glass sliders was now just boarded over. The last of the setting sunlight colored the sky over the city through the oversized window next to the boarded sliding doors.
He stared at the spot on the subfloor for a long time. His jaw tightened, and he turned and headed down the hallway. He stopped short of the master bedroom and pointed to the right. “You can stay in there.” He opened the door across from mine and headed inside instead of heading into the master bedroom.
I opened the door he had indicated, and no sooner had I dropped my backpack and suitcase on the bed than CJ came in with his arms full of sheets.
“The beds aren’t made. Do you want help making yours?” he asked.
“I’m good.” I took the sheets from him, and he turned to leave. “Are we supposed to go to sleep now?” It was way too early for me to go to bed.
“I’m tired. I didn’t sleep much last night, so...” He shrugged. “Get some rest. I have a feeling we’ll both need it tomorrow.” He left me to figure out how to make the bed on my own.
After I put the sheets on the mattresses, I wandered around the apartment until I ended up unlocking the sliding doors and stepped out onto the balcony. The view of the city was incredible, and I took a seat in one of the lounge chairs. The air was warmer in New York than it had been up in New Hampshire. The leather jacket I wore provided almost too much warmth, but I knew the moment I peeled it off, I’d end up getting chilly.
My stomach growled. I wished I had thought to grab the snack bag from behind the seat, but I was too busy being overwhelmed by the city again.
When a bag landed on the lounge between my legs, I nearly blasted it with my fire. CJ crossed in front of me with two cans of beer in his hands and took a seat.
“There isn’t anything else to drink in the apartment.” He handed one to me.
“You could have just poured a glass of water.” I glanced at the beer and then at him. “And I’m underage.”
He turned the can around so I could read it. Non-alcoholic beer. “Tastes like piss,” he muttered after taking a sip of his.
“In that case, I’ll pass.” I opened April’s goody bag and scrounged around for a package of Skittles I thought I’d seen earlier, and then offered the bag to CJ. “I thought you were going to go to sleep.”
“This place doesn’t have a lot of good memories for me. The last time I slept in this apartment was the night before I saw my father being tortured by Lucifer in a warehouse. The time before that, my father died in a warehouse. So... just lying in that bed brought some of those nightmares roaring back.” He took a sip of his non-alcoholic beer.
“So, just as long as we stay clear of warehouses, you’ll be okay,” I muttered under my breath.
CJ spit the beer out in a spray that covered the distance between the chairs and the ledge wall. Coughing and sputtering, he glanced at me like I had just told the world’s worst joke.
I peeked into the bag but didn’t see anything else I wanted. I dropped April’s care package on the decking between our chairs and avoided CJ’s blatant stare. Even though I wasn’t looking at him, I knew his gaze was on me like a laser that jumbled my nerves.
When I finally got the courage to look over, he was squinting up at the darkened sky. His lips turned down and he lowered his gaze to the city landscape before us.
“You can’t see the stars here,” I said as I followed the path his gaze had a moment ago.
“No. Even in the dead of night, you can’t see the stars in the same way we can in Maine or New Hampshire.” He sighed heavily and glanced over his shoulder at the boarded doors. “I should do something to renovate this place and then maybe sell it.”
“Why sell it?” I asked, but deep down I knew. It wasn’t a place Tom ever came. Not since their adopted parents were killed by Lucifer. He couldn’t stomach coming here.
CJ just nodded. “Tom and I have way too many houses. And someone could be happy here.”
“Why renovate? Why not just sell it as is?” It wasn’t like he needed the money.
He huffed and nodded. “I should.” But even his tone lacked conviction, despite everything he had said. This was the apartment his father had bought when he broke free of his stepbrother. It represented many turning points in his father’s life, but most importantly, it was where CJ had been conceived. Despite his hang-ups about being here, it still held a sentimental place in his heart.
“If you were to renovate, what would you do?” I decided something less ominous should be discussed, and maybe it would wipe the frown that had formed on CJ’s face away.
His bottom lip disappeared between his teeth and his head tilted to the side. “I don’t know. I might blow out the wall between the kitchen and living room and take that stupid divider between the door and the living room out, and I might make the sliders wider and floor-to-ceiling windows on either side. Put an island in the kitchen to separate the space.” He shrugged and glanced at me. “It’s not like I haven’t thought about it. It’s just that I’m not comfortable here.”
“I know. Tom wasn’t either.”
“I would imagine he wouldn’t be. Especially since it was his likeness that did the killing.” He raised his beer and polished it off in one long pull. “I wish this was real beer instead of this crap.” He sneered at the bottle. “There used to be a bar with all sorts of hard stuff, but I couldn’t find any of the bottles in the kitchen.”
“Should you really be drinking?” I didn’t think a hangover would help us if we found Lucifer tomorrow.
“No. You are right. A hangover wouldn’t help us, and I wouldn’t have the same reaction time that I had today.” He raised an eyebrow at me, and heat filled my cheeks.
I probably could have saved myself with the floor giving out under me, but I wasn’t sure I could have done anything about the ghosts without setting the building on fire. I nodded my thanks, and a yawn crept up on me.
“Maybe we should try to get some sleep,” he said and gathered his bottles and the bag he had brought out. “I think we’re going to need it.”
I couldn’t argue with him. All of a sudden, fatigue claimed my muscles and my eyes drooped from the absence of energy. It was like the sugar crash I’d expected hit with the power of a nuclear bomb.
He held the slider open for me, and then he shuffled to the kitchen while I headed down the hall to the bathroom to begin my evening routine.
Chapter 10
Morning came fast. Or should I say early afternoon. Both CJ and I slept much longer than we had anticipated. It seemed both our bodies needed it. Besides, we only had two places left on the list.
He had gone out to get breakfast while I cleaned up. When I came out of the shower in my jeans and T-shirt, he was already back, and his bags were next to the door.
“We can eat and then stow our suitcases in the trunk before we head out.”
I put my suitcase and backpack next to his and followed him into the kitchen. The table had some pastries laid out along with wrapped sandwiches.
CJ took a seat and unwrapped the sandwich on his side of the table. My mouth watered at the sudden smell of bacon, and I sat and opened mine. Egg and cheese along with bacon poked out from between light and fluffy croissants that melted in my mouth with the fi
rst bite.
We didn’t speak as we polished off every morsel on the table. With our bellies full and the garbage cleaned up, CJ glanced at me.
“Are you ready for this?”
I laughed and shook my head. “No. But I’m going anyway. Just like you are.
A dimple in his cheek appeared, and it reminded me so much of his son’s expression that I sighed. I certainly hoped we could save him. If we couldn’t, neither one of us would be the same, assuming we survived.
CJ was quiet as he grabbed the suitcases and headed to the elevator. I followed with my backpack slung over my shoulder. The locks engaged behind me as soon as I closed the front door.
“You’re right, you know,” he said as we stepped into the waiting elevator.
“How so?”
“No matter how much I want Lucifer dead and gone, I won’t be able to kill him while he is possessing my son. I would have been able to do it if he was still wearing Tom’s body, but that’s only because I know Tom’s already in heaven.” He shook his head in disgust. “But Alex...” He closed his eyes and leaned against the back wall.
The doors swished open, and he stepped out onto the concrete of the parking garage and headed towards the car. He opened the trunk and slung the suitcases inside.
When I went to throw my backpack in, he shook his head.
“You’re going to need that,” he said and closed the trunk. When he pocketed his keys and started down the ramp on foot, I stared after him. “I’m leaving the car here,” he said over his shoulder, and led me outside to the sidewalk.
He raised his hand to hail a cab. A cab pulled up almost immediately. He opened the door and waved for me to get in.
“Whitehall terminal,” CJ said after he settled in the back with me.
A cab ride in the city was about as harrowing as walking on the subway tracks had been. I gripped the door handle so hard I thought CJ would have to pry my hand off by the time we stopped. My fingers ached, and it had only been five minutes.
CJ laughed under his breath.
I sent him a scalding glare.
“I thought you liked adventure?”
“Pft. This isn’t an adventure. It’s just terrifying.”
The cab swerved through traffic and honked too many times to count, and when he pulled up to the terminal, I nearly launched myself out of the vehicle. Instead, I pried my fingers from the handle and picked up my bag and coat. Stepping on solid ground gave me a fleeting sense of relief.
CJ ushered me into the terminal and paid for two round-trip tickets, then handed me one as we went to stand in line for the ferry. I pocketed the ticket and put my backpack on the floor in front of me while we waited. It didn’t take long to shuffle onto the next ferry.
We went to the top deck and outside as far forward as we could get. CJ leaned on the railing and stared out at the water.
I put on my jacket and hoisted the pack over my shoulder. “Why did we bring this?” I nodded at the heavy pack.
CJ glanced at me. “There are only a few left on the list. It might behoove us to suit up.”
I cocked my head. I already had heaven’s blade tucked away in my boot.
“You don’t want to tip our hand by using that on anything we come in contact with. That should only be used on Lucifer.”
“What’s in the bag?”
“Proper outfitting for a battle, at least in Kylee’s mind.”
Now I really wanted to open the bag and inspect the contents. If she had packed this backpack, I’d bet it was loaded with her special weapons. Of course, I had no real clue of how to wield them, but at least I’d have more than just my fire to protect myself. And in an enclosed space, that seemed to be the more prudent option.
“Bathroom’s in there,” he said and nodded towards the weather-protected area.
I didn’t need him to tell me twice. I headed inside and found a single restroom with a lock instead of a line of stalls. I dropped the bag on the counter and unzipped it. My leather kick-ass outfit sat on top of the pile, and below it was a note in Kylee’s handwriting.
Be badass and take him down. I also have a couple of potion bombs in here for you that will stun anyone, including you and CJ if you don’t throw it far enough, so be careful with those. I am told it should work on Lucifer, too. Suit up, Nephilim. I’ll see you when you get back. Kylee.
I glanced in the mirror at my ratty T-shirt and jeans. I hand combed my unruly locks and then braided them in a tight single braid, which made the black leather outfit I’d changed into much more intimidating. I pulled the boots back on, clipped the leg sheaths to my thighs, and slid the knives from the bag into them. Kylee also had a belt studded with Chinese stars. I tucked the potions in my coat pockets and stared at the last thing in the bag. I was not sure whether I wanted to take that out or not. I didn’t have a license, and getting caught with a firearm was not an offense to take lightly.
I did know how to use a gun, though, so I took it out and inspected the pistol. It was small enough to tuck into the holster at the back of the star-studded belt, so I ensured the safety was on and tucked it in place before stuffing my clothing in the bag. I slipped the leather jacket over the ensemble and stared at myself in the mirror.
I looked like a cross between Lara Croft and The Road Warrior. Satisfied, I opened the door and ignored the stares as I walked back onto the deck to where CJ stood.
He smiled. “That’s the best cosplay outfit I have ever seen,” he said loud enough for the people staring at me to hear. The minute he uttered the word cosplay, people stopped staring as if cosplay was a norm in the city.
I’d have to remember that.
I dropped the bag and leaned on the railing as the ferry started its trek across the Hudson River. We passed the Statue of Liberty, and I gawked at it like a tourist. Someday I’d like to come back to the city and explore, just as long as I didn’t have to go into those god-awful subways. But then again, the taxi was just as terrifying.
CJ leaned on the railing as well, but his mind was closed, transmitting only static. If I stopped concentrating on the quiet he projected, the noise of the crowd on the boat overwhelmed me. I turned back towards the magnificent cityscape behind us, wondering if this would be the last time I would ever see this view.
“Don’t be so melodramatic,” CJ muttered.
“I’m a teenager. I have the right to be melodramatic,” I said, still staring at the skyline of downtown Manhattan, now with the Statue of Liberty in the foreground. I reached into my pocket and pulled out Alex’s phone and snapped a picture before I pocketed it again.
CJ seemed to go into himself as he stared ahead. The crease of concentration between his eyebrows was the only indication I had that he was deep in thought.
I studied his profile, noting the similarities between Alex and his father. They both had dark hair and the bluest eyes. Eyes that you could fall into for days. The strong jawline was definitely the same, but Alex’s cheekbones were less pronounced than CJ’s. In that manner, Alex looked more like his grandfather than his father. CJ looked a little more aristocratic than Alex, but they both were fine-looking men.
CJ’s cheeks reddened, and I realized he had picked up on my internal study of him.
“My son is not a man yet,” he said and slid his gaze to mine.
“I beg to differ,” I said and then pressed my lips together and looked away.
“He’s a teenager, just like you are.”
I glanced at him. “In your world, when does one become a man? Or a woman in my case?”
“When you turn eighteen.” He stared ahead. “Until then, you are children who need guidance and protection.”
I started to laugh. “I don’t think I need protection.”
He slowly raised his eyebrow and looked at me in a silent challenge.
“I don’t need protection, but I do agree. I need your guidance with my gifts,” I conceded. Until I had the same level of refined control that he had, I couldn’t claim I didn’t n
eed help.
Those dimples I was getting used to appeared just before his smile. It reminded me so much of Alex that I locked my knees in place to keep me steady.
The ferry docked, and we waited our turn to get off. I let the thoughts of the crowd assault me, blocking out any of my own thoughts as we slowly moved toward our destination. The auras distracted me as much as their thoughts, and those kept me occupied until CJ hailed a cab.
“Greenbelt Recreation Center,” he said and pocketed his phone.
I refocused on him, and silence layered over the din. My nerves prickled. Something hung in the air that caused my hands to itch, and I stared at the driver. When he glanced in the rearview mirror at me, I sensed more than saw an animosity that I didn’t understand.
I looked away and pushed into his mind like Valerie had taught me. Our driver disliked Americans, especially strong American women. In his culture, if I went out of the home dressed like I was, I would have been stoned to death in the street.
I pulled out of his hateful thoughts and glanced at CJ. His tight jaw and hard gaze were enough to convey he’d heard the man’s judgements as well. While he was harmless to us, the darkness in me wanted to shoot him into oblivion.
“So, Uncle,” I said loud enough to be heard over the obnoxious music the driver had playing on the radio.
CJ glanced at me and raised an eyebrow.
“I’ve decided I want to go to Harvard,” I said.
“You’re smart enough,” he said and smiled. He knew I was trying to get under the driver’s skin, and from the smile on his face, he approved. “And what exactly do you want to do?”
I thought about everything I had read and tossed up so many different powerful careers. “I want to be a sex therapist.” I smiled demurely.
I think if CJ had liquid in his mouth, he would have spit it all over the cab. The driver nearly choked in the front seat. And I’d accomplished my goal of shocking the bastard. I’d shocked them both.
“Either that or a scientist for NASA,” I added.
“You can be whatever you want to be,” CJ said, trying not to crack a smile, but the dimples etched into his cheeks told me he was barely containing it.
