Scarlet Rain (The Escaped #2)

by Kristin Cast

  James turned the stereo up and drove the short distance to where Veronica and her friends were waiting at Vintage 1740. James had only been in the cozy wine bar twice before. Both times on awkward first dates that led nowhere. Hopefully, on this trip, he’d be able to suss out a way into Veronica’s workplace without creating too much suspicion. He maneuvered his car into the narrow strip of the last parking space in front of the bar, and punched out a quick update to Bridget.

  Coming in from the brightly lit street, his eyes adjusted to the romantic glow emanating from the wine bottle fixtures.

  “Detective James. Please, sit.” Veronica motioned to the empty seat next to her at the bar.

  His leg grazed hers as he slid onto the stool, arousing the bundle of nerves he’d managed to keep under control until now. “Please, call me James. Just James.”

  The golden light pouring from the backlit bar display deepened her skin tone to an even richer shade of caramel. “Okay, just James. I am glad you came. The notice I gave was so short.”

  “I’m glad I came too.” He looked around, expecting to see at least one person he needed to introduce himself to. “Where are your friends?”

  “I have a confession.” She averted her eyes and traced the rim of her nearly empty glass. “I knew they were leaving, but I wanted you to meet me, so I told a small lie and said they were still here. I didn’t want you to be scared of being alone with me.”

  “Me, scared of you? That doesn’t sound like me. Not at all. Nope. Not. At. All.” He tugged at his rigid shirt collar and smiled awkwardly. “I think intimidated is the word you’re looking for.”

  Wrinkles formed on the bridge of her nose as she laughed. “Are you going to get a drink? We are at this beautiful bar filled with wines, and you are without a glass.”

  “Wish I could, but I can’t. Have to stay sharp. A detective’s job is never done,” he chuckled stiffly.

  “And I’m sure you are an amazing detective,” she purred, and locked her gaze with his.

  “Yes. I, uh.”

  She delicately placed her palm on his thigh and slid it up and down his leg.

  “I fight lots of crime.” He let his eyes sweep over her killer figure one final time before clearing his throat and bringing himself back on task. “Speaking of jobs, you guys must have some tight security over at the office, what with all the personal effects you handle.”

  She brought her hand back to her glass and took a sip. “Not really. I just swipe my card and enter the one one one one on the number buttons, and it stops the beeping.”

  “Oh, you need a keycard to enter,” he said, more to himself than Veronica. “That’s more than I expected.”

  “But I don’t want to talk about work. I come here to forget work and—” Her shoulders bounced, and she politely covered her mouth with her fingertips. “Lo siento. My stomach has not been well, and now it is very angry.” Beads of sweat sprouted on her smooth forehead, and she used her free hand to fan her face.

  “Are you okay?” James asked.

  Veronica heaved forward, clenching her stomach and shaking her head. “No, I—” Again she lurched forward. This time her hand shot up and clamped over her lips. Eyes wide, she hopped off the barstool and darted off in the direction of the restroom.

  James ordered a glass of ginger ale and went over his plan as he waited for Veronica to return. Meet with Veronica. Check. Figure out security at Pierce’s office. Check. Gain access to office. I’m marking that as a half check. There’s still time. It could happen. He glanced at his phone. No word back from Bridget. He hoped her plans were going more smoothly than his own.

  “I am very sorry for being sick.” Veronica collapsed onto the barstool and dabbed her face with a stray cocktail napkin. The richness of her brown skin was overtaken by a sickly green, and sweat shimmered on her face and chest. “It was the oysters. Mi madre always said, ‘do not eat food that carries around its house.’ I should have listened.”

  James stifled a cringe. “Food poisoning. That’s the worst. If you’re sick, you can go. Don’t stay here because of me.”

  “I would love to leave, but I must ask a favor. I have no car here. You will drive me home?”

  “Yeah, sure. Definitely.” He set some cash on the bar for the full soda, and led Veronica out the front door. “My car’s right here.”

  “Gracias.” She shakily fell into the passenger seat.

  James closed the door and rounded the car, patting down his pockets for the pack of gum he usually kept in his jacket. “Here.” He offered her the foil-wrapped stick, and smiled apologetically.

  “Ah, sí. You’ve come prepared.” A weak grin momentarily brightened her eyes.

  The drive to Veronica’s house was mostly silent, except for the succinct directions she offered.

  “I didn’t realize you lived so close to where you work.” James let his car idle in the driveway.

  “Easy commute.” She dug the garage door opener out of her purse, and pressed the button. “Thank you, James. You are a very nice man. Just like Tom said.”

  “Schilling said that? Huh. Well, it’s really no problem. I hope you start to feel better.”

  Her stomach growled so loud it made James grimace. “Oh, no,” she muttered.

  “You sure you’re going to be okay?”

  Without answering, she kicked off her stilettos and darted into the open garage.

  “Okay, I’ll get those for you.” He collected her spiky heels from the footwell, and trotted into the garage after her. Stiffly, he stepped into the kitchen and closed the door behind him. A hall light illuminated the way to the bathroom, and he set the shoes down outside the door. “Just going to leave these outside here.” The sound of Veronica retching made his stomach turn. “So, I’m going to go and leave you to it.” He waited for a response, but only heard more heaving. “Okay, I’ll text you.” He retraced his steps back to the kitchen, but paused before leaving. Veronica’s ID card swung listlessly from the key hook next to the door. He unhooked the lanyard and turned the card over. A magnetic strip ran across the empty white expanse of the back of the card, and James couldn’t help but grin. It’s still a go.

  “Hey, Veronica!” he hollered again. “Changed my mind. I’m going to run out for a sec and get you some stuff from the store to help you feel better. I’ll be back soon.” He quietly slipped the card into his jacket pocket and bounded out to his car. A baleful wave of anxiety rushed through him as every mile brought him closer to Pierce’s office.

  “This is not illegal, James. You’re not doing anything wrong. Well, technically yes, it is illegal, and I’ve already broken a number of laws. Shit.” He turned off his lights and coasted into the parking lot. “Okay, don’t think of this act of burglary as a blatant disregard for your career and everything you swore to uphold. You’re here to save the planet and all the realms. Kind of like an Avenger. And people, for the most part, like the Avengers. You’re doing the right thing here, James. Good pep talk.” He turned off his car and dug a ball cap out from under the gym bag in the backseat. There was no way he was about to risk getting spotted. He liked his job and his freedom too much and, with friends like Bridget and Eva, he needed to stay on the right side of the law.

  Protected by his hat, and feeling a bit like a vigilante, James slinked over to the front doors of the medical examiner’s office. He pulled out his phone, turned on the flashlight, and hunted for a place to slide Veronica’s ID card. A metal box was affixed to the building, and James swiped the stolen card and pressed the “one” button four times like Veronica had said. The light flashed from red to green. James yanked open the door and entered the same lobby he’d been in earlier that day. The alarm beeped rapidly, and James searched feverishly for a way to disarm it. He skidded to a stop in front of the keypad and, with a slightly trembling hand, passed Veronica’s card through the reader and punched in her four-digit code. The alarm stopped abruptly, and James took a deep, relieved breath before pointing his flashlight i
n the direction of the autopsy rooms. He’d only been inside a handful of them, but remembered seeing a steel refrigerator in the area that held a bunch of expensive-looking lab equipment. He pushed through the swinging double doors and stealthily tiptoed down the hallway.

  Pierce’s office was always a little creepy, and rightfully so, but James never thought about what it’d be like skulking around the macabre building afterhours. With the infected from St. John’s Hospital still fresh in his mind, James kept his ears perked for sounds from anything unnatural possibly lingering in the dark.

  He stopped outside the familiar door, ignoring the biohazard warning signs taped to the wood. He shone his flashlight in through the narrow window, stopping when the beam of light reached the tall refrigerator. “That’s it.” He smiled to himself and twisted the door handle. The door to the lab was locked. “Shit.” He jiggled the handle a few more times to be certain before guiding the light around the doorframe. A keypad glinted, and he typed in Veronica’s code. A light flashed red and went dark. He tried the door. Still locked. “What the hell?” James punched in the number again, and again the red light flashed. “She doesn’t have access to the lab. Dammit.” Annoyed that he’d gotten so far only to fail, James smacked his palm against the keypad. The light flashed green and James seized the opportunity to gain entry into the lab.

  A rancid odor hung in the air, and made him gag when he opted to breathe out of his mouth. He shook away his disgust, and made a beeline for the refrigerator. The soles of his shoes squeaked across the slick tile, and he held his arms out to steady himself. Before taking another step, James guided the light to the floor. Sanguine sludge coated the formerly white tiles, and he followed the puddle to its origin on the far right wall.

  The metal rectangles he thought of as body lockers stretched from floor to ceiling. Red ooze dripped from the doors of several of the lockers, and James resisted his instinct to retreat back to his car. Instead, he pushed forward, ignoring the wall of bleeding steel and focusing on his ultimate destination. The narrow beam of light swept the floor around his feet as he carefully maneuvered forward. James grimaced at the wet clumps dangling off his shoes with each step toward the refrigerator.

  He pulled open the heavy door, and his breath caught in his throat. The same red ooze coating the floor pooled on the top shelf and steadily dribbled down, streaking the edge of each clear ledge in its descent.

  “Oh, disgusting.” James shivered. “But good. This is good. These samples can’t possibly be sent to the CDC now, and whatever bodies were in those lockers, well, they aren’t bodies anymore. At least we don’t have anything to worry about on this end.”

  He released the steel door and it slapped against the frame with a hissing suction. For a moment, he stood motionless to let his eyes adjust to the gloomy black of the room.

  “Shit. What am I going to do about these shoes?” The detective in him, and his reemerging common sense, wouldn’t let him walk out into the hall and leave a trail of bloody footprints that screamed, “Look! Somebody broke in!” He panned the flashlight around the room and slid over to the glinting paper towel dispenser. Stuffing as many as he could into his fist, James trudged back to the door. The ooze felt like sandy Jell-O and stuck to his fingers when he wiped it from his shoes. The smell seemed to get worse as more moisture stuck to his hands, and he swallowed against the bile building in his throat.

  With his feet as clean as they would get, James balled up the paper towels and headed for the sink in the room he and Schilling spent the most time in. He pressed his back against the door and said a silent prayer of thanks as it swung open. He tossed the wad into the bin and rushed to the sink and twisted the tap. Steaming water splashed against the sides of the metal basin, and he plunged his hands under the warm stream.

  “This better be over soon.” He pumped a mound of soap into his palm and scrubbed. The last time he’d had so much blood on his hands, he’d been reluctantly helping Mel’s dad dress a deer. He’d felt filthy then, but not as filthy as he did now, with images of the infected swirling in his thoughts as their blood clung to his skin. With all visible traces of his experience gone, he dried off his hands and hurried back to the keypad by the front door. He pressed the button conveniently labeled “ARM,” and rushed out the double doors.

  Back in the comfort of his car, he breathed deeply for what seemed like the first time since he’d made the decision to break into Pierce’s domain.

  Twenty-Eight

  Eva made sure to abide by all traffic laws as she slowly and cautiously maneuvered Bridget’s Camaro along the one-way streets of downtown Tulsa. The last thing she, or any of them, needed right now was the attention of the police.

  She parked in the empty lot of the Jazz Hall of Fame, collected the book and a knife she’d swiped from Bridget’s kitchen, passed the bizarre iron statue jutting its obelisk-like head into the sky, and hurried to the Center of the Universe. She stood in the middle of the worn concrete circle and opened the book at her feet. “Okay,” she sighed. The word echoed back to her, and she smiled, remembering the last time she’d been to the Center of the Universe. It felt like a lifetime ago. She, her mom, and her dad had stood together in the brick circle, their laughter circling back to them in Tulsa’s strange acoustic anomaly. She’d held her father’s hand as they walked the same path she had walked only moments before. While they walked, he told her stories about the magic within the Center of the Universe. How it was a portal to other dimensions, and only those within the circle could hear the echo of what was being said, but everyone outside heard nothing. It was one of the few places they went as a family before her father left.

  Feeling overwhelmed, she gripped the talisman and distracted herself with positive images. “Bridget, Mom, Alek.” Alek. The couch…. She smiled. “Now that’s a positive image.” Her cheeks flushed as she twirled the softly pulsing pendant hanging around her neck. The light from the crystal warmed her fingers as the gentle fall breeze turned into hefty gusts. The book’s brittle pages whipped in the wind, and she slammed it closed. The sudden burst of air settled, and Alek stepped into the circle.

  “Alek, what are you doing here?”

  “My talisman.” He released the crystal and it bounced against his chest. “It brought me to you.”

  “Oh.” She looked down at her necklace and tucked it back into her shirt. “I guess I was holding it and thinking about you. I didn’t know it would bring you here.”

  “But it’s a good thing I have come. This does not look to be Bridget’s home.”

  “Yeah, about that. James said the CDC are coming, and they’ll be way worse than the cops. Plus, we can’t let the Nosoi get out of Tulsa. We’ll never be able to defeat them if they fly to some other city. And I found this protection spell, so I decided to come here and do it, thereby protecting the rest of the world with my Oracle greatness.” She smiled in hopes that she wouldn’t have to combat some ridiculous lecture.

  “Did you choose this place because of its magic?” he asked.

  “What? Oh, the echo. That’s not magic. I’m pretty sure that’s science.”

  “There are places within each realm where the veil between realms in thinner. Your instincts have led you to such a place.” He crouched down and placed his palm in the center of the circle. “Do you feel it?”

  She flattened her hand on the concrete next to Alek’s. The ground vibrated gently, and static tickled her fingers. “How does no one else know about this?”

  “No one else here is immortal or of Oracle blood.”

  “But my dad knew,” she whispered.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. Let’s get this spell started so we can get back to Bridget’s, and figure out how to end the Nosoi for good.” She turned to the page with the protection spell, and picked up the knife. She took a deep breath and slid the blade up her forearm. Blood gushed from the wound, and she quickly coated her fingers before it closed.

  “Apollo, hear me.” Her words ec
hoed back to her as she painted the symbol of the bow on the concrete. “Your Oracle is in need. Protect this city from this nightfall to the next, so that no evil may enter or exit. I beseech you, Apollo. Please, answer my plea.” She finished drawing the arrow and smacked her palm against the bloody concrete. Blinding light shot out from beneath her hand, followed by a deafening boom. The earth shook, and car alarms honked in the distance.

  “Look, Eva.” Alek stood, his chin pointing toward the sky.

  Shimmering gold light rippled above them and faded into the clouds.

  “It worked. He listened.” Relief washed over her as she cradled the book in her arms and led Alek to the car. “I can’t believe I just did my first spell. And nothing bad happened.”

  “I wouldn’t say nothing.” Alek motioned down the street.

  Every light was extinguished, leaving Tulsa black.

  Deflated, Eva dropped the book into the car and sagged against the seat. “Crap.”

  • • •

  Eva pulled up in front of Bridget’s building, and she and Alek hurried into the lobby. Since her spell had sent Tulsa into a blackout, both sets of front doors opened freely, and Eva didn’t bother to check in with the front office.

  “Ugh,” she groaned, passing in front of the unmoving elevators. “We have to take the stairs all the way up to Bridget’s place.”

  Alek nodded and marched to the entrance to the stairwell.

  “Climbing all these stairs doesn’t suck for you even just a little?” she asked.

  “I welcome the challenge.” A glimmer of smugness rested in Alek’s grin.

  “Oh, puke,” Eva mumbled as she stepped into the stairwell. Fluorescent light from the emergency exit signs bathed the stairs and cast deep shadows around each corner.

  “Now that you have ensured the Nosoi’s containment—”

  “For the next twenty-four hours,” Eva interjected.

  “Yes. Now that the creatures are trapped, what are we to do about defeating them?”