Hollowed (Half Light)

by Kelley York

  What did I just see? How did Noah do that? Like...made some sort of explosion with his bare hands?

  I look at Noah. At Artie, motionless on the ground. At Joel, slowly, painfully picking himself up. Algonquin struggles to his feet with a whine and shoves his nose against my arm, silently reassuring me he's all right to move.

  Noah swoops in, grabbing me up by the arm. "Move!"

  There's no time to argue; he drags me along and Algonquin limps at my side, struggling to keep up. In the space of time it takes us to get across the cemetery, thick fog has encroached in from every direction until I can hardly see a foot in front of my face. Noah winds in and out of the old pathways and trees like he's done this a hundred times before.

  At the very center is the cemetery archive. As we take the steps up, I see the padlock has been effortlessly snapped open. Noah pushes Algonquin and me inside, slips in behind us, and heaves the door shut. Without it being locked, I'm not sure what good he thinks being in here will do.

  This building used to serve as some kind of storage for bodies in the summer months. Now there are shelves and desks scattered throughout, with binders and rolodexes full of information. I've browsed through a lot of it before, with Sherry. Everything is musty and stifled and there are no windows to let in the light. Noah lingers by the door, although I can't tell what he's doing.

  "Why are we here?" I ask, whispering because it feels like I should.

  From the back corner, Algonquin whines and I hear a soft groan in a voice that makes me whip around, all but forgetting Noah. "Oliver?" I make across the room, slamming my hip into more than one sharp corner along the way and dropping by his side.

  His clothes are torn and I can smell the blood on him. As my eyes adjust, I can barely make out his drawn face, his vacant eyes. Algonquin noses at Oliver's cheek, ears slatted back against his head.

  Noah steps up behind me. When I twist around to look at him, he holds up his hands. "I didn't do that, so don't look at me. He was like this when I found him."

  "So you just...left him here?!" God, I want to punch him. "Defenseless so the others could swing in on him like vultures?"

  He gives me a long look, mouth tight. "They wouldn't have been able to get in."

  "They know how to work a door, Noah. They're vampires, not zombies."

  "Some zombies can open doors..."

  "Oh. My. God. That has nothing to do with this!"

  He shrugs. "Then why did you bring it up?"

  For the briefest of seconds, I realize he's smiling. Or trying not to smile, and failing. It's those little smiles I've missed so much, and—damn him—it quells my anger, if only a little. I still want to hit him, for reasons including but not limited to finding Oliver and not doing something to help him. "Are you gonna explain?"

  "I found him like this, sealed the door when I left, and ran into you." He shrugs.

  "Sealed the door? With what, silly putty? That's not going to keep out Joel!"

  On Oliver's other side, quiet soud like rustling fabric, one I've grown accustomed to hearing when he changes. Human again. Naked, but it isn't like I can see much in this darkness anyway. "With a spell, darling," he murmurs to me.

  I squint. "What?"

  He brushes a hand over Oliver's hair. "Your Noah is a witch. That knife of his is enchanted, and I suspect the fog was also his doing."

  Noah stares at Daniel, eyes big and round. I guess in all his vampire hunting he's never met a shape-shifter before.

  "A witch," I repeat, trying to process that word. "Broomsticks and pointy hats and Hogwarts?"

  Blinking a few times and seemingly overcoming his surprise, Noah sighs. "Like I haven't heard that before."

  "Witches are an ancient race, just as the vampires are," Daniel says. He busies himself checking over Oliver's injuries. "They have been around just as long. I had suspected as much when I found out he went up against Oliver without sustaining injury—hand me those scissors there, on the desk, would you?—but I did not want to say anything until I was certain."

  Daniel takes the scissors I offer him. I can't help but watch in morbid fascination as he uses the blade to cut a deep line down the inside of his wrist, which he holds to Oliver's mouth. Oliver makes a barely audible sound not unlike a whimper, but his eyes flutter open, traveling between us.

  "Faut boire, Oliver," Daniel croons. Oliver lets his eyes fall shut again, but he fastens his mouth around the wound, oblivious to anyone else in the room. I have to tear my eyes away because it feels like a moment I shouldn't be in on. Not to mention it reminds me how starving I am.

  Noah looks off in disgust, shoving his hands into his pockets and staring at the door. Now that my eyes have adjusted, I can see just what he was doing earlier: a circle filled with symbols and letters I can't even begin to decipher adorns the wood in white. Chalk? I get up to investigate, reaching out to touch it and Noah stops me with a simple, "Don't." He steps closer, nudging my hand away. "You'll smear it."

  "That little thing can really keep them out?"

  He shrugs. "Why not? You leeches can survive off of blood, why can't I keep people out with a spell?"

  "You say such things, but the witches are more closely related to vampires than you might think," Daniel says absently from his corner. Noah shoots him a scowl.

  "Like I don't know that."

  "I don't." My arms cross, watching Noah expectantly.

  "Now really isn't the time for a history lesson."

  "If we're stuck here anyway, I don't see why not."

  Noah sighs, rubbing the back of his neck and turning away. "Vampirism started out as just a disease, a really long time ago. Most people lived for a few weeks, a couple of years at most. But eventually it killed them." He brushes his fingers along the spines of old archive binders, lost in thought. "The story is that some idiot magic-user's lover got infected. In order to save her life, he used his powers to manipulate the virus. Unfortunately, it had already made her bat-shit crazy and she went around infecting everyone she could get her hands on."

  I open my mouth, close it again. "Magic can do that?"

  "If you're good enough. But," he shoots Daniel another glare, "it was so long ago, no one knows if it's really true."

  "There are still people old enough who have attested to it," Oliver rasps. He swipes feebly at his mouth and pushes Daniel's arm away, voice gravely and slurred. It's still music to my ears to know that he's all right.

  "That was not nearly enough," Daniel says.

  "Any more and you're not going to be able to transform for us to get out of here. It was enough." Oliver pushes himself to his feet with Daniel's help, jaw clenched, wincing. "...He's coming. Can you sense him?"

  Noah glances back at the door, mouth drawn. Having watched him face off against Artie without a care in the world, it makes me nervous to see how uncertain he is about Joel. The older, the more powerful, isn't that what they told me?

  "So, what? We hang out here and hope he goes away?" I say.

  "He's strong, but he's not that strong." Noah sighs, sounding sullen. "Hey, vampire."

  "I have a name," Oliver growls.

  Noah gives a one-shouldered shrug. "You feel up to helping me scare him off?"

  Daniel starts to object when Oliver cuts him off. "I could do it by myself. You aren't anything to be afraid of."

  Thinking back to Artie and whatever it was Noah did to him? I'm not so sure about that. I'm also not sure Oliver should be moving around like he is. In this tiny room, I can feel Noah, I can feel Daniel...but Oliver's presence is barely a flicker. No wonder we couldn't track him down earlier.

  But as he moves for the door, I feel his presence warm and flare. He steps past me and long after he's gone, I swear I can still reach out and touch him. Noah gives him an approving nod and shoves open the double doors to step outside.

  The fresh air feels amazing, washing away the scent of blood and dust. Daniel—Algonquin-the-wolf—slinks past me. He hovers near Oliver's side, looking up at him n
ow and again in concern. They aren't in any condition to fight. That leaves me and Noah, and I wonder if we're really capable of taking care of Joel by ourselves. Fighting is so obviously not my strong suit.

  I feel Joel before I see him on the path ahead of us, calm and casual, hair slicked back and hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie. Alex is next to him. One side of her head is a matted, bloody mess where I bricked her. No wonder she looks pissed. They stop twenty-ish feet away, surveying the four of us, and I realize what Noah meant.

  He doesn't intend on fighting, he intends on making Joel run when he sees that he's outnumbered. Alex hasn't proven herself an amazing fighter—persistent, but reckless—which means we still have the upper hand. At least, we look like we do. Here's hoping Joel doesn't call our bluff.

  "What a pain," he announces in a bored tone. "Though interesting. It isn't every day I see witches taking orders from vampires."

  Noah tenses, speaking through grit teeth. "Doesn't hurt to work together when the situation calls for it." Somehow I doubt he means that, but he doesn't seem willing to rise to the bait. "What do you say, Joel? Four against two, you wanna do this?"

  Joel's mouth purses, thoughtful. The flare of Noah and Oliver's power has my legs jellified. The two of them are like birds puffing out their feathers, making themselves seem bigger, stronger than they are. It's working on me, at least, and by the shifting expression on Alex's face, I'm guessing it's working on her, too.

  "You can't protect the Greysons forever," Joel finally says, turning away. "Now you've killed one of Mav's. He's going to be pissed."

  "Tell it to someone who cares." Noah watches him go at first, then takes a few steps down the stairs. "Hey, I have a question for you."

  "Tell it to someone who cares," Alex mimics in a high-pitched whine, turning after Joel.

  Noah ignores her. "Why did you turn Briar?"

  I snap my attention onto him. Why would he ask that? I had never thought to because I couldn't imagine Joel telling me. The thought of that night makes me break out into a cold sweat.

  Joel halts. When he turns around, he looks between Noah and me, and I recognize the genuine confusion on his face. "What're you talking about? I didn't turn her."

  "You were there," Oliver snarls. "You were the one who attacked her."

  "Sure, I attacked her. Ripped her pretty throat out." He smiles serenely in my direction. "But I didn't turn her, sorry."

  This time, the flare of presence I feel washing off of them is stronger, angry. It does nothing to help keep me level-headed. "You were the last person I saw. Artie killed Sherry and I—"

  "You were unconscious when I left." Joel inclines his chin, managing to look down on me even from this far away. "Coulda been anyone, princess, but it sure as hell wasn't me. I wanted to leave you for dead and make Ruby sorry she ever crossed us. Y'all have a great night now." With another smile and a tip of an invisible hat, he turns away. They vanish into the darkness before anyone can say another word.

  It wasn't him. What does he gain by lying when he's already admitted he and Artie were the ones who attacked us? I'm back to square one of not knowing a damned thing. Angry tears blur my vision and my throat tightens.

  This isn't the time for getting upset, I decide. Oliver and Daniel both need to be looked at, and I want the hell out of this place.

  21. Friday – 12:01am

  Noah, thank God, has a car, and for whatever reason he feels generous enough to give us a ride home. Too bad the tension in the air the entire trip is icy and stifling and I've never been so glad to see that stupid hotel.

  I text Cole to let him know we're heading back and we have Oliver, safe and sound. He's waiting for us out front when we pull up. Noah gets out of the car but lingers, hands buried deep in his pockets. Algonquin and Oliver trek inside without so much as a look back while I take my sweet time adjusting my hat and scarf, both filthy now thanks to Alex, and watch Noah from the corner of my gaze. "So...you coming in?"

  Noah swings his gaze from me to Cole and back again. "I have things to do."

  "Liar." I lean against the hood of the car, signaling Cole that he doesn't need to stick around. In my peripheral I catch sight of him heading back inside. A fat raindrop plops itself onto the windshield, the first after a long day of ominous black clouds. "I have a few questions for you before you head out."

  "I'm not obligated to answer them." Noah squints up at the sky, anywhere to avoid looking at me. Which is fine; I can play the there-are-more-interesting-things-to-look-at game, too.

  "Uh huh. How do you know Ruby?"

  "I don't know why that's any of your business."

  "She told me you two used to date."

  I can hear the scowl in his voice. "So you did see her. That hat you're wearing, I thought it looked familiar. It was hers."

  "Does it matter?" Another drop of rain, this time splashing against my denim-clad knee. I refuse to let it bother me that Noah knew Ruby well enough to recognize something belonging to her. "No one's given me any answers about anything. Not you, not her. It's really starting to piss me off."

  Noah sighs. A moment later he comes to sit on the hood with me, though there's a foot of space between us. "Ruby and I dated for awhile. Six, seven months, I guess. I met her at a club where I was looking for a mark."

  Having Noah confirm it makes it all the more sharp and real. I close my eyes. "And then what?"

  "She was turned, and she changed." He shifts restlessly.

  "Changed how?"

  "Changed. I don't know how to explain it. Did she seem the same to you?"

  "Same sister I've always known." I'm a lying liar who lies. But any changes I noticed weren't bad ones, were they? Ruby used to be so uptight. It was good to see how free she seemed. There was that brief moment where she told me about Maverick's brother, but I've shoved that to the back of my mind for now. "So she got infected, and you dumped her. Real nice. And you're trying to kill her like you're trying to kill me?"

  "She's been taking lives, Briar." He sounds so tired. "Carelessly and brutally. I tried to make things work for awhile after because I cared about her, but...she changed too much. I couldn't do it."

  He cared enough to give Ruby a chance but not me? Ouch. Thanks. My eyes open. "Ruby wouldn't hurt people."

  "She does," he snaps.

  "She wouldn't. Maybe Maverick made her hurt someone and that's why she ran away from him. You should've been there to protect her from that!"

  Pain flashes across his face, raw and real; I've struck a nerve and he doesn't know what to do about that. Cue instant guilt. I know it isn't something he could've prevented anymore than I can blame him for what happened to me and Sherry. All I'm doing is shoving the blame onto someone else, trying not to carry it on myself.

  Maybe none of us could have prevented any of this.

  "Noah, I didn't..."

  He slides off the hood, pacing restlessly. Raindrops dot and darken the shoulders of his jacket. "No, you're right. It is my fault. Which is why I'm going after her instead of making it someone else's problem."

  I worry at my bottom lip. "I didn't mean it like that. It isn't your fault she got turned."

  "Wouldn't be surprised." His shoulders hang heavily. "She knew about my work. She was obsessed with it. All the details... Vampires, nymphs, shape-shifters, faeries. Every time we talked she wanted to know every little detail about my missions and I told her because...I thought I could trust her with it."

  I'm torn between sympathy and irritation. "Oh, so she got to know everything."

  Noah whips around, eyes as sharp as his words. "After how she reacted, I wasn't about to make the same mistake with you. If I could have kept it a secret forever, I would have."

  I meet his gaze steadily, unwilling to back down. "Did you know who I was?"

  "What?"

  "The night we met at the bar. Did you know I was Ruby's sister? Is that why you talked to me?"

  His eyes widen. Cornered. That's how he looks. Like I've p
ut a gun to his head and backed him right up against a wall. "I don't see why that matters."

  "It matters, Noah." I slide to my feet, closing the distance between us. "It matters. Give me the truth for once."

  He leans back but doesn't step away, as stubborn as I am and just as unwilling to admit defeat. Just say no, Noah. Just say no. Let me keep what one little shred of dignity I have left.

  "Yeah. I knew."

  Not the answer I wanted. Maybe I should have known the truth wasn't better than living in ignorance. Back when I thought Noah was a government employee carting around a briefcase and a spare tie, when I thought Ruby was dead and gone. Back when things were simple and made sense. I close my eyes and turn away.

  Noah grabs my arm. "Ruby had completely lost her mind, so from time to time I came back just to make sure she wasn't hurting her family. But I had never laid eyes on you before that night."

  Would punching him make me feel better? I'm really tempted. "That's all it was, a charity case? Checking up on your ex-girlfriend's baby sister?"

  "That's what it was, at first. I was going to be in and out. Spend a few hours with you, try to find out if you were in contact with Ruby." He takes a breath, lingering long enough on that pause between words that I reluctantly look up at him. "...And then I came back. Again. And again. You were funny and weird and no matter what we were doing, I had fun with you. The idea that Ruby might come back and hurt you...it scared the hell out of me."

  Damn him. Damn that soft and sweet tone that always used to make me melt and obviously hasn't lost its effect. Focus, Briar, Focus. "Ruby wouldn't hurt me. The worst she's done is let her family think she died, but at least that was for a good reason." I feel like I'm making excuses for her, but it's true, right? None of us would have understood.

  "The Ruby you knew wouldn't have, no. She was a good girl. Full of herself, but good." He releases my arm. "But becoming a vampire warps people. Trust me when I say that. I've seen it time and time again, and I've met the elders. They go crazy with age. Don't believe me? Ask your friends what their elders are like."