by Kelley York
"Is that common? For him to leave and not contact you."
"Mav's a pretty private person. Sometimes he'll leave for days at a time, just to be alone. I think he's been searching for Joel by himself, and if there's anyone who can track him, it'd be Mav."
Oliver slides away from my side to take the lead. The tension in his voice tells me this news doesn't make him happy; he's still worrying about Cole and Daniel. "Useless. Well, seeing as most of the attacks happened in or near Old Town, that's where we would start. It's prime feeding grounds."
"Plenty of places to hide, too," I offer. "Abandoned buildings, the train yard, all the tunnels under the city..."
Both boys look at me.
"Tunnels?" Oliver asks.
"Yeah. Old Town was a huge place of trade way back when, but since it's on the river, it used to flood all the time." I shrug. "Instead of ditching the location, they built the new city on top of the old one. So there are still all these tunnels and buildings beneath the streets."
"Sealed off from the public, I'll bet," Fred mutters. "Good place for a vampire who doesn't wanna be caught to hang out during the day."
I try to imagine Ruby hiding beneath the streets of Old Town, or shacked up in an abandoned warehouse somewhere. So much for glamour. She should have known she could come stay with me.
At any rate, Old Town seems as good a starting point as any. People are still lingering as the light recedes. Stores are closing up for the night, but the pubs and restaurants will teem with customers until closer to midnight. Admittedly, the sleepy structures and old architecture look a little creepy in the dark. I am not looking forward to this.
We wander the streets and it feels a little aimless, until I realize that both Fred and Oliver are concentrating. Sensing for any trace of Ruby, Joel, or Alex. I guess I should be doing the same, but all I can feel are the feeble presences of humans here and there. Nothing remarkable, nothing out of the ordinary.
When we reach the end of one of the streets and the boardwalk overlooking the river, Fred leans over the railing, staring out at the water. "I feel like..."
I cross my arms over my chest, watching him. "Like...?"
"Alex. I feel...she's nearby. Somewhere." He closes his eyes, frowning, focusing. "It's like catching the smell of something but not quite being able to place what it is."
Oliver stays a few feet away, lifting his chin and scanning the river bank, the show boat docked there, the glimmer of lights from office buildings on the opposite side of the water. Then he turns back to face Old Town and studies the buildings. "You aren't imagining it. I feel it, too."
Good for them, ‘cause I can't feel a damned thing. Not Ruby, nothing. "Can't she, like, hide her presence?"
Fred sighs and pushes away from the railing. "Joel can, but Alex never cared to learn. And this isn't... It doesn't feel like she's far away, it feels more—"
"It's weak," Oliver says. Fred's mouth pulls into an unhappy line and he nods.
I remember the way I could barely feel Oliver when he was injured, the way the warm flare of his presence felt so distant. Just beyond my fingertips. But why would Alex be hurt?
I punch Fred's shoulder, hoping to chase away the troubled look on his face. "Come on, we still have ground to cover. Maybe you'll feel something along the way."
Fred sighs, but reluctantly gestures for me to lead the way. I guess I'm the only one familiar with this part of town. Oliver falls in line with me, too, as I trace our steps back to the cobblestone streets and head a direction we haven't explored yet.
Half a dozen taffy and candy stores and two ice cream parlors later, we pass the old school house and Fred's footsteps slow and then stop. Oliver is a step behind him. Finally, I can feel what they feel—a distant flicker of something vaguely familiar and uncomfortable. Fred's description was apt. It isn't far away, it's dim. Like trying to spot a shadow in a dark room.
Fred turns full circle, searching, and takes off down the street without a word. Oliver and I exchange looks and follow after.
He tears down two streets before he stops again, studying the buildings around us. A bank on one side, book store on the other. A three-tier brick building sits across the street, its lower floor serving as a café while the upper floors are rented out as office space.
Whatever it is I'm feeling, it's coming from there. Not inside, but below.
A creaky wrought-iron gate separates us from getting into the outdoor seating area. Oliver makes it in a running leap and Fred follows suit. They catch the top, vaulting themselves to the other side, leaving me to stare through the bars after them.
"Yeah...I can't do that."
Oliver rolls his eyes. Fred grins. He steps up to the fence and slides his arms between the bars, hands clasping as a foothold for me to get up. "By all means, allow me to help the lady."
"Drop me and you'll regret it," I grumble, but place my foot in his hands and hoist myself up. With some effort, I manage to drop down to the other side, complete with the back of my shirt slightly torn. See? I'm so awesome at this.
Oliver is already moving around the side of the building, away from the street view and examining the entrances. An employee exit, a few windows, caked with dirt and dust. Toward the back, a steep set of stairs leading down. He lingers at the top of them, frowning.
"Briar, where are the entrances to the tunnels you mentioned?"
"Hard to say." I take a few steps down. "A lot of them are sealed off. There's one used for tours a few streets away, but I don't know how deep it goes." But with this dusty looking door at the base of the stairs, I'm willing to bet it's a good place to look. The tickle of Alex's presence is stronger here. Not strong, but stronger.
There isn't room for all three of us at the bottom, so Oliver squeezes past me to test the door. When it doesn't budge, he grips the handle, puts his shoulder to it, and shoves. A sharp crack echoes off the surrounding buildings and makes me flinch. But I guess it does the trick. The door swings open with an achy creak. Oliver vanishes into the darkness.
Already this place is giving me the creeps. Thinking back to all the stories of the tunnels being haunted, keeping on ground-level suddenly seems like a much better idea. But as Fred follows after Oliver, I know there isn't a lot of choice. I slip after them, pushing the door shut behind me.
Where we stand looks to be some kind of old boiler room, unused for God knows how long. Strings of cobwebs hang from the corners and off the boiler. The brick walls are cracked and crumbling and the windows have been heavily boarded up. A place abandoned by time.
While my eyes are adjusting to the dark, the boys venture in further. An archway leads into a narrow hall, just as broken as the boiler room. We trail down it in a single file, keeping close. The mixture of decades-old dust and debris has me holding my breath. Fred sneezes.
The hall finally opens up into another, larger room. There are windows, but we have to be underground now because not a single shred of light seeps in between the boards. The room is deep enough that I can't see where it ends. A few support beams here and there must be newer, holding up whatever building we've found ourselves beneath. I can sense it. We're getting closer.
"She's here," Fred breathes. He moves around us, stepping just out of reach and swallowed by the darkness.
I want to reach out and grab him but Oliver takes my arm, drawing me to him. "Stay with me," he instructs, and I don't argue.
We inch after Fred. Somewhere up ahead, I can hear his steps, but they echo off the walls and make it impossible to place exactly where he's gone. Alex's presence is stronger now. Almost touchable.
"Alex," Fred calls, farther ahead than I thought he would be. "Alex! Where are you?!"
Nearby in the darkness, something moves. Something groans. It isn't even a solid sound so much as a breath. A death rattle.
Whatever it is brushes the back of my ankle.
I scream, spin, reaching for Oliver only to find him gone. Reeling, I stumble over whatever-it-is and hit the groun
d with bits of broken concrete and stone digging into my palms. It touches me again and I scramble back, gasping for air.
There's a small square light in the pitch blackness, and Oliver calling my name. His phone. Not much of a flashlight but it works well enough for him to run to me, nearly tripping over the same body I just did.
He shines it in my direction to make sure I'm okay, then follows my gaze to the lump on the floor. Even with the light, it takes me a minute to realize what it is. Alex.
Or what's left of her.
31. Sunday – 10:03pm
Alex's throat is wide open. The skin has peeled and withered away from the wound. It's hard to make out, but I think her stomach is sharing a similar fate. Rotted, from the outside, in. From the clean cuts of a knife.
The same knife Noah used to kill Artie.
I roll away, stomach churning in a silent threat to make me sick if I don't get some distance between us. Oliver mutters a curse and kneels beside her and somewhere in the distance, the pounding of Fred's footsteps grows nearer.
"Alex!" He drops down on her other side, reaching for her but hesitating, like he's worried whatever killed her is somehow contagious. "Who did this to you?"
I crawl to my feet and force myself to look at her straight-on again. Whatever light was in her eyes seconds ago? It's gone now. But her glassy gaze is still on me, seeing nothing and everything all at once.
For several minutes, none of us says a word. Oliver checks for a pulse. When he doesn't find one, he leans back and watches Fred, who remains bowed over her. I wonder if he's upset. If maybe Alex was someone important to him. I didn't get that impression from our last conversation, but what the hell do I know? Unable to think of anything to say, I rest a hand on his shoulder.
"These wounds," he mutters. "They look like the ones Artie had."
Oliver inclines his head. "From a blade." His eyes lock with mine. "A witch's blade."
I swallow hard, tearing my gaze away. Noah wouldn't do this. Someone like Artie who didn't leave him a choice? Sure. But Alex—she was too prone to running when she knew she was up against something she couldn't beat. "It wasn't him."
"Then who was it, Briar?" Oliver steps around Alex's body, dipping his head to try to peer into my face. Invading my personal space. And right now, that's a no-no. "Do we know any other witches around here?"
"Noah wouldn't do this, okay?" I push past him, my shoulder slamming into his with enough force that it pushes him aside but leaves mine throbbing. "I'm sick of everyone jumping to conclusions about everyone else. You blame Noah, Noah blames Ruby, Ruby blames Maverick. It's this big, stupid circle and we're never gonna get anywhere sitting around and bitching about who did what."
"She's right, you know."
Noah's voice surrounds us from nowhere, echoing in a way that makes it impossible to tell where it's coming from.
Oliver twists around with a snarl. With his phone light pointed in the right direction, I can barely make out the outline of Noah's figure across the room. I don't know whether I'm happy to see him, or terrified this is not going to end well.
Sure enough, Fred launches himself across the space between us and him and the force with which he slams Noah into the wall makes the sound bounce off every solid surface. I suck in a breath and hold it.
"What did you do to her?" Fred hisses. His power is nothing like Cole's, but it rolls off of me and makes me shudder. "Is Oliver right? Was that your knife?"
For a brief second, I think I catch Noah watching me, but the lack of lighting makes it hard to tell. "It was my knife. But I didn't do it, so let me go."
Fred doesn't. "What, did it grow legs and do it by itself?"
Noah's face contorts. "The last time I saw my knife, it was sticking out of Artie's back. So you tell me what happened."
My mouth falls open. It all happened so fast, I didn't even remember until now. Artie and Noah fighting—Joel showing up and the blade being abandoned while Noah, Daniel, and I ran through the cemetery to safety. "He's telling the truth. I was there."
"Like you wouldn't lie just to save his ass!" Fred snaps.
"Trust me, you'd know if she were lying. She's terrible at it." A lazy smirk crosses Noah's face. Jerk. Maybe I should have let Fred punch him a few times before I said anything.
Oliver sighs. "Put him down. If he didn't do it, he didn't do it. But if it wasn't him, then it has to be Joel."
Finally, Fred releases his hold. He twists around to glare at Oliver, but there's no real malice in it. He looks how he's always looked to me: a big, dumb, lost puppy. The people he cared about are either dead or traitors; I can't begin to imagine how he feels.
"Whatever," he growls, stalking back over to Alex. He drops to her side and brushes a hand down her face, drawing her eyelids closed. I'm grateful to get her stare off of me. Before he stands up, he pulls her cell from her pocket and flips it open.
While he's messing with the phone, I keep staring at Alex, realizing that the longer I watch her, the less human her face looks. It isn't her anymore. The body on the floor is only a shell.
I'm glad we were here when she died. I try to think that in those last few seconds where her eyes met mine, maybe she found some kind of solace. In the same way I did when I thought I was dying. In the same way I hope Sherry did.
Nobody should die alone.
Noah drifts closer, and I can feel the warmth of him at my back. How selfish am I? Being glad that he's there while Oliver and Fred can't stand the sight of him. Maybe neither of them believe he didn't do it, but I do. "What are you doing here?"
"Looking for Ruby or Joel, same as you." He shrugs. "You can't say you're surprised."
My lips purse. "How did you know to search down here?"
He tries valiantly not to smile, but the right side of his mouth twitches up anyway. "I didn't. I followed you."
"Like a hyena, scavenging for scraps." Oliver rolls his eyes.
Noah shoots him a dark look. "If we're after the same targets and you guys have a lead, I don't see what the harm is."
"You're the one who said you didn't want to work with vampires," I point out.
"If you don't want my help, all you have to do is say so."
"We don't want—" Before Oliver can finish that statement, I clamp a hand over his mouth.
"Okay, kids. I've said it before and I'll say it again: we want the same thing, so let's stop with the bitching and get a move on." I pull away. Noah and Oliver exchange dirty looks like the five-year-olds they are, but the bickering seems to be put on hold for now. "Whoever did this to Alex might have left her here for us to find." I say who, but I don't think any of us have any doubts that this is Joel's work.
"No useful messages on her phone," Fred says. I make out him scrolling through her phone, picking a number, and dialing out. A second later he hangs up and shoves it into his pocket. "And we aren't really getting a signal down here."
"Then we keep moving." Oliver glances at Alex before turning his back to her. I hate the thought of leaving her here, but taking her along will slow us down. We can come back for her once this is over. If there's anything left. She's deteriorating by the second.
We continue our path through the underground, through wide rooms and small rooms, through some tight and narrow passages where the tunnels have partially caved in on themselves. I'm more worried about them caving in on us. I'm also worried Noah will leave. Wander off on his own. But he keeps at our backs, a few feet behind, and every now and again when I look over my shoulder he offers me a thin smile.
The farther we go, the farther behind we leave Alex, the more other presences start tickling my senses. I can't place these ones. They aren't Joel, but they don't feel human.
There are several of them. Two at first, which multiplies to four, six, eight... From all different directions. In front of us. Overhead. If I focus too much on it, the sensation makes me dizzy.
"You feel that?" Fred murmurs to Oliver, like I can't hear. Oliver nods slowly.
"Feels kind of like Briar," Noah says behind me.
I scowl at him over my shoulder. "What's that supposed to mean?"
He stares at me a second, then past me at the boys. "Like new vampires."
No one responds. All I can think is that I hope he's wrong.
The ground begins sloping up as we duck beneath some old, low wooden beams. Heading toward the surface, I hope. I'm totally done being down here where I feel closed-in and vulnerable. Where people like Noah can hide in the darkness without us knowing.
Where people like Alex are left to die.
Fred keeps trying the phone, dialing every couple of minutes. Each time the call drops before it even rings. It isn't until I'm sure we're nearing some kind of exit that he halts dead in his tracks and switches on the speaker phone. It's ringing. We all stop, crowding around Fred in the narrow hall.
The smooth-as-silk voice that answers a minute later sounds way too amused for my liking. "Hello."
This is the first time I've heard Fred sound so sincerely cold and furious. "Alex is dead."
"Is she? Ain't that a shame. I wonder who could've killed her?"
I snatch the phone away from Fred because he looks about three seconds from throwing it. "Where are you, Joel?"
"Oh, is that Ruby's baby sister? Who else is there? Hope y'all are getting' cozy and familiar with one another."
"Where are you?" I repeat. "Grow a pair and stop running."
"It ain't my fault you haven't found me yet."
"Maverick's gonna kill you if you don't hand yourself over," Fred says.
"Nah. I don't think Mav's gonna be doin' much of anything, to be honest. Have you seen him recently, Freddy?"
Dread works its way into my chest. He could mean anything with a statement like that. Either Maverick is on his side after all, or—
I turn to Oliver, keeping my voice low. "Is Joel strong enough to kill someone like Maverick?"
Oliver shakes his head slowly, but there's a sliver of doubt in his gaze, and the way he's frowning tells me he isn't quite so sure about that. I wonder if that magic blade of Noah's is capable of doing to an older vampire what it did to Artie and Alex.
