City In Embers

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City In Embers Page 15

by Stacey Marie Brown


  The storage building was surrounded by a tall chain-link fence, locked with a padlock. This was it? I wanted to laugh. I could get over the fence or unlock the bolt in a matter of seconds. Who did they think this was keeping out?

  “It’s too light outside. Someone will see us if we try to climb it.” Ryker evaluated our surroundings.

  I was standing in front of the lock, taking a pin from my bag. “Already ahead of you.” I motioned to him with my head. “Keep watch. A standard lock shouldn’t take me long. “

  He did a double take.

  “What? I’m not as innocent as you think I am.”

  “I think you’re anything but innocent,” he sneered. His meaning obviously alluded to the DMG.

  “Even before I worked with them.” I yanked on the lock, popping it open.

  His eyes grew wide.

  “See, not helpless.” I smiled haughtily and stepped inside.

  He closed the gate behind us, so someone from a distance wouldn’t notice anything wrong. We stayed low, progressing to the metal storage container.

  “Damn.” I slid to my knees, handling the lock at the bottom. It was a heavy-duty steel padlock. “This is going to take me a little longer. You don’t happen to have a Swiss army knife or something?”

  His hand went to a pocket in his pants and retrieved one. “They come in handy.” He shrugged. “If something I needed was in a lockbox, I had to break into it.”

  My shoulders fell. I thought for once I was bringing something to the table.

  “You are a hell of a lot faster than me.” He sensed my letdown. “I never had to rely on this particular skill too often, so I never got good at it. To be honest, most of the time I ended by hacking the box with my axe instead.”

  I flicked the smallest file on the knife and started to work.

  A man’s voice hollered close by. “No, I was going to grab more sauce for the chili.”

  Ryker reacted instantly. His body collided with mine, taking me to the ground. A sense of deja vu took hold of me as his form covered mine. He tucked his arms around my head, pulling me fully underneath him. His weight pushed on me. I couldn’t move.

  “Ryker, I can’t breathe.” I couldn’t even look to see if he had squashed Sprig.

  “Shhh.” His eyes were closed, his mouth against my ear.

  Footsteps reached the gate. We were lying only feet away from this guy. In the open. How could he not see us?

  “We have no more. They took it,” a woman shouted. “Shipment is coming tomorrow.”

  “Oh, right,” he replied. The sound of his steps tapered away. Ryker took a breath and picked his head up, gazing over his shoulder at the gate.

  “Okay. He’s gone.” He rolled off me. Taking the heat he carried with him.

  “What the hell happened?”

  “What do you mean?”

  I sat up. “We are in the open. There was no way he wouldn’t have seen us.”

  “Air! Air!” Sprig wheezed from my bag. “If this is how it feels to be in a threesome with you guys, I pass.” He took another hearty breath. “Hate to say this, Viking man, but good work.”

  Ryker leaned back on his arms. “I didn’t know if I could do it. I was struggling.”

  “Am I the only one who doesn’t know what’s going on?”

  “He glamoured the man’s mind to not see us,” Sprig said.

  I knew about glamour and tricks fae could do to humans. I was immune since I could see through all their magic. “And if it didn’t work?” My eyebrows rose in question.

  Ryker smiled tightly. “I would’ve had to solve it another way.”

  I exhaled slowly and turned back to the lock, trying to release it.

  “This is taking too damn long.” Sprig crawled out and went to the lock. He tapped on it, and it popped open. The memory of us crawling through the air vent in the DMG came back. He had unfastened those bolts in a blink of an eye. I was traumatized by all the events before and after and completely forgot about Sprig’s magic.

  “Is there anything else you can do?” I tugged off the lock.

  “I am really good at decoupage.”

  “Not really what I meant.”

  “We don’t have time for this.” Ryker pulled me to my feet, opening the door halfway. I bowed and edged in, Sprig at my feet. I flicked on my flashlight as Ryker shut the door behind us.

  “Hell,” I groaned deeply. The shelves sat vacant.

  “I think we can assume this is where Marcello came.” Ryker stepped farther in. There were only a few items left: a few packages of socks, underwear, and towels. It was probably what they rationed to every person with a bed. I grabbed a few items.

  “Taking from the needy?” Ryker baited.

  “We are the needy.” I shoved some men’s boxers into my bag, along with their version of women’s underpants. “I think it’s humorous you keep thinking I have morals. Believe me, I don’t.” Maybe with Daniel I would have had hope, but optimism for my well-being died with him.

  “You worked with DMG. I never thought you had morals, but you are proving to be a lot less uptight than I thought.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “That was a compliment, bhean. Take it!” Sprig zoomed to the top of the shelving.

  “Why do you keep calling me that?”

  “It means woman in Gaelic.” Ryker grabbed the last couple of granola bars and stuffed them into my bag. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Sprig hit my shoulder and climbed down my arm. “It’s all cozy in here now.” He fluffed the underwear and grabbed Pam, wiggling around before finally settling in.

  There went clean underwear—monkey fur splayed all over the fabric.

  But with the pure bliss on his face as he purred next to Pam, I couldn’t be even remotely upset.

  FOURTEEN

  Rain pelted us, the murky syrup in the streets sticking to our boots.

  “Are we stopping soon?” Sprig inquired. “My brain is scrambled eggs now.”

  “Don’t talk about food.” I patted my stomach. The damn thing only complained louder.

  “Are you two done bitching?”

  “Right, the stoic Wanderer never gets tired or hungry or sleepy.” I opened my arms. “Or gets cold or has any emotions besides pissed off.”

  Silence.

  Was I ruffling his feathers?

  Ryker turned down an alley. Smoke billowed from a building oozing with the smell of food. I grabbed Ryker’s arm. “We’re going in there.”

  “No. We’re not.”

  I rounded to face him. “Look, you can stay here in the cold. I am going to at least check it out. I am starving, freezing, and need to rest.” I stood strong. Annoyance permeated his expression, but he didn’t stop me.

  The building was a large parking garage. Dozens of small groups sprinkled across the space. Fires were built in trash cans, barrels, crates—whatever would hold the heat. It appeared to be a scene from a dystopia movie or one after some natural disaster. The government may claim the ES was a natural disaster, but a lot of people knew better. There was nothing natural about it. It was fae magic, an extraordinary level of magic. I still wondered why the fae had done it. What had they gotten from destroying Seattle? Had it made it easier for them to prey on us?

  Evil fucking fae.

  The garage was dry and warm. We weaved through the groups, some smelling extremely foul. “Why don’t they go to the shelter?”

  “Shelters only have so much space. There are far more people than beds or food.” Ryker kept close to me. A few men had turned to stare at me.

  “Zoey? Zoey Daniels?” A smooth male voice came from beyond my shoulder. A jolt of surprise and fear wiggled along my spine, making me jump like a scared kitten.

  A man in the group nearest us stood. His voice. The balding head and gray beard. I knew him well. I saw him every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday at 9 a.m. Countless mornings I would stare at the reflection of the fluorescent lights on his head while I sipped my latte.
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  “Mr. Kettenburg?”

  “I think it’s all right for you to call me Robert now.” My psychology professor stood before me. His usual pants and button-down shirt and tie were replaced with khakis, a colorful sweater, and a heavy coat. He looked dirty, hollow, and broken. He was not a skinny or a tall man, which made this a feat unto itself.

  “Zoey, you did not show up for the test.” He spoke sternly. He was the only teacher at the college whom I liked. His sense of humor made me take to him instantly. “I’m sorry, but it’s unacceptable. Unless you make it up, you are going to fail my class.”

  I nodded, looking at my feet. “The fact is I’m the only student who didn’t fall unconscious the moment you opened your mouth and droll on for hours about our consciousness. I think you should let me slide.” Three days a week we lived to give each other shit.

  “You were always my favorite.” A grin twitched at his mouth. “It’s good to see you are all right.”

  I wanted to laugh. All right? I was far from okay.

  He waved us over. “Come, join us. Meet my family. We were about to have some food. You look like you could use a meal.”

  A growl came from beside me, and I peered at Ryker. His eyes told me I’d better not accept the professor’s invitation.

  I swiveled back. “That would be nice. Thank you.”

  Ryker snarled, but I ignored him.

  Kettenburg touched my shoulder. “This is... was a student of mine, Zoey Daniels. Zoey, this is my wife, Donna.” He pointed at a woman in her fifties, sitting on the ground, leaning against a crate. Her styled blonde hair was streaked with dirt, along with her clothes. Her arm was injured, and a sling held it to her chest. She had a sweet round face, but it held a reserved expression. Her brown eyes glinted with pain.

  “I apologize for not getting up.” She motioned to her leg. “I am lucky I didn’t lose it.”

  Kettenburg responded. “Our house was lost in the storm. Donna and my mother were the only ones home and barely escaped.”

  “I am so sorry.”

  She sniffed and blinked her lids, looking away.

  “This is my sister, Marlene... her husband, Tom... my mother, Debbie... and my son, Andrew.” He went around the rest of the circle. The faces all blurred together, except his son, who leaned forward to shake my hand. He appeared to be high school age and took after his father in height. He seemed the type who did very well in school but was still outgoing. His eyes lingered on my face with interest.

  “Nice to meet you, Zoey,” he said eagerly. I felt Ryker shift behind me.

  “Marlene and Tom’s home was lost as well.” Robert Kettenburg motioned to the pair. They were also around their fifties, a nice average-looking couple.

  My mouth pressed together, not knowing what to say about their loss. Sorry sounded pathetic and useless.

  “Please sit. You and...” Kettenburg stared expectantly at Ryker, waiting for one of us to introduce him.

  How could I introduce Ryker? A friend seemed like a lie, and I didn’t think I could get it past my lips. An acquaintance sounded weird, and partner sounded even worse. He would hate if I told them his name, but it would draw more attention if I didn’t. “Ryker.” I waved to him. Ryker still stood a distance from the group, a scowl fixed on his face.

  They all gave him a pleasant greeting, but you could see he made them nervous and inclined to dislike him. I heartily agreed with them.

  “May I talk to you a moment?” Ryker gritted through his teeth, not even trying to appear to be polite.

  With a need to compensate for his rudeness, I plastered a sweet, apologetic smile on my face. “Sorry, I’ll be right back.”

  Ryker dragged me to a dark corner away from the family. “What are you doing?” he hissed.

  “I am trying to get us a hot dinner. Can you curb the asshole tendency for at least a night?”

  He tilted his head.

  “Never mind.”

  “We need to keep away from people. It’s too dangerous.”

  “Seriously, Ryker? He’s my professor at a college. Do you think he’s going to turn us over to Garrett or DMG?”

  “If they come searching, he can describe us.”

  “Yes, he can, but I don’t think he would. What does it matter? We’ll be long gone by then.”

  “What about him?” Ryker pointed at my bag. “If he starts talking or snoring, what are you going to tell them?”

  “Sprig, you’ll be good, right?” I whispered into my purse.

  “What’s the incentive?” he replied.

  “I don’t take Pam away from you.”

  “Yes. I’ll be good.”

  A smug smile drew across my face. Ryker shifted his weight, and his head leaned back to glance at the ceiling. Ryker’s fight was waning, so I struck harder. “Right now both those groups would be looking for two people who would keep to themselves. It’s actually safer if we blend in with this family. DMG and Garrett would probably bypass us, thinking we wouldn’t be a part of this party.” I had him; I could see it.

  “But they’re human.” He glanced over my head, part of his lip curving in disgust, his true reason for not wanting to sit with them.

  “So am I. Get over it.”

  He snarled but didn’t add another rebuff.

  “Come on.” I turned toward the others. “But if you can’t be nice, then don’t talk.”

  “And you.” I poked at my bag. “You stay quiet. You utter a peep, and the goat is mine.” Sprig squeaked in my bag then fell silent.

  We rejoined the family. I took a seat on the ground next to Robert. His son rested across the fire barrel, his eyes watching me. Ryker sat beside and slightly behind me, trying to stay as far from the other humans as possible.

  Robert scooped a ration of baked beans and slopped them on top of the green beans. It was gourmet fare compared to what I had been eating the last couple of nights, and I immediately dove into the warm sustenance, happy someone was nice enough to share with us.

  Kettenburg gave Ryker his portion of beans. Ryker gave a curt nod, scooting farther away from everyone. Being this close to so many humans was not compelling him to be civil. I looked back at him. He stared at his plate, a frown etched across his forehead. He tried to pull the green beans to one side, the baked beans to the other, but the dish was so mixed it was futile. He sighed and set the dish aside.

  “What’s wrong?” I hissed.

  The flames of the fire mirrored off his white eyes when he peered back at me. “Nothing.”

  “Why aren’t you eating?” I peeked at the rest of the group. Their attention was on the conversation between them.

  “Not hungry.”

  I stayed quiet, my expression pitched with irritation.

  He grasped his bowl, the plastic fork in his hand dividing the contents. He stabbed at a baked bean and popped it into this mouth. “There. Are you happy?”

  The way he tried to separate the items in his dish hit me. One of my foster siblings had done the same thing. “You don’t like your food touching?”

  His face lined with a frown.

  My hand cupped my mouth, keeping back the spurt of laughter. “Seriously?” My brain could not wrap around this brute of a man being OCD about separating his food. “Haven’t you eaten raw rabbits and stuff?”

  “I’ve eaten a lot of things.”

  “Bloody rabbit is fine as long as it doesn’t touch the raw squirrel on your plate?”

  His lids narrowed as he stood, shoving the plate to me. “I’m going to patrol.” His six-three frame strutted for the opening, his back rigid and tense.

  “Did we upset your friend?” Robert turned my attention to him.

  I waved my hand. “No, it was me.”

  “Is your boyfriend always this charming?” Andrew slipped nearer.

  “He’s not my boyfriend.” I shook my head frantically. “He’s not even a friend.”

  “Oh.” Andrew’s brown eyes lit with interest. Damn. Stupid move on my part. “I
f he’s not even a friend, why are you with him?” Damn. Two dumb slip-ups.

  “Uhhhhh.” I poked at a green bean with my fork, shoveling it into my mouth. “He’s a... cousin.” The answer came out before I realized it. “You know, you can’t choose your family.”

  Andrew shifted closer, his hip bumping mine. “Cousin, huh? Good to know.” He turned and smiled, nudging my shoulder with his. “No boyfriend, then?”

  “Not interested.” Being back on the street seemed to bring forth my defenses. Sharp and callous.

  He jerked back, air sucking through his teeth; rejection reflected on his furrowed brow.

  “Sorry.” I set my plate next to Ryker’s disregarded one. “I recently lost someone.”

  “In the storm?”

  Actually, Andrew, I lost my sister to the storm and the man I loved to a fae snapping his neck. I was certain he didn’t want to know the real truth. My hair bobbed in affirmative.

  “I’m sorry.” He placed a hand on my back and rubbed in a circle. “We lost our dog.”

  I bit my lip, holding back the bitter response I felt stirring in my throat. I never had a pet growing up, not an animal I considered a pet anyway. One house had a pit bull they trained to be a guard dog. Not people friendly. Another house had several cats that were mean as hell. They hissed and clawed at everyone. I liked animals, but I didn’t have much experience with them. It seemed jarring for him to put his dog at the same sympathy level as Daniel. I understood people felt close to their pets like family, most preferring them to people. Hell, if I had one, I probably would, too.

  He must have felt my haunches rising the longer he massaged my back. He pulled his arm away and let it drop. “Guess a dog isn’t quite the same.”

  “No, but I get it.”

  “I grew up with him. My dad brought him home when I was five. He was a little ball of fur. He went everywhere with me.” A sad longing permeated Andrew’s expression. “I also lost some friends from school. No one I was close to, but still...”

  Man, I was a bitch. “I am sorry.” I touched his arm gently.

  He twisted his head to look at me. A smile grew. Again, it hinted at flirtation and hope.

  I took my hand back and shifted my look to Robert. “Thank you for the food.” I got up, slinging my bag across my shoulder.

 

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