by S T Branton
“What?” I almost jumped.
I respect your decision. That being said, it is crucial that you understand we will likely need to leave this vicinity no matter what we choose to do now. Will you be able to do so when the time comes?
“If it does, yes.” I gritted my teeth. “I promise I’ll be able to leave if it’s time. It’s not time yet.” To be honest, I dreaded that moment. New York City may have always been a dirty, smelly shithole in my mind, but I never wanted to think of it as lost.
All right. I am comforted by your resolve. Let us press forward.
“You got it.” I beckoned to Frank. “Time to pick up the pace. We’ve got somewhere to be.”
That was the first time I ever saw Frank run—I think he surprised himself, too. I can’t say it was pretty, but there was a kind of poetry in it. We made an odd pair, the two of us, charging down an empty street in the city I claimed as mine.
The gods would have to pry New York from my hands. And I was ready to fight like hell.
Chapter Thirteen
I stood beneath the windows of the safehouse, glancing between Frank and the old fire escape zigzagging up the façade. It wasn’t that high—maybe five stories at most—but I had concerns about whether he’d even be able to fit his considerable bulk onto the ladder. Worst case scenario, he’d bring the whole thing down on his own head. “Good thing he’s undead now,” I muttered.
“What are we waitin’ for?” Frank’s eyes darted nervously back and forth along the barren sidewalk. “Let’s get in there.”
“Up there, you mean.” I pointed.
He cranked his head back, squinting despite the fact that it was dark out now. His eyes gave off an eerie glow in their sockets. “Don’t worry about it. That? Easy.” Opening his jacket, Frank tucked the cat carefully into an inside pocket. “You stay there, angel. Uncle Frank’s got you.” Then he reached out and grasped the lowest rung of the ladder. I held my breath as he hoisted himself up, watching for the entire apparatus to start listing like a sinking ship. It creaked enough to churn my stomach, but by some miracle, it held. Flakes of rust and black paint rained down from underneath Frank’s shoes, but it didn’t collapse.
When I was reasonably convinced he’d make it without disaster, I followed. The metal frame quaked with every step he took until he was safely atop the platform outside the window. I could hear him wheezing two floors down. More than ever, it struck me as critically important that we started expanding downward—if only to keep Frank’s heart from giving out.
Perhaps we can build a trebuchet and launch him at the enemy, Marcus suggested.
“Can it, Gramps,” I told him. “He’s here whether you like it or not. He’ll find a way to help.”
I admire your unabashed optimism, Victoria, Marcus replied. But he kept the remainder of his opinions to himself, for which I was grateful. I climbed onto the grate and knocked on the window while Frank pounded his chest. Just before Maya opened the pane, he spit something nasty onto the pavement below.
Maya started off smiling but stopped in a hurry when she saw Frank. He squeezed his way into the building, and as I shut the window behind us, he withdrew the cat from inside his coat.
“Hi, Maya.” I gave her what I hoped was a reassuring grin. “This is my buddy, Frank. Don’t mind his appearance. He’s had a rough couple of days.”
“Look! That guy’s got a kitty!” A little boy broke away from his mother’s protective grasp and darted over to Frank. “Can I see, mister? Can I?” He was rapidly joined by his younger sister. The flock around Frank grew steadily, which was how I noticed that the number of inhabitants inside the safehouse had increased.
Frank smiled. “Be gentle, kiddos. She might be scared. I don’t want her to scratch ya or nothin’.”
Frank looked toward us and waved awkwardly. I shot back a thumbs-up.
Maya shrugged. “The more the merrier, I guess.” A slight frown crossed her face as she watched him for another minute, and then she shook her head. “I need to get back to tending wounds.” She glanced apologetically at me. “I know what you’re gonna say, Vic, and yes, we are over capacity. I can’t help it. I know there’s still people out there.”
“I don’t blame you, but we’re gonna need to branch out from here pretty soon if you want to continue.” I turned in a semi-circle, observing the chaotic scene. “Where’s Jules?"
“Jules is in the back. There’s a woman with a newborn. I should probably go check on them. Can you talk to Deacon? Maybe he and his friend could help.” With that, she moved toward the hall leading to the bedrooms and left me to my own devices. I had nearly lost sight of Frank among the crowd of eager children, but I could see a big, sort of goofy smile plastered on his face. It was pretty heartwarming, I had to admit.
“Hey, Vic.” Deacon seemed to materialize out of nowhere at my side. He tracked my gaze to Frank, and he frowned too. “Wait. Don’t tell me that’s… Frank?”
“You know him?”
The frown did not go away. “Yeah, I know him. Mostly harmless, standard lowlife. As far as I know, he was never more than a lackey. But—” He sucked in his breath sharply. “Holy shit, he’s been vamped. What the hell is he doing here?”
“Stop.” I put a hand on his arm. “Relax. Frank and I have history, okay? I brought him here. He’ll be fine. He’s under strict ‘no vamp shit’ restrictions.”
“I’m supposed to trust he’s not going to snap and kill everyone in this place just because you told him not to?” Deacon hadn’t taken his eyes off the mobster. “I don’t think that’s how it works, Vic.” His hand hovered close to the holster at his waist.
“Deacon, cut it out. Frank’s a special case, all right? Yeah, they turned him, but he broke out and came looking for a cure. I doubt he would’ve done that if he’d already gotten indoctrinated. You’re just going to have to trust me on this.”
Deacon wasn’t happy, I could tell, but he breathed a grudging sigh and backed off. “Fine. You know I trust you, and I guess it’s damn near unconditional at this point. I just hope you’re not wrong.”
“I’m never wrong,” I said brightly. “Now, where’s Trent? We’ve got to start thinking about expanding our base of operations here, and I think we could use his help.” Trent was currently nowhere to be seen. I resisted the urge to undercut Deacon’s ex-partner with some kind of disparaging remark. Trust, I had learned, was a two-way street.
“Way ahead of you.” Deacon gestured toward the actual front door of the apartment. “He’s scouting out other floors as we speak. It became pretty clear soon after you left that this wasn’t a sustainable situation.”
“Don’t blame Maya,” I said. “She’s not the type who can sit around without helping someone. I’d like to think none of us are.”
“No, of course.” He gave me a look. “But why didn’t you—”
“Vic?” Maya’s voice cut into the middle of his question. “Can you come help me out for a sec?”
I swiveled in a circle until I pinpointed her location. “Hold that thought, Deacon. I’ll be back.” Threading my way through the crowded room was like navigating a living obstacle course. Several sizes of children still huddled around Frank, vying for a chance to pet the cat. I heard them fighting over names for her as I passed. If nothing else, Frank was perfect for mediating squabbles—all he had to do was hold each kid at arm’s length with opposite hands, and they could barely hear each other, let alone fight. Who would’ve thought a mobster-turned-vamp would make a decent babysitter?
Maya knelt next to an open first-aid kit, applying ointment to a deep cut on someone’s leg. She beamed at me over her shoulder with an intensity that I found a little bit suspect. “Thanks so much, Vic. See, this is the one I was telling you about. Like I said, she’s seen a lot more action than me. You can ask her whatever you want.”
“Wha—” The word wasn’t even fully out of my mouth before a kid in a hoodie and a mop of brown hair was right in front of my face. I caught a glimpse
of Maya mouthing the word sorry. She turned her attention back to the wounded patient as the kid started talking.
“Yo, awesome! It’s so cool to meet you guys. I mean, I guess I shouldn’t be saying this stuff is cool because, like, the city is going up in smoke. But at least it got me out of my math midterm, right?” An awkward laugh stumbled out.
I stared at him. “What are you talking about? What do you mean, ‘you guys’?” What had Maya told him?
You are already becoming the stuff of legend, Victoria. Marcus’s voice carried a note of pride. I mentally glared at him. Depending on what she’d said, this could be a total catastrophe.
“Maya told me about how she wasn’t the only one,” the kid gushed. “She said there were more of you, and that she’s not even the coolest. Which is kind of hard to believe, no offense.” He laughed again. I looked somewhat desperately to Maya for help, but she was either completely engrossed in her work, or steadfastly ignoring me.
“Hold on.” I held up my hands, hoping that would be enough to stem the tide of words. “Walk me back just a tad here. When did she say this? And who are you?”
“Oh, right.” He scratched the back of his neck. His boyish face flushed. “I’m, uh, I’m Adam Rockwell. I was a student at NYU.” His eyes flicked toward the window. “I guess I still am? It’s not real clear, to be honest.”
“Uh huh.” I nodded. “And how did you meet Maya?”
His face lit up again, the toothy smile crinkling the freckles at the corners of his eyes into creases. “Dude, it was freakin’ crazy! I was hunkered down in my apartment, right? Waiting to see if my roommate was gonna come back, and I started hearing this ruckus out in the street. I looked out my front window, and I saw these guys out there, all tatted up, you know?” He made a vague swirling motion over his torso. “At first, I thought they were a gang, ‘cause they were smashing in windows and stuff, so I figured they were looting. Then I realized, hey, these guys are glowing! I’m telling you, that blew my mind. I mean, I’ve heard of UV tats before, but I didn’t think anyone actually got them.”
Listening to him was exhausting. “And then what?” I asked, praying he’d take the hint and get to the point.
“That’s when I saw her walking up the street like it was nothing, totally natural. She was right in front of my place when she did it.” His eyeballs were in danger of popping straight out of his head with excitement.
“Did what?” I had my suspicions, but I wanted to make sure he had witnessed her transformation beyond a shadow of a doubt.
“She turned into a dang werewolf, man! For real!” Presumably to describe the vast difference in size between Maya and Were-Maya, he threw his arms out to the sides, earning himself a couple stink-eyes as he narrowly avoided punching the people around him. “It was incredible! I didn’t know hot babes could do that!”
I rubbed a hand across my face. “And then?”
“And then she kicked some serious ass! You would’ve thought those guys were ragdolls the way she tossed them around. I was waiting for her to snap one of them in half with her teeth or something, but no dice. Not—not that I’m complaining. I don’t know if I could actually, you know, watch that. In real life.”
That admission made me feel a little better, but not much. This kid Adam was still way too into it. “You came out of your apartment after that?”
“Well, no.” He cleared his throat. “She knocked on the door. Said she was looking for people who needed evacuation and told me I should go with her.” He made an exaggerated shrugging motion. “Hottie who can also turn into a monster whenever she wants? You don’t have to tell me twice. That’s when she told me about you, on our way here.” For the first time, his expression leaned back toward the somber end of the spectrum. “I did leave a note for my roommate, though. Just in case.” Again, he cleared his throat. “I’m… sure he found a way out.”
“Yeah. Who knows? Maybe he’ll turn up here.” I patted Adam’s shoulder, feeling a twinge of sympathy. “How old are you?”
“Twenty.” The grin came back full force, and this time, he wiggled his eyebrows. “About the same age as Maya, right? Is she single? Tell me she’s single.”
I smirked. “She’s single. And gay.”
The expression of triumph fell off his face as quickly as it had arrived. “Aw, man.” He sighed. “All right. She’s still crazy cool.”
“That she is. You’re lucky she found you. Sit tight, okay? I need to take care of some stuff.” I used the semi-awkward moment to start easing myself out of the conversation, leaving Adam to reconcile his disappointment.
My eyes searched for Deacon in the sea of faces. Like Trent, he seemed to have vanished into thin air.
“What’s with these guys?” I murmured to myself.
I quite liked that boy, Marcus said. Very boisterous. An admirable trait to have retained in such times as these.
“I guess. Maybe next time I’ll let him put you on, and you can chat with him instead.” Once more, I checked for Deacon. Through a doorway that apparently led into the kitchen, I caught a glimpse of black shoes and black tailored suit pants. “There we go.”
I wondered what he was doing in the kitchen—until I stepped across the threshold and saw the small armory he had amassed and laid out on the table. All the knives from the block on the counter were arranged by size, including the ones meant for steak. They were accompanied by a couple dusty cans of mace, a small fire extinguisher, and a broken wine bottle where the bottom third morphed into nasty shards.
“Rough,” I said. “Did you make that yourself?”
“You gotta do what you gotta do.” He was still hunting for weapons in the drawers and cabinets. Empty beer bottles stood lined up on the longest stretch of countertop. “Those guys were in the recycling. If we find some gas, we can make Molotov cocktails.”
I leaned on the edge of the counter. “Good thought, though I feel like anything that causes the spread of raging fires probably ought to be a last resort.”
“I was a Boy Scout. Always be prepared.”
I laughed. “You never told me you were a Boy Scout.”
“Yeah, well, you never told me Maya was a werewolf, so I guess we’re even.”
“Touché. That’s my bad. I should have warned you. She’s no threat to us if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“I didn’t say it was a bad thing. We could use some more unconventional allies in this fight, and she’s obviously in control of herself.” He paused, smiling dryly. “Near about shit myself when she first turned, though. I thought everything was about to go deep south until she tore into the bad guys.”
“You were out there, then? When she drove back those Marked assholes?”
“Yeah. Silly me assumed she needed an escort. I’m still glad I was there, but I’m even more glad she can take care of herself.”
I wondered briefly why Adam hadn’t made any mention of Deacon. Then I realized he had likely been so consumed by Maya’s charm and beauty that he hadn’t even noticed the FBI agent at all. “Me too,” I said absently. “She was training a lot before the shit hit the fan. Good to know it’s paying off.”
“I’ve never seen anything like it.” Deacon opened another cabinet. “She was a monster, but she was also strangely beautiful.” He shook his head. “Maybe I’m cracking up. I don’t know.”
“No, it’s awesome. Like in the sense that it’s awe-inspiring? I know what you mean, is what I’m trying to say. I’m not sure she feels the same.”
Deacon finished rifling through the last cupboard and turned around to observe his findings. “Not much. Better than nothing.”
“Now all we need is a plan,” I said. “Think it’s time for a communal debriefing?”
“Yeah.” Deacon strode toward the doorway. “Let’s go get the band back together.”
Chapter Fourteen
We walked back into the living room to see a knot of people gathering around the television. I sent Deacon to snag Maya for our team mee
ting. “Where’s Trent?” I asked. “We might need him too.”
“Good question.” Deacon turned in a circle, scouring the room. “He should be back by now.”
“See if you can find him. I’ll grab Jules.” I headed to the bedrooms to find her. She was sitting in a makeshift nursery with a blanket spread over her lap, cradling a sleeping baby in her arms. The baby’s mother rested nearby on a half-covered mattress.
“Jules.” I kept my voice low, so as not to disturb either mother or child.
She glanced up and smiled widely. “Hey, Vic! You’re back.”
“Yeah.” I motioned behind me toward the door. “Can I borrow you for a few minutes? We’re strategizing.”
“Oh, sure.” Jules scooted over and gently nudged the woman on the mattress, who opened her eyes and gave us a timid smile. “I need to go with her.” Jules pointed at me. “I’ll be back in a little bit, okay?” She stood up and pulled the blanket up over the mom’s shoulders. We tiptoed out of there.
“I’m really glad you’re here, Jules,” I told her once we’d made it into the hall. “You’re so much better at this than I would be.”
She shrugged modestly. “I’m not much of a fighter, so I’m helping however I can. I just wish I could be in more than one place at a time. Everyone here could use a friendly face. And a babysitter.”
“Got you covered there.” I waved to Frank, who freed himself from his flock of new admirers and lumbered toward us. He no longer had my cat in his arms, but I could see her being cooed over by starry-eyed kids.
“That guy doesn’t look so good, Vic,” Jules murmured.
“Don’t worry. It’s a long story, but he’s on our side.” On the other end of the room, we met up with Deacon and Maya. Frank sort of wedged himself into the background, pulling his hat over his face. I spotted Trent’s lanky form leaning against the windowsill, his back to the blacked-out windows. He’d turned up after all. I resisted the urge to ask where the hell he’d been for so long. Deacon trusted him, and I trusted Deacon. The thought became a mantra in my head.