Camera Obscura (A Novel of Shadows Book 1)

by Christina Quinn

  “C’mon, let's grab a coffee,” she commanded as she walked me back down the hall to the elevator I just got off.

  “Sure, coffee sounds good.”

  “What was so urgent it couldn’t wait until later?” We got on the elevator, and she hit the button for the ground floor.

  “Emmanuelle, are you acquainted with her?”

  “Depends on what your definition of acquainted is.” She smirked.

  “I know you two came up together. I was just wondering if you could set up a meeting.”

  “What would this meeting be for? Do you need to ask her questions or is it the type of meeting you shouldn’t be talking about in a police station?”

  “The latter.” The doors opened, and we walked outside into the cold. “Balls!” I hissed hastily zipping up my coat. It had dropped a good ten degrees since I pulled up. Outside there was a food truck. Before any more was said Fiona ordered us coffee, and we stood at the little table set up with milk and sugar, doctoring the piping hot beverage to our liking.

  “Is this a judgment from the Camera Umbra?”

  “Nah, I just felt like taking her out because I’m bored.” I poured an obscene amount of creamer into my cup as Fiona laughed.

  “What did she do?”

  “She’s wrapped up in the whole Cult of Isis thing,” I lied pressing the plastic lid in place with numb fingers.

  “When do you want this to go down?”

  “Today if possible, and I kind of want to do it from a distance.”

  “Why?”

  “Why? Because it’s Emmanuelle, that’s like me trying to take you out.”

  She snickered and sipped her coffee. “She’s not that good.”

  “You’re just saying that because you’re… well, you.”

  She chortled. “Maybe.” Her phone rang, and she rolled her eyes as she removed it from her pocket. Her lips pursed as she stared down at the screen. “Speak of the devil, and she shall appear,” she murmured before pressing a finger to her lips. She answered the call. “Grey...Oh, hi. Yeah, long time… can I what? Yeah, I could do that. Do you have go bag already? Mhm… alright, swing by around seven. Mhm, yeah…see you then.” She hung up and slipped the phone into her pocket. “She’s going to come by my place at seven if you didn’t catch that. If you can get on the roof of the building across the street, you could probably take her out with a rifle.”

  “So I take it she’s not your friend?”

  “She fucked my first boyfriend while I was still dating him. Holding a grudge is one of my bad habits.” She grinned and started back into the building. “See you at seven. Oh, since you’ll be by want to stick around for dinner? Monday makes a wicked meatloaf.”

  “Sure.”

  “Great.” And just like that she was gone, leaving me holding my cup of coffee and wondering how I just ended up saying yes to a dinner invitation. Then again it was Fiona, and maybe if I went some of her awesome would rub off on me—or at least that’s what I was hoping.

  ****

  After leaving the police station, I went back toward the manor to switch out my phone like Davy had suggested. The line was longer than I would have thought. Most of the other shadows in the small room with its rich mahogany walls were young, barely out of training and clutching phones with shattered screens. They all gave me weird looks—probably because I wasn’t wearing standard Manor issued clothing. The only thing on me that said I was a Shadow was the tattoo at the nape of my neck, and even it was obscured by my hair.

  “Number sixty-eight,” the man behind the sterile white counter called curtly. Just by his tone, you could tell he didn’t want to be there. I was guessing injury. I checked my little ticket, and inwardly rejoiced upon discovering that I was number sixty-eight.

  When I approached the counter, he gave me a once over like he wasn’t impressed with whatever he saw. He pushed the white plastic portable scanner forward. Honestly, it looked like a tablet someone had connected to a computer by a USB cable. Still, I placed my hand on the cool glass, this time there was no warmth that accompanied the scan, there was only the computer beeping. “How can I help you?” the question was so banal, but the way he said it was almost accusatory.

  “I need replacements, these might have been compromised.” I put my earpiece and phone on the counter. He sighed and pulled a basket out from under it.

  “Those are old.” His lips twisted as he said old. “I’m going to upgrade you.” Sweet fuck all not an upgrade, I just learned how to use this one.

  “No thank you, I just need replacements.”

  “Sorry, no can do. You should be running Cameo 12; the phone you’re using isn’t compatible with Cameo 12.”

  “But—”

  “We’re not authorized to give out this model anymore.”

  “I just got that one last week.”

  “You shouldn’t have. Your Sybil will thank you for the upgrade, trust me. With Cameo 12, they can monitor your vital signs with the tracker. Also, there’s a new continuous ping mode.”

  “Is there anything set aside for me? Maybe in the back somewhere? A note on your fancy little monitor there that says Executioner Rose might smash your face on the counter if you don’t give her the phone she wants?” I beamed at him, but the smile was lost on Mr. Grumpy-pants-hates-being-behind-a-desk.

  He glanced at the screen, “No.” That was when he did a double-take, and his mouth went from ornery pucker to slack in shock. His brows furrowed and he looked up at me. “You should get to the infirmary.”

  “Why?”

  “Your Sybil was stabbed.” He set the box for the fancy new phone and ear piece on the counter. I didn’t register what he had said at first. Once it finally sunk in I snatched up the boxes and jogged out of the tiny little cell of a room. “Your phone will be activated in ten.” His voice was a warped near garbled mess to me. I ran down the hall as fast as my legs could carry me, rushing for the infirmary.

  Who the fuck would stab Davy of all people? He was likable, friendly even. There wasn’t a single Shadow who met him who didn’t think he was just the bee’s fuckin’ knees. I could guess what happened even though I didn’t want to acknowledge it. My little project of cleaning house had placed Davy in the crossfire. If he died, I would never be able to forgive myself. I might have been a sociopath, but Davy was mine. I might not have wanted to bone him, but that didn’t make him any less my possession.

  ****

  Upon reaching the infirmary, I was shocked by the number of doctors and nurses milling about. Usually, the place was quiet, but now, it was a sea of blurred bodies. Seated against a wall with hands and gray shirt covered in blood was Cis. If looks could kill, the moment he saw me I would have exploded into a thousand tiny pieces. The glare said more than anything he could have voiced, he blamed me—and he was right to. I couldn’t sympathize with him, I only felt scorching anger that singed my insides eating way at the pit of me.

  “What happened?” I inquired, wetting my lips.

  Cis drew a ragged breath. He had been crying, and a part of me wished I could feel a tenth of what he was, to experience that sadness that Davy deserved.

  “He couldn’t sleep, so he went to get some tea in the cafeteria. While at the beverage station Sybil Ivan came up behind him and stabbed him six times before Davy was able to get the knife away. He managed to kill Ivan before passing out from blood loss. He’s been in surgery since.”

  “Who was Ivan Sybil to?”

  “Executioner Blaine.”

  Cis’s words made me wince and look at the white metal doors that I knew from person experience lead to surgery.

  “Have you heard from Nate?”

  “He’s finishing up, so it’s that whole forty-eight hours of silence thing he’s so fond of.” He pursed his lips. “No offense, Rose, but what the fuck are you wrapped up in?”

  I scratched the back of my neck. “You say Nate’s dark for forty-eight hours?”

  “Yeah, he made last contact this morning.�
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  “For Davy, we need to finish this.”

  “Before I agree, what is this exactly?” He crossed his arms and continued to glower up at me. That was when I explained everything to him, and his mouth fell agape for a few seconds. “And what if I don’t believe you?”

  “Then I guess I’m going to go without a Sybil while I finish cleaning up this mess and… start preparing for the worst.”

  “Are you really going to take him out?”

  “I have to. I don’t see a happy ending to this if he’s allowed to continue with his plans. So far he’s killed those who refused to go along with him.”

  “Except for you.”

  “Yeah, except for me. He has some weird fucked up infatuation with me.”

  “Alright, I’ll Sybil for you until Nate makes contact again.”

  “Thanks, it means a lot to me.”

  He snorted. “As much as I like you, Rose, I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing this for Davy.” Oh yeah, that whole love thing.

  “Gotcha.”

  “I’m two-two-six-four.”

  “Alright, how long do you need to get ready?”

  “They said he won’t be out of surgery for a few hours. I can work from my laptop.”

  “Davy said that’s really unsecure.”

  He chuckled. “Davy is paranoid.” With his words, his laughter died abruptly, and he closed his eyes for a handful of seconds before opening them and sighing. “It’ll be fine. If I connect remotely, no one will be able to piggyback and read your location.”

  “There are two left on the list, Leo and Emmanuelle.”

  “Holy fuck, you’re going after Emmanuelle?”

  “From a nice safe distance.”

  “She killed a guy with a spoon once, Rose. A spoon.”

  “I have a plan in place for her, and if it falls through I should be far enough away to run to safety.” I snickered.

  “Be safe. Remember, two-two-six-four.”

  With a wave, I left. A normal person would have stayed, waited to hear the fate of their friend. I wasn’t normal, and because I wasn’t normal I didn’t quite grieve—I got revenge. With the direct culprit dead, that only left Leo, Emmanuelle, and Thorn to take the brunt of my vengeance, and I knew only their blood could quench the burning in the pit of my stomach.

  ****

  Once outside, I sat in my car and set up my new phone, pairing it with the earpiece which took six tries because technology hates me. Slipping the earpiece in I wiggled my jaw a bit, as much as I liked the new design that let me hear around me clearer, I hated the way the plastic felt in my ear. I entered Cis’s number into the phone and pressed call.

  “Hello again, Rose.” It was so weird to not hear Davy’s stupid quips. I almost didn’t know what to say next.

  “I need you to get me Leo’s location.”

  “Gimmie a sec.”

  “Oh, and if you betray me, or tattle this to someone. I swear to fuck I’ll rip your dick out through your throat.”

  “That… that’s not even possible.”

  “Are you sure, Cis? Are you sure enough to test me on that?”

  “Nope. Okay, Leo is… Hmm.”

  “Hmm?”

  “He’s not showing up.”

  “Urgh.” I hit my forehead against the steering wheel.

  “Don’t fret, let me try something. Even if he took the chip out, I could still find out when he last had it in. Ah! Okay, he still has his chip in; his Sybil is just masking his signal, so he’s not pinging back directly.”

  “That’s gibberish to me, just tell me where he is so I can put a bullet in him.”

  “He’s a—fuck.”

  “What?”

  “He’s here.”

  “In the building?”

  “I believe so, yes.”

  “Can you give me a floor?”

  “I can do better than that. He’s in his room in the dorm.”

  “Great…” I grabbed the suppressor out of the glove compartment and got out of the car. “I have a better idea; what stall is his Sybil in? And are they online?”

  “They’re in sixty, and they’re logged in. But whether or not they’re actually there—”

  “Yeah, yeah.” I slammed the door and started into the building.

  Maintenance was going to hate my guts, but it was necessary. If I went after the Sybil first, Leo wouldn’t be able to stop Cis from tracking him without stopping to dig the thing out of him—which would be awfully hard to do considering it was in the back of his neck. I took the stairs, I needed the extra time to screw in the suppressor. I was hoping Leo’s Sybil was like Cis and Davy, both had pillows in their little stalls for sleeping when they needed to be on twenty-four-hour call.

  On my way down the hall of tiny white rooms, I spied Davy’s with its door still ajar. I dipped in and grabbed his teal pillow. He’d approve of me using it to dispatch of Leo’s Sybil, and if not—well if he survived and bitched I’d just buy him another one, it was a pillow after all.

  Whistling to myself I walked down the hall passing a handful of Sybils milling about and minding their own business. None of them gave me a second look as I hid my gun behind the pillow. Upon reaching stall sixty, I took a small breath and knocked on the door.

  “I’m in session,” he called, and I knocked again. “Go away.” I pounded my fist, and he threw open the door. “Loo—” I fired twice into the pillow, each shot nailing its target one in the heart and head. He fell backward on top of his computer, the only sound that really registered was the thudding of his body as it toppled his computer to the floor. I tossed the pillow into the room and closed the door.

  “Done,” I reported to Cis as I unscrewed the suppressor and tucked it into my pocket.

  “That was quick.”

  “Well I’m nothing if not efficient, it’s the upside to being what I am—no pesky morals to get in the way.”

  “If you say so. He’s on the move, heading for elevator C. Want me to lock it down?”

  “You can do that?”

  “Mhm, and done. He’s between the third and fourth floors.”

  I grimaced even as I made my way to the stairs. “Just tell me I won’t have to crawl through HVAC vents.”

  “I’ll open the doors on four, and you just have to climb down, pop into the shaft and open the little escape hatch.”

  “You’re very down to business.”

  “This is a job.”

  “Shouldn’t you have fun with it, though?”

  “It’s kind of hard to enjoy anything at the moment with the man I love in surgery. I know you’re a little broken but couldn’t you at least pretend?”

  I rolled my eyes and took the stairs to the fourth floor in silence—there really wasn’t anything to say. Cis didn’t understand my problem like Davy did, hell even the way Nate did. He didn’t comprehend what I was lacking, and so there was this tone to his voice that read somewhat like contempt.

  Chances were he was hurting so badly he couldn’t wrap his head around why I wasn’t—or at least I like to think that’s the problem in these situations. I might be lacking the fundamental tick which makes it possible for me to love, but that doesn’t mean I don’t find how people express it beautiful—when they’re not being rendered into complete and utter morons by it.

  As I approached the elevator on the fourth floor, the doors opened without me even having to ask. Davy would have probably made a big production out of it, demanding that I thank him or worship at the altar of his genius for trapping Leo in the elevator. The thought stayed with me as I looked down the elevator shaft.

  “Thanks for this,” I muttered as I stared down at the car, it was a short jump, but after this morning I knew it would still hurt more than usual. For a handful of seconds, I contemplated just leaving him there.

  Contrary to popular belief and what’s often shown in television and movies, you cannot open an elevator’s emergency hatch from inside of the car. This meant Leo was trapped because the
car was literally between floors. If he managed to get the doors open somehow all he’d see was concrete and no viable escape. With a groan, I lowered myself carefully from the ledge as far as I could go and dropped myself the last two feet, landing with a grunt and an unfortunate thud that probably gave away that someone was on top of the car.

  “He drew his gun, careful.”

  Cis was too dry for me to work with him for too long. The whole cold, calculated thing was getting old fast. As I unlocked the emergency hatch, I seriously considered having him sit the rest of the day out. I considered it, but I knew it wasn’t possible. I needed him to find Thorn.

  Drawing my Glock, I leveled it with the little hatch, chambering a round. Leo was going to shoot the moment it opened. He was a trapped animal who knew its end was coming much sooner than he’d like it. Experience me taught me that no matter how easy this looked it was going to be messy. I didn’t know enough about Leo to anticipate everything. For all I knew he could be just as skilled at free running as I am, which meant after a little suppressive fire he’d be out of the hatch.

  For the most part, I was going in blind and that made me hyper-cautious. I flipped open the hatch with my foot and quickly withdrew it. Instantaneously there was a hail of gunfire, the noise in the mostly closed off shaft was nothing short of thunderous and all consuming—I couldn’t even hear myself think. A ricochet grazed my thigh, as familiar as the sting of the wound was I still reacted the same as anyone else.

  “Motherfuck!” I hissed clamping my hand over the wound. “Fuck you too, buddy.” I fired blindly into the hatch. Nothing sucks more than getting a wound you’re not prepared for, something about not expecting it seems to make it hurt more than if you are.

  “You should have a window soon if it was a fresh clip he only has 3 or so rounds left.” I flinched at Cis’s unfamiliar voice in my ear. Davy couldn’t die for the sheer fact that I didn’t want to get used to a new Sybil, let alone risk getting one like Cis. As much as I could tolerate Cis in a social setting, he had Nate’s all business coldness while Sybilling and I was too used to Davy.

  Leo fired two more rounds.

  “Go!” Cis shouted, and I peeked into the hatch and shot Leo three times. I took out his kneecap first. The gun fell out of his hand and then I put one center mass and one in his head. “That’s a little excessive.” Yep, I don’t care if they need to harvest my fucking organs Davy isn’t allowed to die.