“Yeah, yeah,” said Crimson. “That’s fine.” Or he thought it was anyway. They were already in the room, after all. No one to see them come, and if Alcander was here, then (he assumed) he could also make it so no one would see them go.
Alcander walked over to the computer and hit several keys. The image on the screen shifted to a view of the hotel lobby. A woman in a blue dress entered through the front door. She paused at the front desk to ask a question of the attendant.
“She was at the club,” said Jasper. Externally, the half-blood looked quite calm, but in the otherwise silent room, the sound of his heartbeat was deafening. When Ivory Goldwin had come tearing at him on eight legs with a mouth full of fangs, it had beat faster than this, but only just. “She was following you.”
“Guess it’s our turn, then,” replied Crimson. He wondered if the clerk was her contact, or if she was just trying to blend in. More likely, she was asking him if he had seen them. While she was lingering near the desk, two others entered. A young man and the long-haired girl Jasper had been watching. Something about the girl didn’t sit right with him either—he’d seen her before Jasper keyed him into the fact that she was a Hunter, but not long before. The trio started moving towards the elevators before he could quite suss out where and when. “Can you…?”
“On it,” said Alcander. The view switched to an overhead camera inside the lift. Gods, these mortals hid the little electronic spies everywhere these days. And to think this country claimed to value “privacy.” What a pain in the ass. He watched the three of them. The youngest woman was standing in the corner of the lift, her ponytail draped over her shoulder, twisting the end absently around her finger. “They are coming to this floor,” continued Alcander.
And then it clicked, and Crimson whirled on Jasper. “Tying up loose ends, Jazz?” He remembered where he’d seen her now. Jasper had been talking to her when Crimson got to the club, and she’d cleared out as soon as he arrived, a full twenty minutes earlier than he said he would in his text message. “You had me goin’ for a bit there, I’ll give you that.”
“Crimson,” said Jasper, very slowly, very deliberately, “you’re being very paranoid right now.”
That’s just what a Hunter would say, said the Spider.
It’s also probably what a normal person would say, said Zahir, his human half. Considering what you just said.
“You would say that,” said Crimson aloud.
Jasper wasn’t looking directly at him but rather at a point just over his shoulder. “I told you I’m not a Hunter.”
“Tell me again. And this time fuckin’ look at me when you say it.”
Jasper’s eyes flicked to him and then quickly away, towards Alcander instead. What was that about? Just as quickly he was looking away again, not at either of them. The half-blood clenched his jaw so hard a muscle in it jumped. “I’m not a Hunter,” he said, forcing his bright green eyes to focus. “Anymore.” He flinched from Crimson’s flashing eyes, but he didn’t turn tail and run. He was either very brave or very stupid. “Look, Crimson, let me explain. I… I haven’t been entirely truthful with you.”
The words hit him like hollow pangs, though they really shouldn’t have. This outcome was always in the cards, yet he felt blindsided. Betrayed. “No fuckin’ shit,” Crimson muttered. He bit down on his tongue to keep from saying more, to keep from shouting. The half-blood was doing the very thing he’d been trying to get him to do for weeks, and he didn’t want him to get scared and clam up.
“The night we met, I told you I wasn’t a Hunter because you would have killed me otherwise.” Jasper’s hands were still held carefully away from his weapon, a small tremor in the tips of his fingers.
Crimson risked glancing away from the Hunter, to the laptop on the bed. The view was taken from the hallway now, and the other Hunters were moving in their direction.
“I thought that’d be it, y’know?” Jasper’s voice drew his attention back to him. Crimson moved all at once, crossing the short distance between them in the blink of an eye and seizing the front of the Hunter’s jacket with a low growl.
“Crimson, don’t!”
He ignored Alcander. “Stop buying time. Talk.”
“You were nice to me,” said Jasper, now in a breathless rush. “It’s hard to get undercover operatives situated on the other side. My dad—Charlie, he thought it would be a good way in. So… he sent me to you.”
“Great,” said Crimson. The Spider came to the forefront, a layer of flesh the only thing separating him from his more beastly form. “Now I’ll know who to address the body bag to.”
“Crimson Apocalypse, that is enough!” He wasn’t accustomed to hearing Alcander raise his voice to him, even when he was angry, and he looked in his direction despite himself. This inadvertently brought his gaze to the laptop. The Hunters were on their floor now, but they were stopped at a door almost all the way at the other end of the hall. It opened and they passed inside.
Wait…
That didn’t make any sense. They should be coming here, to help Jasper.
Perhaps they just don’t want to blow his cover, suggested the Spider.
That doesn’t make any sense, you jackass. He warned you about the Hunters. Remember?
Alcander seized his elbow, tugging on his arm. For all the good it did him, he might well have been wrestling with a steel girder. “Crimson, let him go!”
Tell that dipshit vampire to fuck off. He’s crazy!
He’s your best friend.
“I wanted to tell you.” Jasper, terrified green eyes starting to well, gripped Crimson’s wrists, speaking almost as quickly as Alcander, talking over him, apologies tumbling from his lips as he tried to explain himself.
Crimson could hardly hear either of them through the internal screaming match between the two halves of his mind. He let go suddenly, taking several leery steps back. “Both of you shut up for a second!” He didn’t know whom he was talking to—Alcander and Jasper, or Zahir and the Spider, but either way it worked. Jasper and Alcander both lapsed into silence, though Alcander took a step between them. His fangs were showing, a glimmer of red underneath the gray making his eyes pink.
“I can’t believe you’re siding with a Hunter right now,” he told the vampire. Especially when at least four others were just down the hall.
“If you would actually listen instead of jumping wildly to conclusions, you would know that he is not a Hunter,” replied Alcander, a hiss below his words. He looked over his shoulder. “Jasper, it is okay. You can tell him the truth.”
“I was trying to,” said Jasper in a small voice, barely above a whisper. He paused, clearing the watery sound from his throat, and started again. “Look, I didn’t know you guys, alright? Once I got to know you, I knew I couldn’t go through with it. So I called Charlie. I told him I had to quit. I didn’t call those Hunters here. I swear—to God or on my mother’s grave or on whatever else you can think of—I am not with them. I’m on your side, Crimson. Yours.”
Crimson glowered at him. “You need to leave.”
Jasper made a small sound of distress, but nodded miserably, and went towards the closet to get his backpack.
“Leave the bag,” added the werespider. Perhaps all that Jasper said was true, but a turncoat could flip back to his original colors with the ease of a chameleon, and he didn’t need the Hunter adding his arsenal to theirs. He was dangerous enough all on his own. “I’ll give you five minutes to clear out of the building. Don’t stop and chitchat with your Hunter friends.” He gestured towards the laptop. “I’ll know if you do.”
“They’re not my friends. They’re here to take me back,” said Jasper. His heart sounded like a bongo drum. “To St. James.”
“Yeah, well, they can have you,” replied Crimson, though some of the venom had gone out of his voice. He chanced another look at the screen. There was no movement in the hallway, but he was sure they were watching. “You’d better get moving. Clock’s ticking.”
“Crimson, please—”
“Kid, if you knew me like you think you know me, you’d know you should take your chance to run while you’ve still got it.”
“But I don’t want to go back!” A note of panic, too pitchy to be false. Jasper pulled the sleeves of his jacket down over his knuckles and folded his arms over his chest. “I mean… I want to stay with you.”
Crimson’s eyes widened very slightly, the red wisping out of them like a candle suddenly extinguished.
“I don’t know what I can say to make this better,” continued Jasper. He laid a hand on Alcander’s shoulder, steering him gently aside. Alcander went, but not without a pointed glare at Crimson, and Jasper took his place, now reaching for Crimson’s wrist with both hands. His heart was beating so fast, Crimson could feel the pulse in his fingertips beating against his own. “I should have told you. Right away. But I couldn’t.” His throat clicked. “I was scared of how you would react. I fucked up. I know I fucked up, but you’ve got to believe me; I would never hurt you or Al.”
Crimson opened his mouth, sure that the words would just come out, like they always did, but this time they didn’t. He took a deep breath and pressed his eyes closed as he exhaled. He held them closed until he felt the pressure in his temples. Then he opened them again.
Jasper’s startling green eyes stared up at him, a high flush in his cheeks bringing out his freckles and complementing the soft pink of his lips. He didn’t want to think about what the Hunters would do to him, didn’t want, even, to think of what they had already done to him—this beautiful, powerful, unique, but painfully naive creature, crafted into a killing instrument probably before he was even old enough to drive a car. Hunters were not kind to familiars, and if Jasper thought Crimson’s reaction to treachery was bad, he would be in for a terrifying shock when St. James had him back in their clutches.
Don’t. You. Dare.
“Please,” said Jasper again.
“Yeah,” replied Crimson. “Okay.”
You fucking idiot.
Obviously, Jasper expected a bigger or much different reaction than this, because the words seemed to take a second to process. He made a small sound, half sigh of relief, half gasping laugh. “Really?”
“Yeah, sure. Why not?” There were about a million reasons, but as he’d figured out in the Summerlands, none of them felt quite as strong as the bittersweet twinge in his chest when Jasper smiled at him. It was stupidly optimistic, gambling his and Alcander’s lives on what amounted to a crush, but he couldn’t help it. He liked him. “Besides, who else is gonna help me with these godsdamned assholes? Alcander? Not fuckin’ likely.”
Jasper laughed again, the sound surer of itself. “God, thank you.” He squeezed his arm again, his hands folding around Crimson’s, holding it tightly. “Thank you.” There was that smile again, relieved and hopeful and maybe something else. Jasper let go all too soon, turning away for the moment it took him to wipe his eyes with his sleeve. His heart began to slow.
“Okay,” he said, the tremor fading from his breath, his voice losing its near-hysteric tone, smoothing out some. Jasper looked at him, giving him a tentative smile. Crimson felt himself smile back.
He hoped he wasn’t making a huge mistake.
“Okay,” said the half-blood again, like he was still convincing himself. His eyes flitted away, guilt evident in them, looking to Alcander and to the computer screen, which now showed the empty hallway. “Can you go back with that thing? Find out how many we’re dealin’ with? We’ve got a plan to make.”
Chapter Eighteen
—
Happy Hunting
It was early afternoon when Alcander cut the feeds for the second time. They timed the moment deliberately, waiting until the hotel was at its busiest so they could attempt to blend in with the crowd of guests coming and going. Three of the five remaining reeds would be used to mask their individual auras and, with any luck, once they were amongst the crowd, it would be easy to slip away undetected.
Jasper believed the Hunters valued their secrecy enough to try to avoid causing too much of a scene, but knew also they could be very clever when it came to finding ways around being detected by civilians. It wasn’t much of a plan, and more of a gamble than he preferred, but it would have to suffice.
Jasper, Crimson, and Alcander moved out into the hall, Crimson taking point and Jasper following in the rear, with Alcander in between them.
The elevator was too dangerous; if the Hunters had some way of stopping it, they would be trapped and, frankly, selfishly, Jasper didn’t want to be stuck in a lift with two panicked demons should something go wrong. Not that he thought they would harm him, more that it simply didn’t seem like his idea of a good time.
They made for the stairs at a run. Crimson reached the door at the end of the hall and was shouldering it open when the door Jasper was tasked with watching popped open a sliver. “Behind us,” hissed Jasper, his voice soft so only the demons would hear.
#
The demons had been quiet all night. Ryan, his eyes heavy with sleeplessness, sat at his computer, at the desk near the window, and watched the identical lines of unmoving doors, the empty hallway. Holly and Constance were sharing a room four levels down, and Stefan and Colt were two levels below that.
Constance’s assessment of Jasper was grim. She didn’t think it was a good idea to contact him and attempt to coerce him out of the demons’ company. It was Selena who decided they would attempt to capture him instead.
Holly and Constance set the trap days ahead of time—a warding charm on the twenty-eighth floor, one in the stairwell and one in the elevator. They’d only held off thus far to make certain they had all their ducks in a row. They intended to spring the trap late at night, when other patrons were unlikely to interfere.
Selena was suspicious of the pair’s behavior, and she decided they would keep an eye on them every waking moment. So Ryan was doing just that, but it was boring, and he found it difficult to focus for hours and hours on what was essentially nothing. He rubbed his eyes and stood up, stretched his arms and cracked his bones, then turned towards Selena, who was sleeping in the bed nearest the window, to tell her it was her shift.
“Hey, Captain, you wanna…” He did a double take. The feed went black very suddenly. A moment later, it went blue, with the same error message he’d received the other night. “Shit,” said Ryan. “Captain, wake up!”
Selena was up and out of the bed like she’d fallen asleep with a syringe of adrenaline under her pillow. “The cameras?” she guessed.
“Yeah, they just went—”
With the newer comms acting so buggy, they had switched back to good old-fashioned radio. “Teams Beta and Delta, be alert.” She made for the door, opened it a sliver, and used a compact mirror from her pocket to check the hall. At the far end, the reflection of moving shapes could be seen heading towards the stairwell.
Three moving shapes, to be exact.
The vampire never went with them. Not in all the time they had been here. They were either running or taking him hunting, and either way, it was unacceptable. “Targets are on the move. Singer, Alder, take preventative measures.”
This was hardly ideal, but if the three of them made it out of the city, it was very likely they wouldn’t be able to find them again, and Selena did not want to take the risk. Gesturing curtly for Ryan to grab his weapon, she stepped out into the hallway and ran after them.
#
Crimson was tearing down the stairs in leaps and bounds, only pausing occasionally to throw a snarl over his shoulder for Alcander to “keep up.” Jasper called from behind to let him know someone was following them, and Crimson looked back towards Alcander, opened his mouth to yell at him for the third time, and ran headlong into… something.
It felt like a brick wall, but unlike a brick wall, it was invisible, and the impact came with a surge of electricity that wrapped him in its arcs and threw him backwards. His back slammed into Alcander, taki
ng the feet out from underneath him. Jasper threw on the brakes, skipping on the tip of his toe for two steps before catching his balance on the railing.
There was the sound of feet on the steps above. The short-haired woman, now in a long blue coat nearly the same color as the dress had been, pointed her gun over the railing above them and squeezed the trigger several times, but all three of them drew back against the wall, out of line of sight.
She was only a few levels above them, and if she bottlenecked them here, with the Hunters no doubt approaching them from the other levels, Crimson was pretty sure they were going to die. He looked up, scanning the wall until he found what he was looking for. “Smoke detector.” He pointed to it, and the way Jasper understood immediately what he was trying to say was something that could be taught, but only with years and years of training. He dropped his backpack on the floor, ripped the zipper open, and grabbed one of the half-dozen bargain-bin novels he’d collected at various gas stations and rest areas on their way to Miami. Crimson, Zippo already lighted, held the flame to the pages, and they plumed with brilliant orange flames, black smoke rolling off in clouds. Crimson dropped the Zippo, clasped his hands together to make a foothold, then boosted Jasper up to the little white circle high on the wall.
The Hunter rounded the last bend in the stairs just as the fire alarm began to wail, her gun already raised, Crimson squarely in her sights. Jasper fired before she could, and she threw herself behind the railing divider. The half-blood jumped down, firing once more for cover, and Crimson drew his gun, turning to look first towards the door beside them, then down the stairs.
“Jasper,” called the woman’s voice, “we’re here to help you. Put the gun down and step away from the demon.”
#
“I thought you said they were in the stairwell,” hissed Constance’s voice in Selena’s ear.
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