The Culling (Book 2): The Hollow:

by Bell, A. C.

  I heard a sound like a slap and Alexandra’s cry rang out of the office, followed by muffled profanity. I was about to dash to the office when something touched the back of my head. The cock of a gun clicked. I held my hands up and let my pocket knife drop to the floor so he would see I was unarmed.

  “Well, well,” came a snide male voice behind me. “Lantz, we got company out here.”

  Before “Lantz” came out, I took advantage of this guy’s error in assuming I wasn’t strong enough to disarm him. I grabbed the gun with both hands and swung myself under it as it went off. He tried to pry his hand free, but couldn’t. Obviously. I reversed his elbow and he dropped the gun into my grip with a cry. Then I spun into him and struck back with my elbow, first in his chest and then his face. A kick to the gut sent him to the floor and I spun to face whoever Lantz was but froze, and not because of the gun he was pointing at Alexandra, who he held against him.

  My breathing became shallow. I would know that face anywhere, even years later. His hair was greying, his features had become more rugged with age, and deep rivets creased his forehead. But those eyes, those same grey eyes looked past me at the man on the floor.

  “You idiot,” he scoffed in a scratchy voice. Then he looked to me. “Drop it.”

  I lowered the gun to the floor.

  “Please, don’t hurt her, Isaac,” Alexandra pleaded, muffled by the gag fitted between her teeth.

  Lantz shook her. “Keep quiet, hun,” He muttered into her hair. She cringed away. Was he actually her ex-husband?

  “You…” I whispered, unable to pull my eyes away.

  Dark amusement glinted in his eyes. “Have we met?”

  I could only squeeze a few words through my tight throat. “My father…”

  This gave Lantz pause, however. He actually looked at me now and the amusement was stripped from his face. His eyes narrowed. “The girl. After all these years, what are the odds?”

  Alexandra’s dark eyes widened and brimmed with tears. “No…”

  I fought to stave off the tingling in my nose and pinched my lips together so they wouldn’t wobble. Was I really expecting to see some spark of humanity in him? “You remember, then.”

  “Do you think I make a habit of leaving witnesses?”

  A bright light flared from the right, followed by a crackling sound. “Fire!” The woman by the front called back. A blaring alarm filled the room. Lantz and I both looked and found the fire spreading across the wall. How had it flared so fast? A hand grabbed my wrist and tugged me down the nearest aisle. Orson ran straight for the wall and pulled me through it just as Lantz’s gun went off. We sprinted into the alley and I stopped fast.

  “Wait! They have Alexandra!”

  I pulled my hand free and sprinted down the alley and around the corner. The woman and the man I’d disarmed were hauling a struggling Alexandra through the open back door. Lantz’s head whipped around to me and he raised his gun, but Orson tackled me. I landed poorly. My chin struck the cement and my teeth rattled, the air leaving my lungs under his weight. Lantz shot again, but the bullet whizzed through my hair and embedded into the cement. He snarled and withdrew into the van after his people. They wouldn’t be able to get away. I grinned victoriously at their deflated tires, but my smile fell. Someone had filled them. Someone had been inside after all, probably waiting in the back. The van whirred to life and peeled out of the alley, nearly hitting a Buick driving past. No license, no logo, nothing for me to track.

  I threw my elbow up into Orson’s chest to get him off of me and rolled over to pin him down, my fist ready to strike. Orson kept his palms open to show he wouldn’t struggle.

  “How do I know you weren’t involved?” I shouted. “They came just minutes after you lured me next door.”

  “We didn’t do it, I swear! They must have been watching the store, too. We just came to warn you. We tried to warn Alexandra, but she’d already figured it out. But she wouldn’t leave.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know.” His lips pulled down, dark eyes replete. He seemed to be debating whether or not to say something “What you said in there. I’m sorry about your dad.”

  My anger faded a little, letting the sadness in. I let him go and sat beside him. “I always thought it was random.” I put my hands on my forehead, fingers in my hair, and dipped my head forward as tears forced their way free.

  “We should go,” Orson offered cautiously. “Someone from the SAU will be here soon.”

  A car pulled to a quick stop outside the alley and the screeching of tires drew my attention.

  I looked up. “They already are,” I said.

  Both Agents Morrison and Stokes stepped out of a dark SUV. That was a strangely fast response. The fire department wasn’t even here, yet. Morrison noticed us and started hurrying over.

  “You okay?”

  Orson bolted to his feet immediately and sprinted for the corner.

  “Wait!” Morrison hollered.

  I scrunched out of the way when he ran past me, but when he reached the corner, he stopped and looked confused.

  “He can go through walls,” I explained.

  Stokes crouched at my side. “Are you hurt?” he asked.

  I shook my head and he helped me to my feet while Morrison trotted back over.

  “Who and what is he and why did he run?” Stokes asked.

  Anxiety nibbled at my brain. I didn’t want to give him up. “I just met him. He helped me get out. He’s a dhampir, like me.”

  “Do you know why he was there?” Stokes asked.

  “I don’t know, to look at Alexandra’s books? He just helped me get out. He didn’t do anything wrong.” Except probably start the fire, but hairs didn’t need splitting here. “That doesn’t matter, a group of people just took Alexandra. I don’t know who they were.”

  “Could they have been trying to get into the basement?” Morrison asked?

  A red flag went up in my brain as it flooded with paranoia. “I don’t know, maybe, but they went that way in a white van. You have to find her!”

  Stokes gently patted my shoulder a few times. “Alright, it’s okay. We’ll find her.”

  I nodded noncommittally.

  “Is there something else?”

  I chewed sadly on the inside of my lip. “No.”

  I didn’t believe Mercer that Hunters were getting help from people in the SAU. It was just a conspiracy theory. But if I didn’t believe him, then why was I lying about not knowing who had done this? Why didn’t I give them the books?

  ***

  “Adeline?” Slade stooped to meet my eye. I hadn’t noticed him open the door to his apartment even though I was staring right at it. I now looked at whatever logo was on his shirt through eyes that wouldn’t focus, their attention focused inward on my mental distress. He picked up on my mood right away and gripped my arms. “What is it?”

  “I…I can’t go home. She’ll know something is wrong.”

  Slade’s hand found my back and he led me inside. I only partly took in the cozy atmosphere of their apartment and the many artistic furniture pieces. Since first coming here, I had learned that Slade had actually made most of it himself over the years. He steered me to the modernized grey cabriole sofa.

  “What’s wrong?” He asked, his pointed features scrunching in worry.

  “Alexandra and the store. The Hunters. He killed my father…” I sank onto the sofa and hoped he could gather enough information from that choppy little tidbit. From the way his grey-blue eyes widened, I guessed that, yes, ‘killed my father’ was enough to put him on alert.

  “Wait here.”

  He sprinted over to Raiden’s door and rapped his knuckles against it a few times, but didn’t wait for an answer before he opened it. I heard him reiterate what I’d told him in a hushed tone and moments later, Raiden hurried out. Slade pulled a phone from his pocket and shut himself in Raiden’s room and then Raiden and I were alone.

  Suddenly I was embarrassed
to be here, for him to see me like this. Weak and vulnerable. I looked away, let my dark hair hide my face. But then, kneeling in front of me, his fingers gently grazed my cheek as he brushed my hair away. I mustered the courage to look into his green eyes. Caring green eyes that filled me with something resembling calm. His hand started to glow and my chin tingled. I’d forgotten about the scuff mark from when I'd hit the concrete.

  “What happened?” He asked.

  “Some people, Hunters, came and took Alexandra.”

  “What? Why?”

  “I don’t know,” I lied. “But one of them was the man who shot my father.”

  His brows pulled together, a deep frown etching into his “You’re sure?”

  I could only manage a feeble nod. Raiden moved to sit beside me and drew me against him. I put my head on his chest and listened to the rhythmic pattern of his heartbeat while he stroked my hair. I knew he wouldn’t ask, not about something that would cause me pain, but I’d already made up my mind to tell him.

  “Dad was late getting home from work. Mom usually tried to wait up for him, but she had to be up extra early the next morning for the restaurant. I'd had a nightmare about the marshmallow monster from Ghostbusters—stupid, I know,” I said with a cynical little laugh at myself. Raiden shook in a silent chuckle. “He decided to take me to the corner store and get me a slushie to cheer me up, even though Mom wouldn't have approved of him giving me sugar so late at night. Then this guy in a hoodie came in and Dad hurried me down our aisle before he saw us, like he knew. Probably cop instinct.

  "When the guy pulled a gun on the cashier, Dad pulled me to the floor and gestured for me to be quiet. I remember not understanding why he suddenly looked so scared or why the man sounded so angry, but I didn’t ask. Instead, I moved to peek around the rack we were hiding behind like an idiot and when dad pulled me back, I accidentally knocked something over. I think it was a bag of chips.

  "The man shouted for whoever was hiding to come out and Dad told me to keep quiet and stay where I was before he went out. I kept peeking, anyway, of course. Dad just did as the guy said and stood at the counter with the poor terrified cashier girl while the man started searching the aisles for anyone else. Dad looked so scared when he looked at me. He gestured for the cashier to get down and she ducked behind the counter. Dad ran into the aisle next to where the guy was. He knocked over that rack like it was made of cardboard. I guess it wasn't because he was Superman like I'd thought at the time. While the man struggled to get out from beneath it, I ran out to congratulate Dad on catching the bad guy. I think I startled the guy. He pointed the gun at me kind of reflexively, but Dad got in the way."

  I felt myself well up and Raiden held me tighter. “It’s not your fault,” he said softly. “You were young, you didn’t understand what could happen.”

  I pushed to my feet and paced beside the coffee table. Slade had come back out at some point and was leaning on the wall, trying to stay out of the way. I gnawed on my thumb nail as my mind refused to sit still. “But was he already a Hunter then? Was my dad actually the target? Was the robbery just a cover up? He wasn’t even hurting people. He was a cop! He just wanted to help people! So why would they want him dead?”

  “I don’t know,” Raiden answered helplessly.

  A knock at the door startled me out of my rant. It opened without waiting to be answered and Nikki hurried in. Her face was pale and her eyes were red and puffy. “Slade called,” she explained. My lips wobbled under her knowing hazel eyes and she rushed forward, hugging me tight.

  ***

  I lay awake that night, listening to Nikki’s quiet breathing as she slept beside me. I stared up at the ceiling of Raiden’s bedroom, willing the decorative swirls in the white paint to make me drowsy. My phone buzzed on the nightstand as a text came in. I didn’t know the number.

  Can you talk?

  My heart rate picked up and my chest tightened. What if it was him? But no, why would he want to talk? And why would he be polite about it? It was Orson or Mercer, I realized. I slipped out from under the comforter and stuffed my feet into my shoes. Quietly, I turned the doorknob and eased it open. Raiden was asleep on the couch, on his stomach hugging a pillow. He was drooling a little. Endearment warmed my chest. My shoes squeaked ever-so-quietly on the shiny hardwood floor as I snuck past. Out in the safety of the hallway, I called the number.

  “You didn’t tell them about Orson. Thank you,” Mercer said in his thick accent.

  “It was the least I could do. He saved my life.”

  “I’m sorry that they got Alexandra.”

  “Me too. How do we get her back?”

  “First, I need you to bring me the books, if you still have them.”

  “I do. Where should I bring them?”

  “5th and Freemont. We’ll find you.” The line went dead.

  I debated bringing backup, just in case. The previous semester when Justin had been harassing me to keep me from finding out what he was doing to Nikki, I should have told someone and I knew that now. But was this different? Anyone I brought into this would inadvertently be in just as much danger and I had no idea if Mercer was right. What if part of the SAU or even the entire SAU really was dirty? I couldn’t throw any of them into that, not if they could stay safe and unaware. My second dilemma was about the books. Explaining their absence would be easy enough. I could simply say I’d given them to the SAU for their investigation. But by giving all of them to Mercer, I would be losing any advantage I had. I sorted through them in my trunk and decided to keep Solstice and Hidden Realms, which both referenced Purgatory.

  So, fifteen minutes later, I sat alone on a bench in the middle of the night, anxiety roiling in my gut as I patted the messenger bag stuffed with books on my lap. A pair of headlights turned onto the street down the block. Suddenly, my vision began to darken until it was completely black. I gripped both the bag and the bench, drawing panicked breaths.

  A thickly Scottish voice entered my mind. “Don’t be afraid.”

  “Mercer,” I growled frustratedly.

  “It’s merely a precaution. We’re pulling up now.” The sound of rubber against asphalt rolled up to the curb, confirming this. The engine remained on, but a door opened and shut. Footsteps neared.

  Orson’s deep voice filled my ears. “Hi again.”

  “You really don’t trust me?”

  “It’s more about protecting you. So is this.”

  I was about to ask what when he grabbed my arm and tugged me to my feet. The barrel of a pistol pressed against my lower back.

  “In case there are cameras,” Mercer’s disembodied voice explained in my head.

  “This way.” Orson lead me to the car and a door slid open. A van, then. “Step up. More.” His fingers touched the underside of my knee to help and I swatted his hand away.

  “Watch it,” I warned.

  I lifted my foot higher and up into the van. I had to move through a thick curtain that messed up my hair. Once the door shut and the curtains slid closed, my vision returned. I squinted against brighter lights than I expected and gaped. A full-sized room, fifteen by twenty feet, was fully furnished with a bed, dresser, wooden desk, bookcase, lamps, and a grey carpet. Mercer sat behind the desk, facing me like a tax consultant or something. Another wooden chair sat vacant across from him.

  “It’s bigger on the inside,” I gasped. He chuckled. “Do you live in here?”

  “For now. I find it safer to stay on the move.”

  Yeah, that’s probably safer when you think everyone's out to get you, I thought. Then I realized he might be able to hear me and froze. “How does the telepathy work?”

  “It’s not telepathy. Not exactly. It’s more like projecting my thoughts to you.” An amused grin stretched across his face, eyes flashing. “Don’t worry. Whatever criticisms you have are safe.”

  The van began to move and tipped around a corner. Everything jostled a little, but nothing fell over. None of the books even fell off their she
lves. “How is everything staying put?” I asked.

  “Magic. How else?”

  I glared at his condescending tone. “Here are the books. Now can we figure out how to get Alexandra back?” I lifted the bag, hesitating a moment before setting it on his desk. I suddenly felt relieved that I’d decided not to give him everything.

  “Thank you,” he said, making no move to reach for them. He just looked at me.

  “What?”

  “What is it about dhampirs that makes you so determined to throw yourselves in harm’s way?”

  “It has nothing to do with me being a dhampir. I’m training to be a cop like my dad.”

  “Orson tells me he’s dead. Are you so eager to follow him?”

  My face heated in anger. “I will fight for others as long as I have the power to do so. Call it whatever you want; reckless, stupid, I don’t care. I got her into this mess, so I won’t just leave her there.”

  “Haven’t you already done enough?”

  I scoffed. “That’s rich coming from the person who got me into this.”

  The van pulled to a stop. Mercer’s gaze stayed fixed on me. “Your friend is more than likely already dead. I won’t help you join her. I’m sorry. If anyone asks, tell them we got you to come to us by threatening someone dear to you.” With a muttered incantation and a wave of his hand, the van door slid open.

  I stood, glaring down at him. “Not all of us are cowards.”

  “Wait,” he said when I reached to open the curtain. I paused. “It has to look like you were thrown out.”

  The all too familiar sensation of being pushed by an invisible force was unsettling as I was thrown out of the van. I landed in the snow, but I was able to catch myself before rolling down a hill on the side of the sidewalk. The van veered away as the door slammed shut. I pushed to my knees and brushed the snow from my clothes in frustration. They’d brought me back to where I’d been. I threw up my hands and stomped over to Farrah in defeat. My anger was still flared up when I returned to Raiden and Slade’s apartment building. I slammed my car door shut louder than I intended.