“Welcome,” Ian said, sounding anything but convivial. “Hope you enjoy the smell. A little more raw sewage, and it would be just like the place I grew up in.”
Another form appeared behind him. At some point since I’d last seen Tate, he’d shaved his face and shorn his hair into its usual buzz cut.
“Mr. Fancy Pants hasn’t stopped bitching since he arrived,” he muttered. Then Tate frowned, looking farther down the empty street.
“Why do you have a bunch of ghosts following you?”
I turned to see at least two dozen ghosts trailing about fifty yards behind us. Good. We’d been hoping Marie’s borrowed power would lure nearby spooks like they were moths and I a shining flame. Detroit was a large city, and though Ian and Tate had scented Katie in several spots, they hadn’t managed actually to set eyes on her.
Now we had reinforcements, and thanks to the grave power running through my veins, the ghosts would be compelled to obey my commands.
“Where do you think you have Katie’s location narrowed down to?” I asked, avoiding Tate’s question.
His frown said he noticed my omission, but he replied without further comment.
“From what we’ve gathered, she moves around, but her scent has been strongest at the old book depository, the former Packard auto plant, former Central Station, and the old church on East Grand Boulevard.”
“Thanks.”
Then I faced the ghosts, who drifted closer at my beckoning wave.
“I need you to find a little girl for me,” I told them. “She’s about four feet tall, auburn hair, and her eyes might glow. She’s probably hiding in one of the places my friend just mentioned. If you see her, only tell me or this ghost here.” As I nodded at Fabian.
My entourage dispersed as soon as I finished speaking. Fabian left with them before I could specify that he wasn’t included in the order. Tate shook his head in disbelief, but a knowing look crossed Ian’s face.
“You’re back on Marie’s sauce.”
Bones flew up to the roof. I followed, landing with only an additional extra step to balance myself.
“Yes,” I said shortly.
“What sauce? And who’s Marie?” Tate wondered, reminding me that he’d missed a lot while working for Don these past years.
“Not relevant at the moment,” Bones stated. “These new developments are.”
I said nothing while he brought them up to speed on Richard Trove’s being a demon and why he’d backed Madigan for nearly a decade. I still didn’t speak when Bones disclosed that Katie was my biological daughter, and how that was possible. Only after Ian asked, “If she’s the mother, who’s the father?” did I break my silence.
“The records Trove published never gave a name. Since the sperm donor was a hundred percent human, he was considered . . . unimportant.”
Then I paused. I’d gone back and forth over revealing this next part, but so much had been kept from me that I couldn’t do the same to someone else. Especially a friend.
“I asked Madigan, but all we got out of him was that it was one of the soldiers I was working with at the time,” I finished.
Tate let out a disgusted snort.
“That’s why they kept getting samples of every fluid in our bodies. Don said it was to make sure no one was drinking vampire blood on the side, so even he must not have known what it was really for . . .”
His voice trailed off as the dots connected. Then he sank to his knees as if buckling under the weight of the realization. I wasn’t as affected because I’d already done the math. About two dozen soldiers had been working with me during my first year. Some had been killed on missions, more had dropped out from the stress, and some had transferred to other divisions, but only one had been there the entire time.
“My God,” Tate breathed.
“It’s not definite,” I said softly. “It could have been one of the other guys, but Tate . . . even if we tested both of you, there’s no way to be sure. Since you became a vampire, every cell in your body changed. Katie’s would’ve, too, once they added ghoul DNA to her genetic makeup.”
Tate still looked shell-shocked at the possibility that the little girl he’d been trying to find might be his biological daughter. Finally, he ran a hand through his hair and looked up at me.
“If tests are useless, she’ll never know who her father is.”
Bones slipped his hand into mine, his grip strong and sure.
“She will always know who her father is.”
That had Tate on his feet in a flash. Ian hauled him back when he lunged at Bones.
“You will not—” Tate began before his mouth froze along with the rest of him.
“That’s better,” Bones said in satisfaction.
I didn’t appreciate his method of stemming Tate’s argument, but in fairness, we were short on time.
I bridged the distance between them and touched Tate’s clenched fist, which had been frozen in place mid-swing.
“You have a one-in-twenty-something chance of being her biological father, so if you want to be part of Katie’s life, of course you can. Bones won’t stand in your way, but he’ll be there for her, too. As will I.”
Then I angled myself so Tate couldn’t avoid my gaze.
“But first, we have to get her out of here alive. That takes priority over everything else, doesn’t it?”
Tate blinked, which I took for a yes. Bones released him. The two men stared at each other while Tate shook his limbs as if to reassure himself that they were back under his control. Then his hands clenched, and a look of pure determination crossed his features.
Not again, I thought, expecting him to swing at Bones once more. Relief filled me when all Tate did was stick out his hand.
“I don’t like you, and I probably never will, but from this day forward, I’m willing to call a truce for Katie’s sake.”
Bones shook his hand with a brief, sardonic smile.
“Truce accepted, and while I feel the same way, just like Justina, seems now I’ll never be rid of you, either.”
Tate let out a bark of laughter. “I forgot this truce includes her mother. That’s some ugly karma the two of us are working off.”
Fabian flew onto the roof, stopping Bones from whatever his reply would have been.
“They’ve found her!” the ghost announced.
“That was bloody quick,” Ian muttered.
It was, but then again, no one could hide from the dead. Especially when they had you narrowed down to a small area. That’s why we’d dealt with Marie first instead of rushing here. She hadn’t known Katie was in Detroit, but with a little time, she would’ve found her.
I flashed a tight smile at the four men, feeling the vampire version of adrenaline surging through me.
“All right, boys. Let’s go get our girl.”
We landed on the roof of a large, square building with graffiti covering every inch of the safety ledge. Across the street, a far taller building blocked out the moonlight, its beautiful architecture in stark contrast to the rot I could smell within.
“Where are we?” I whispered.
“The Roosevelt Warehouse,” Bones said, also keeping his voice very low. “More commonly known as the Detroit book depository. Tunnels connect it to the old train station across the street. Perhaps that’s how Katie’s been traveling back and forth between the two.”
Fabian nodded, looking sad as he glanced around.
“I came here before, when it was new. I love books, but it’s so hard for me to read. I have to float behind people as they turn pages—”
“Fabian, where did the ghosts say Katie was?” I interrupted.
He snapped out of his reminiscing. “Follow me.”
Fabian passed through one of the barricaded doors of the hut-like structure on the roof. Impatience made me want to kick
it open, but that would be too loud. I waited while Bones telekinetically pulled out the boards, then opened it as quietly as the rusted hinges allowed.
I still flinched at the noise it made, that creaking sounding like two pots banging together with my frazzled nerves. Once inside, it only took a glance at the deteriorated metal staircase to make me mime a “we’re flying” directive.
Bones grabbed Tate, holding him with an ease that belied the other vampire’s heavier build. Soundlessly, we streaked down the stairwell, following Fabian, who weaved in and out of the narrow space until he disappeared through another door.
This one wasn’t boarded up. It was cracked open, letting in a putrid whiff of the smell beyond. I pushed myself through with as little sound as possible, my gaze widening at the room beyond.
The scent of old smoke was almost overpowered by the odor of rotting paper, urine, death, and desperation. Books, magazines, and manuals lined the floor a foot deep in places, the ink almost unreadable from time and exposure to water. Small creatures had made nests in the literary rubble, some of them still there, though in varying states of decomposition.
From the smell, they weren’t the only bodies in this room, but as Fabian beckoned me onward, I didn’t pause at the shoe sticking out from a pile of ruined parchment. That person was long past my ability to help, anyway.
The scent of fresh smoke teased my nose the closer I got to the end of the room. Fabian paused, hovering near the ceiling, and pointed down.
Candlelight cast a faint amber glow amidst a pile of books stacked up like a partial igloo. At my angle, I couldn’t see over it, so I went higher, brushing the decaying ceiling in my eagerness.
I caught a glimpse of a little girl crouched over a half-rotted book when plaster crumbling from my nearness jerked her head up. Our eyes locked, and as I watched, hers began to turn bright, glowing green. My dormant heart began to beat in an erratic, staccato rhythm from the excitement that gripped me.
She was alive, well, and—once we got her out of here—safe.
“Katie,” I breathed, flying faster toward her.
Her hand snapped up as if she were waving at me. Then something burned in my chest. Bones dropped Tate and grabbed me, spinning me around. That made the burning sensation worse, but I still strained to see Katie before the intensity of the pain finally made me look down.
A knife jutted out from between my breasts. The handle was some strange combination of paper and old leather, but from the fire that spread through my body, the blade was silver.
Thirty-three
I’d forgotten how much it hurt to be stabbed in the heart with silver. Most vampires only felt that once; lucky me, this was my third time. As awful as the pain was, it didn’t frighten me as much as the weakness that made every muscle limp with instant paralysis. Then came the blurred vision and blunted hearing that caused everything to seem very far away. Only the pain was near, burying the rest of my senses under a merciless cascade of agony.
That grew with unbearable ferocity as the knife in my chest moved. Someone screamed, a shrill, anguished sound. I would have fled in any direction to escape the terrible pain, except my limbs didn’t work. Worse, a great, oppressive weight bore down on me, crushing me.
Maybe the building had collapsed, a still-functioning part of my mind reasoned. That would explain the crushing sensation and feeling like the knife jerked with brutal, scissoring motions. If so, I should be dead already, so why did it still hurt so much—
Another scream tore out of me, and I convulsed as nerve endings surged with sudden, spastic motion. Then I saw the glint of moonlight on a red-smeared blade before it crumpled as though being smashed by an invisible fist.
“Kitten?”
Pain faded with his voice, leaving me dizzy with relief. Weakness was slower to release its grip, though, so it took me two tries to sit up.
“Where’s Katie?” were my first words.
A muscle flexed in Bones’s jaw.
“Don’t know. She ran after she threw the knives.”
I jumped up and promptly started to fall because my legs refused to hold me. Bones caught me before I landed in the pile of books he’d laid me on.
“Why didn’t you stop her?” I moaned. “You could have frozen her in place with your power!”
His grip tightened, the light from his gaze brightening until it shaded everything around us green.
“That blade landed directly in your heart,” he replied through gritted teeth. “I concentrated all of my power on immobilizing it and the tissues around it so you wouldn’t die right in front of me.”
His aura cracked as he spoke, blasting my emotions with a geyser of rage, relief, and fear. Maybe it was good that he hadn’t used his power on Katie. If he’d touched her with it while he was this upset, he might have accidentally killed her.
I gripped his jacket, both to steady myself and to pull him closer.
“She doesn’t know any better, Bones. It’s up to us to teach her.”
“Not if she keeps trying to kill you,” was his instant reply.
Our first parenting fight. Figures it would be over something life-threatening instead of how late she could stay up to watch TV.
“I should have known better than to zoom up to her when she didn’t know who I was or if I was there to hurt her. It won’t happen again.”
Then I rested my head against his chest, letting out a snort.
“As if we didn’t already know, this proves she’s my daughter. I used to stab vampires first and introduce myself afterward, too.”
A dark sound escaped him, but some of the rage eased from his aura.
“I recall it well, Kitten.”
Crashing noises below had me spinning out of his arms. I only made it a few feet before it felt like I had run right into an invisible wall.
“You just promised to be more careful,” Bones said in an exasperated voice. “Dashing off with a barely healed tear in your heart is the opposite of careful, Kitten!”
Right. It might take days for me to be back to full strength, and Katie was faster and more skilled than I’d realized. If only the logical part of my brain weren’t three steps behind my newly awakened maternal instincts, I’d act with much more prudence.
“You go first,” I said. See? Very cautious.
Bones gave me a short, fierce kiss, then stalked past me, cracking his knuckles as if in anticipation.
“Remember, no punishment for what she did,” I warned him. “She’s just a little girl.”
His predatory smile didn’t ease my concern.
“You only learned the hard way, luv. If she’s demonstrating your tendencies, then there’s only one way to handle her.”
The crashing noise had come from the basement, where one of many rickety spiral staircases led to the building’s dank underbelly. I followed Bones’s lead and jumped down since they didn’t look like they could hold Katie’s weight, let alone an adult’s. This part of the old depository had more dirt than books, and if the commotion ahead didn’t point the way, several sets of new footprints did.
“She’s heading for the tunnels!” I heard Fabian say.
My pace quickened, but my legs still felt wobbly. Damn lingering effects of my heart being punctured with silver. I hadn’t been this weakened after having my whole body pumped full of it.
“You said this building connects to the train station beneath the street?”
Bones nodded, slowing down to drape a hard arm around me, supporting me. He must have caught my slight wobble.
“The train station will have even more tunnels,” I said in growing concern. “We could lose her in the underground labyrinth, which must be why she’s running there.”
Smart girl, I thought, and felt a surge of pride even as I shook Bones’s arm off.
“You’re faster. Leave me and get her. I’ll
be right behind you.”
“Katie!” Tate yelled, his voice starting to echo. “Stop!”
Bones raked me with a gaze, as if judging my capabilities, then turned and flew, streaking into the darkness ahead. I tried to fly as well—and promptly face-planted into the ground.
“Ugh,” I groaned before spitting out what I hoped was dirt. Then, with a slight stagger, I got up and began to run in the direction Bones had disappeared.
“If you’d listen to reason, poppet . . .”
Ian’s voice bounced off the walls before I heard a hard, thwacking sound, then an indignant, “Why, you little guttersnipe!”
His voice had held distinct undertones of pain and surprise. Despite feeling like death warmed over, I smiled. Looks like I wasn’t the only one Katie had gotten the drop on.
“Enough.”
Bones’s voice, accompanied by a crack of power I felt though I was a couple hundred yards behind him. I ran faster, almost tripping over garbage and debris in my haste. When I rounded a corner that opened up into a boiler room, I stopped at the sight that greeted me.
Ian’s shirt had a wide gash, revealing a crimson slash on his pale abdomen that was still healing. By comparison, Tate had fared much better. He only had a red-stained slice in his shoulder and more fresh blood coating his forehead.
Bones didn’t have a mark on his all-black ensemble. He stood in the corner of the room, his hand held out as though hailing a cab.
Katie was suspended in midair about fifty feet from him, her legs kicking at nothing since the ground was nowhere near her feet.
I came closer, savoring my first full view of her that didn’t involve a grainy video. Her auburn hair was now almost black from dirt, old soot, or both. She’d tied it into a ponytail with a strip of plaid material she must have cut from the bottom of her too-big shirt. An equally large pair of pants were rolled up at the ankles and belted onto her thin frame with more plaid material. Her shoes also looked several sizes too big, but she’d wrapped string tightly around her feet to keep them from falling off.
If she’d gotten creative with her borrowed clothes, that was nothing compared to the knives she clutched in those small, pale hands. The blades consisted of broken glass filed down to precision points, with leather book covers and tape making up the handles. Silver glinted along the edge of blades, causing another swell of twisted parental pride. She’d almost killed me with one of her homemade knives, but damned if she didn’t have skill. It would have taken her hours to melt enough silver to coat those blades, and despite their weight being off with the handles, she’d still managed to throw one right into my bull’s-eye zone.
Up From the Grave Page 21