“I love it when she’s ravenous.” Bub smirked at Abe’s wide eyes.
“Anyone hear from Kevin?” I asked around my mouthful of pizza. Abe shook his head and Bub frowned as he took a peek at his cell phone.
“Maybe he recalled a few more things we needed from the grocer?” Bub suggested. “I did tell him to keep his mitts off the goodies I purchased for dinner tonight—if you still have an appetite by then,” he added as I shoved the rest of my slice of pizza in my mouth.
I nodded and licked my fingers clean. “What about Jenni? Any word from her?”
“Nada,” Abe said.
Bub shrugged. “I imagine the council is keeping her extra busy.” He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say more, but then shot a quick glance at Abe and decided not to.
Keys jingled at the front door, announcing Kevin’s late arrival. He entered the condo with a black eye that had clearly not been delivered via pastry.
Abe let out a startled laugh. “You win.”
I put down my second slice of pizza and went to the freezer to grab a bag of frozen peas. “Hope this means you have good news for us,” I said, pulling out a chair at the table for him before pressing the bag to his face.
He sucked in a pained breath and took the bag from me before sitting down. “I’ve got nothing.”
“Then what the hell happened to your face?”
Kevin gave me a wounded look. “I ran into an old friend and they tried to sell me something I don’t buy anymore.”
My fists clenched involuntarily, fingernails biting into my palms. “Sonofabitch. Do we need to pay someone a visit?” I asked, my mind jumping between going to Meng for a feel-good tea and tracking down the hellfire dealer for some payback.
Kevin shook his head, groaning when the bag of peas shifted. “No need. You should see the other guy.” He gave me a weak smile, but then followed it up with a frown. “I didn’t make it to the store. Sorry.”
It seemed a little curious that it had taken him longer than the rest of us to make it back to the condo, and all he had to show for it was a shiner. I had the uneasy feeling that I was being lied to, and the thought that he might be using again pinched my heart with guilt.
I couldn’t handle him having a relapse right now. I could be dead by the end of the week. I needed him on his game and by my side. And I definitely didn’t have time to pencil in an intervention. Each excuse made me feel like an even worse mentor, so I let them ferment in my mouth unspoken.
I shrugged. “Bub and I can check it out later.”
“Later?” Bub pouted. “But our dinner plans.”
“After we take Saul down to check out the market, we can do a late dinner. Have a slice of pizza if you need something to tide you over.”
Bub’s sulking was becoming less comical and more forlorn, tainting my guilt with outrage. What was wrong with everyone? Didn’t they care that I was fighting for my life? I felt like I was doing a pretty good job keeping my panic in check, but damn, having to light a fire under everyone’s ass was starting to do a number on my self-worth.
Abe yawned and stretched his wings. “You need me to stick around?” he asked, his eyes wandering over to the clock on the kitchen wall.
“No.” I sighed. “Go get some sleep. We might need your help again tomorrow.”
Abe gave us a half-hearted wave before ducking out the front door. I was almost angry with him too, but he barely knew me, and he’d cut sleep to offer his help. Bub balked about having to visit a thrift store and reschedule dinner.
“I’m going to change.” I left the kitchen, heading back to my room with a building sense of urgency. I was going to find Tasha and force her to reveal the ghost market, even if I had to do it all by myself. Then everyone could go eat crow.
Chapter 15
“The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep.” —Robert Frost
It was dusk before I made it to the market with Saul. Bub had come along too, though rather reluctantly after he realized I was angry with him. I was too focused on my mission to bother with a heart-to-heart right now, but that didn’t mean my anxiety and hurt feelings weren’t winding me up like a jack-in-the-box. I was hoping a new lead would distract me from my misery soon.
“Is everything all right, love?” Bub asked when Saul paused to poke his nose under a table skirt.
“Besides my swiftly approaching demise? Yup. Super duper.” I stopped in front of one of the few open booths and held up a picture of Tasha for the vendor, a blue-skinned Djinn peddling knockoff wishing lamps. He shook his head slowly and then held out a glossy lamp to me. I waved him off and moved on down the street.
The market was still suffering from the soul scare, as evident by the numerous closed booths. Only four or five were open, though none of the vendors seemed to know anything more than what they’d already told the guard a week ago.
Saul whimpered at my ankles. He’d been snuffling his way up and down Market Street, booth to booth, curb to curb, for over an hour now, and we’d found absolutely nothing. I was having a hard time accepting it.
“Love,” Bub said, taking my elbow and turning me to face him. “You need to relax. Even if the council doesn’t vote in your favor, I won’t let anything happen to you.” He ran his hands up and down my arms.
“I can’t relax. People are counting on me. I need to find Tasha and Jai Ling and the other missing souls, and then, if I’m lucky, I can keep my head—because as much as you want to tell me everything will be okay, you don’t know that—” I gasped in a shuddering breath and lowered my voice, realizing that I was drawing unwelcome attention from bystanders. “You don’t know that. I’m not a child to be appeased with false promises.”
Bub’s face flushed and he swallowed hard. “I’m merely trying to be helpful. I hate seeing you so distressed.”
“You want to be helpful? Then help me find Tasha.”
His eyes narrowed as he found his resolve. “I can do that. For starters, I can assure you that we won’t be finding her here. It’s much too public, especially at this hour.”
I turned away from him and stormed off. Saul trotted along beside me, his nose still close to the ground. He was just as determined to find something tonight as I was.
“Where are you going?” Bub called after me.
“The grocery store on Westwood,” I shouted back. I was going to accomplish something tonight, even if it was just picking up a few groceries.
Bub widened his gait to catch up, leaning on his cane with a grimace once he had. Walking the whole five blocks down Morte Avenue sounded like a great way to blow off steam, and it would certainly force him to prove how much he actually wanted to help, but I didn’t think I could stomach any more guilt. Instead, I passed the dock entrance where two nephilim stood guard and entered the travel booth closest to the harbor.
Bub looked relieved as he joined me and propped himself against the glass wall to give his bum leg a rest. I slotted a coin in the booth dashboard, and we were promptly deposited on the opposite side of the island.
The sky seemed darker, as if the trip had taken an hour rather than a few seconds. It was likely due to the shady trees that crested the ridged coast. They towered behind the buildings lining the west side of the street, creating a hollow of darkness that prompted the businesses there to turn their exterior lights on long before those across the way did. The grocery store was one of them.
Westwood Supermarket was spelled out in electric yellow above the automatic doors. Half of the boxy letters were burned out, and the remaining ones buzzed and hummed as if they were ready to follow suit. Wide glass windows wrapped around the building, and the few that weren’t boarded up or sloppily painted with the weekly specials overlooked a sad produce section.
Bub shuddered beside me. “There are dumpsters better off.”
I sighed, wondering if we’d have enough time to swing by the grocery store near the park before they closed. The way this place
looked, I was willing to bet that the canned goods were even expired.
Saul bayed suddenly, his volume all the more jarring in the silence. Then he took off down the road, heading south toward the surrounding woods. I gave chase until he dipped behind the trees, hesitating as I tried to recall where the fey territory ended.
Bub stumbled against me, catching himself with his cane just in time. “What are we waiting for?”
“The fey—”
“Play house in the northern woods. We’re safe here.”
I took a few steps and stopped again, drawing a frustrated grunt from Bub.
“What now?” he whispered harshly.
“That’s the way to the abandoned resort.” I glanced back at him and our eyes met in the near dark, the gold flecks in his glowing softly. A mutual anxiety uncoiled between us, but Bub was quick to dismiss it. He grabbed my hand and pulled me into the woods behind him.
The ground was soft from the recent rains, and dewy leaves brushed my face as we followed the sound of Saul’s panting. He knew not to disturb prey when sneaking up on it. The bit of light slipping through the canopy caught on his shiny black fur, giving me a glimpse of him any time Bub sidestepped around a tree.
The ridge dissolved into a rocky beach, and the sound of waves rushing to shore filled my ears as we exited the forest. The sea was nearing high tide for the evening, the soulish water creeping up near the skeleton of a rusty beach umbrella. The three run-down buildings that had once been an extravagant and ill-conceived resort loomed along the edge of the woods. Saul waited in the shadow of the first one, his nose to the ground and tail wagging.
Bub and I followed the tree line, trying to stay hidden while also avoiding the weedy undergrowth of the forest. My heart rattled furiously in my chest, and I felt my hand grow clammy in Bub’s.
The guard was supposed to be patrolling this area more diligently after the rebel bust last year and the boat sighting between the shore and the synthetic defense reef. This was their job. I didn’t want to be here—especially not with Bub.
We reached Saul, and Bub leaned over to touch the earth where my hound’s muzzle pointed. His fingers came away crusty and yellow.
“Brimstone powder,” he said, looking up at me.
I dug a hunting knife out of the sheath built into the side of my boot and looked up the length of the building. “Lotta stairs. Maybe you should stay here while I check it out.”
I’d been so hard-pressed to see proof that he cared, but now I couldn’t bear the thought of being here with him again, as if it were the location that had caused him to betray me before and not something of his own doing.
Bub shook his head stiffly. “Not a chance.” He flicked his thumb along the handle of his cane and a series of dark spikes sprouted along the base near the ground. “I know how to handle myself just fine, love. Besides—” He lifted his index finger close to my face so I could see the glossy, green-eyed fly perched on his nail. “Stairs have never been an issue.”
I swallowed and nodded. Then I patted my hand against my thigh, signaling Saul to resume the hunt.
We followed him to the backside of the building where several rusty dumpsters huddled around the rear entrance. It was less visible than the front and more appealing to squatters and delinquents. Either the doors hadn’t been sealed up last fall, or they’d been breached again recently. One was jarred open, and the smell of mold rolled out to greet us.
Saul slipped inside first, and Bub and I followed through the narrow gap, mindful of the old hinges that were sure to creak if we forced them. The fading daylight did little to light our path, but luckily we didn’t have to worry about playing truth or dare with the rotting stairs leading up to the next floor.
Saul led us through the foyer and to a pair of swinging doors off an area that looked like it might have been for fine dining at one time. A few round tables lay on their sides, propped together against a wall and covered with a stained tablecloth, as if a hobo had built himself a little shelter in case the ceiling collapsed. Part of it already had, and fresh water damage was eating away at the rest.
Bub edged past me and peeked through one of the oval windows of the swinging doors. He jerked away suddenly and waved his hand at me, directing me to press myself against the wall beside him.
“Tasha?” I whispered.
Bub shook his head. “Demon.”
My shoulders sagged, and my breath rushed out with less care. All this buildup, all this tension and heartache, for some random demon.
“He could still know something useful,” Bub hissed under his breath, as if I was ruining a perfectly good heist.
“Fine.” I stepped around him and pushed the doors open, ditching stealth and opting for a surprise party explosion of noise. One of the swinging doors slammed into a cart, sending it hurdling into a stainless steel counter and adding a nice touch to my approach. Bub clicked his tongue and sighed before following me into the kitchen.
The demon in question cowered near a walk-in freezer. He balled himself into a corner on the floor, holding his arms up over his head as he pleaded for mercy. Saul growled low in his throat, and the poor guy pissed himself, making me feel more than a little depraved.
“Manto,” I ordered Saul, freezing him in place so that the demon could pull himself together.
He was a small creature, with thin, webbed wings that shuddered in time with each heaving breath he took. The way he shrank away from confrontation made me think there was no way he was or ever had been associated with the rebels. His clothes were ratty and stained, and it was hard not to feel sorry for him, until I caught sight of his disfigured hand.
“Tack!” I tangled both hands in the front of his shirt and pulled him upright.
“I didn’t do it,” he wailed, holding his fingerless hand in front of his face.
Bub’s eyebrows shot up. “You know this fellow?”
“Where’s Tasha?” I demanded, ignoring Bub’s question. “Where the hell is Tasha?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know.” He choked out a strangled sob and shook his head from side to side, his wings flapping against the wall as if he were a bug trying to escape.
Saul growled again, and Tack squealed in my grasp, his wings pulling him off the floor a few inches. I held firm to the front of his shirt and pulled him back down, pinning him in place against the wall.
“I will rip those wings off and let my hound use them as chew toys if you don’t tell me where she is.”
“I don’t know. I don’t know,” he began chanting again.
“Okay then.” I placed a hand on each of his shoulders and twisted him around, slamming his face against the wall.
“Wait! Wait. Sometimes we meet up at the Phantom Café. She might be there later.” His breath rushed out desperately.
“Why do you meet her there? Are you helping plan an attack on the city?” Bub asked.
“No, no. She buys me coffee and a bagel. Makes sure I’m doing all right.” His voice broke and he squeezed his eyes shut. “We aren’t hurting anyone. She doesn’t even deal with the rebels anymore."
“Why is she still in the city? What is she planning?” I shouted, pressing him harder against the wall. Adrenaline coursed through my body with a vengeance, and I couldn’t contain my wrath. Tack cried out in pain.
“Lana.” Bub placed a hand on my arm, urging me to release the demon before I crushed the poor guy like a cockroach. “We have a solid lead. Let’s call the guard in to collect him.”
I held on a second longer, contemplating whether or not we might be able to get more information. My body trembled, and I finally let go, dropping Tack to the floor again. I took a deep breath and backed away, letting Bub take over while I dialed Abe.
He answered on the third ring, his words groggy and edged with frustration. “The world had better be ending.”
“Not on my watch.”
“Captain Harvey?” He cleared his throat and I heard the squeak of a cheap mattress in the backgroun
d. “Has there been a new development?”
“I need you to come by the abandoned resort and pick up a demon we’re detaining. Bub and I would bring him in ourselves, but I’m afraid our new lead will be expiring soon.” I closed my eyes and squeezed the bridge of my nose as a headache wrapped itself around my temples.
“Be there in five,” Abe said, hanging up without another word.
I scuffed the toe of my boot along the grimy linoleum and glanced back at Bub. His hand rested on the demon’s back. He was talking to him in a hushed voice, saying soothing things, promising no harm would come to him if he cooperated. Tack still quivered under my gaze, but his blubbering subsided.
“You’re one of them that destroyed my apartment. One of them that did this,” he accused, holding up his fingerless hand. “Aren’t you?” His fear boiled into anger.
I flinched when Bub’s astonished eyes sought me out. He didn’t say anything, but I could imagine the conversation we’d be having later.
“We were looking for Tasha and her rebel companions then too,” I said, as if that explained everything. My cheeks warmed, shame spoiling my feeble victory. “If you’d answered Jenni’s questions the first time, she would have let you keep your fingers, but if I remember correctly, you were more interested in filling your veins with hellfire. I’m surprised you made it out alive.”
“No thanks to you.” Tack pulled his hand back in against his chest. His face crumpled with regret. “Tasha set me up at the Demon Suffrage Shelter. They had healers and rehab programs.”
“I thought she left you for one of the rebels.” I raised an eyebrow.
“She did,” he snapped. “But it didn’t last. She felt bad about putting me in the middle of all her drama. That’s why she checks up on me every now and then.”
“Why not stay at the shelter?” Bub asked.
Ghost Market (Lana Harvey, Reapers Inc. Book 6) Page 11