Tack snorted. “Have you seen it lately? After the attack on the city last fall, anyone who shows up at the shelter is treated like a rebel refugee. They ask too many questions, and my visa is expired.”
“Why not go home then?” I asked, making a face at Bub when he glared at me.
“He wouldn’t last one night in any of the hells. Not in his condition.”
A swoosh of wings echoed through the foyer, followed by a screech of metal as the back door was forced open.
“Hello?” Abe called out.
“In here.” I put a hand on Tack’s shoulder and led him out through the swinging kitchen doors. Bub was right behind us, the end of his cane making a ripping noise as it peeled away from the sticky floor.
“Where should I take him?” Abe asked as he bound Tack’s hands beneath his twitchy bat wings.
“The Nephilim Guard station seems as good a place as any. Then call Jenni—”
Tack jerked around to look at me over his shoulder. “The reaper who maimed me? Are you serious?”
I silenced him with a glare. “Tell her he needs to be fed, but not to question him until I get there.”
Abe nodded and led Tack away. I waited until I heard him take flight outside, his wings plenty strong enough to support the emaciated demon. Then I turned to face Bub.
His melancholy eyes searched mine. “The only thing that poor boy is guilty of is loving a bad apple.” He tilted his head to one side. “Am I guilty of that too?”
I blew out an offended breath. “I didn’t cut his fingers off. That was Jenni. If he’d given her the answers we needed sooner, it wouldn’t have come to that.”
“Right,” he said softly. “Do you suppose it would have come to that if he’d been an angel? Or a nephilim? What about a reaper?”
I took a step toward Bub and lowered my voice. “I’ll do much worse when I find Tasha.”
I thought of Craig Hogan and the way my hand had melted through his chest. Yeah, I didn’t have a problem smiting my own kind when they deserved it. It might haunt me later, but my survival instincts didn’t care much about consequences.
Bub clicked his tongue and walked past me. “Vendettas don’t suit you, love.”
Chapter 16
“I'm tired of fighting. I've always known that I can't be an action star all my life.” —Jackie Chan
A long row of attached, three-story buildings filled the entire southern stretch of Eternity Avenue between Destiny Avenue and Memorial Drive. When the buildings were brand new, in the late eighteen hundreds, the gray block had been seamless, making the attached buildings look like they were one, maybe a very large, majestic library.
After a few decades, the businesses that had taken up shop there began updating and customizing. A candy-striped awning here. A new door there. Maybe some obnoxiously bright paint to stand out from the neighbors. By the end of the nineteenth century, every building had acquired a new look, each strikingly different, like carnival booths crammed together down a midway. The businesses they housed were just as varied, but the loft apartments on the second and third floors of most of the buildings still maintained a certain uniformity that I was pretty sure hadn’t been updated since the eighteen hundreds.
Discreet alcoves were cut into the stone work where one building met the next. Their doors opened into narrow foyers featuring antique mailboxes and rusty, ominous heating grates that groaned and rattled when the furnaces kicked on. Rickety wooden stairs led up to the second and third floors, connected by landings with massive, arched windows that had outlived their weathered bench sills.
It was on one such bench that Bub and I staked out the Phantom Café, spying it through the dusty window while we avoided looking at each other or talking. Saul lay against the wall beneath us, his soft snores echoing through the stairwell. I pulled my legs up, letting my boots rest on the span of bench between Bub and I, and folded my arms across my knees. It was late, much too late for Bub’s romantic dinner plans. I had the feeling neither of us was in the mood anyway.
The café didn’t see much traffic on Monday nights, but my eyes never strayed far from the front door. Sammy the blind cherub was working behind the counter, and through the wraparound walls of glass, I counted exactly three customers. A dozen more had come and gone, taking their coffees and pastries to go.
Soft mist began to fall, fogging the window and the street below. Zibel was at it again. I rubbed the sleeve of my sweater across the glass and squinted at the sidewalk below.
Bub glanced at his watch. “How much longer do you suppose we’ll be here?”
“You’re free to leave whenever you want.”
“That’s not what I meant.” He sighed and hefted a leg up on the bench, resting his booted foot between mine. “When are you going to tell me what’s really bothering you?”
I pressed my lips together and gave him a sideways glance. “You mean the death threat hanging over my head isn’t enough?”
“Why are you letting this council business get to you? You didn’t give a flip about what they thought last fall when you put your neck on their chopping block to save my arse.”
“That was different.” I leaned my forehead against the window, letting the cool glass soothe my disappointment. “I had no choice.”
Bub’s hand rubbed up the side of my calf. His fingers found mine and they laced together. “You had a choice, and you have one now.”
I swallowed and turned my gaze back to the café. “You had a choice too.”
Bub’s grip tightened. “I did, and I made the wrong call. I’m done jumping through the council’s hoops, love.”
“You really think that’s an option for me?”
“I’m not telling you to give up,” he said gently. “Just don’t let them lead you around by your fear. If you don’t complete this mission, we’ll leave the city. In my time with the rebels, I learned quite a lot about the hidden nooks and crannies of Eternity.”
I looked away from the window again. “We’d have to give up the new manor.”
“It’s just a house. It means nothing without you.” He pulled my hand to his mouth and brushed his lips against my knuckles.
My heart fluttered, and I felt tears sting my eyes. Maybe he’d made the wrong call going undercover with the rebels, but I hadn’t made a wrong call saving him without Grim or the council’s approval. I’d do it all again, and they knew it. That’s why they were punishing me now.
Something unclenched in my chest, and I realized I’d been reading Bub all wrong. He did care—enough that the council’s verdict wouldn’t change where he saw us in the future. Together. Whether that be amongst the mortals or in a far-reaching corner of Eternity. That’s why he wasn’t as worked up over this whole ordeal the way I was.
Bub was right. I was letting the council get to me. I had my allies, but there were too many uncertain variables. Sure, I wanted to get Tasha back for her hijinks over Christmas, and I most definitely wanted to save Jai Ling. Being able to show my face in the city and go about life as usual sounded nice too. But a fear of dying still had top billing on my motivation list. It didn’t render a very courageous or optimistic outlook.
“Hello there,” Bub said, leaning closer to the window.
A slender figure in full black and stilettoed boots hurried down the sidewalk. Her face was hidden under the hood of her sweatshirt, but I caught a glimpse as she twisted her head about, making a quick assessment of her surroundings, and then pushed through the café’s front door.
“That’s her,” I whispered, jumping to my feet. Saul snorted and yawned as he lifted his head. He stood and shook out his coat before extending his front paws and leaning back into his haunches for a good stretch.
I stood too and paced back and forth across the landing.
Bub arched a brow. “Shouldn’t we go get her now?”
I shook my head. “We’re going to follow her, see if she leads us to anyone else who might know something about the ghost market. That way we have s
omething more to work with if she decides not to talk.”
Bub smirked. “You don’t think she’ll spill her guts if you have Jenni chop chop?” He brought one hand down in a slicing motion over his opposite fingers.
I shrugged. “Maybe. But she’s a little tougher nut to crack than her ex. Still, I’m not letting her get away this time.”
“In that case, we better move.” He nodded down at the sidewalk as Tasha left the café.
“Come on.” I took off down the stairs, leaving him and Saul to trail after me. A swarm of flies buzzed past my cheek, and Bub materialized in the lobby half a floor ahead of me. He lifted a closed fist when I reached him, as if I’d won a prize for taking second place—Saul was still plodding down the stairs behind me.
“We don’t have time for games,” I said, tapping his closed hand anyway. His fingers uncurled theatrically, releasing a tiny fly.
“There’s always time for games.” He grinned and cracked open the lobby door, letting the fly slip away to begin scouting for us.
“That won’t work for long. It’s going to rain.”
“We’ll catch up in time.” Bub offered me his arm, and we walked outside together, following Tasha’s trail at a leisurely pace. Saul nosed the ground at our feet. I hoped he could pick up her scent before Bub’s fly-cam called it quits.
Thunder grumbled in the distance, but every time I tried to quicken our stride, Bub would pause to window shop. He’d point out a jewelry display, a concert flyer, a blooming tree growing up out of a cutout in the sidewalk. When he stopped to buy a bag of popcorn from a street vendor, I’d had my fill.
“Are you trying to sabotage my mission,” I hissed under my breath as we neared the travel booth on the corner of Destiny Avenue.
“She’s already two blocks ahead.” Bub wiped a dribble of butter off his bottom lip with his thumb and licked it clean. “I thought she might be going back to the resort, but she hasn’t taken to the woods yet. Perhaps she’s heading to the grocery store on Westwood? That was on her map, was it not?”
A drop of rain hit my cheek and I gasped. “We’re going to lose her.”
Bub tossed another piece of popcorn in his mouth and grinned. His cane was casually looped over one arm, but he removed it to hook around my arm as I took an angry step away from him.
“We’ll use the travel booths and beat her there,” he said, pulling me in line with him.
The nephilim ahead of us tucked his wings in tighter against his back, eyeing Saul as he sniffed his sandaled feet. He entered the booth quickly when his turn came, giving us a dirty look as he dropped a coin in place.
Bub grimaced. “It seems that stealth and notoriety don’t play well together. Your little friend would have made us for sure if we’d bloodhounded our way through the city.”
Saul snorted in offense, and I reached down to scritch him behind an ear. “It’s not you, it’s us.”
When we popped out on the far side of the island, the sky looked fit to drench the city. Fat drops of water pelted the travel booth glass, and the florescent light overhead flickered like a beacon.
“Ah, yes, so much better. She’ll definitely not see us coming now.” I gave Bub a cheerless smile as he polished off his popcorn, crumpling the bag and shoving it in his pocket. Then he pulled me out of the booth and across the street, bypassing the automatic doors of the grocery store and heading straight into the western woods.
They were too dark for my taste, the only light coming from a yellow bulb set in a rusty, caged fixture at the store’s rear. It barely lit the exit and dumpster it was intended for.
As we moved deeper into the woods, my skin crawled, every little hair standing up on end when a cricket chirped somewhere nearby. My breath hurt in my lungs, less from our roaming and more out of panic. Bub was sure the fey gathered only in the north, but secluded bits of wilderness just seemed too tempting. I thought I heard voices, but when I hushed Bub to listen closer, there were only the crickets, occasionally drowned out by a roll of thunder.
The soft earth sucked at my boots, and I cringed when a thorny sapling scraped along my thigh, tearing at my jeans. I couldn’t make out Saul’s black fur in the darkness, but I heard his panting breath as he ventured ahead.
Bub was having an easier time navigating than me too. His cane was looped over his arm again to save it from the muck, and he used the abundant tree trunks to pull himself through the thicker patches of shrubs and over exposed tree roots.
Once we were well out of sight, Bub stopped and pushed my back against a thick tree. His hips rubbed against mine as he trapped me there, planting a wet kiss on my mouth and then another on my neck. “She’s almost here,” he whispered breathlessly.
I twisted around to peer through the trees, focusing on the point where Westwood met Eternity Avenue. The streetlights had come on, but many of the businesses were closed by now, their darkened storefronts surrendering to the shadows.
A streak of lightning shot overhead like a comet, lighting up the clouds and reflecting off the damp streets. And then rain fell from the sky as if it were being poured from a giant bucket. My hair unfurled and clung to my face, and my clothes soaked through in seconds. Then just as suddenly, it was over.
A break in the thunder left a silence so thick I could hear my own pulse—and the click-click-click of stilettos swiftly approaching.
Tasha looked perfectly dry, as if she’d taken shelter just in time. She passed the grocery store entrance on the same side we had and headed around to the back of the building, stopping beside the dumpster. She pulled her hood back, and the yellow security light spilled across her face like jaundice.
From the cover of the trees, I was finally able to take a good look at her. A lot had changed since Christmas. Tasha’s Mohawk had grown out, though it was still longer on top and mussed in such a way that suggested she cared more about staying off the radar than keeping up with her demon rebel makeover. Two tiny scars were visible where I knew she had dimples when she smiled. Apparently she had decided the piercings drew too much attention, though she’d kept the row of studs in her left ear.
An owl hooted and Bub and I ducked behind our tree as Tasha turned to inspect the woods. We waited to look again until we heard the lid of the dumpster creak open.
Tasha stretched her arms and tugged her fingerless gloves down before taking hold of the dumpster’s lip and heaving it closer to the back steps. She climbed up the steps and leaned over to rummage around the garbage without having to actually dumpster dive. A pair of questionable apples went in the wide pocket of her hoodie, followed by a dented box of snack cakes.
Bub snorted softly in my ear. “Bon appétit.”
I elbowed him as Tasha stole another glance into the woods, and we hid behind the tree again. When we looked next, she was gone, the dumpster left open and the smell of rot filling the humid air.
“Shit.” I tromped through the woods toward the grocery store, hoping to catch a glimpse of where she’d gone.
Bub was a few steps behind me when I came into the clearing. I glanced out at the street, scanning the shadows and listening for the clicking of Tasha’s heels.
I didn’t think to look behind the dumpster. Not until I smelled brimstone and felt the barrel of a gun press against the back of my skull.
Chapter 17
“Natural selection, as it has operated in human history, favors not only the clever but the murderous.” —Barbara Ehrenreich
Tasha smirked. “You would have made a lousy rebel, you know that?”
“Well, there goes my weekend plans.” I lifted my hands slowly and turned around to face her—or the barrel of her gun anyway. “Shoot anyone with that lately?” I asked, thinking of the guard still laid up at Meng’s.
Tasha’s scarred dimples flattened as her smile faded. “Only idiots like you who can’t mind their own business.”
“Yeah, who do they think they are, interfering with your thieving?” I leaned back as her gun drew closer to my face.
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“I’m a little short on options, you may have noticed,” she said bitterly, nodding her head back at the dumpster.
“And whose fault is that?”
Tasha’s eyes narrowed and I bit my tongue, remembering what end of the pistol I was on.
“Why are you following me?” she snapped. “Isn’t patrolling the city the Nephilim Guard’s job?”
“You mentioned the ghost market last winter when you tried to botch my harvest, remember?”
“So?”
“So I’d like know where it is.”
Tasha rolled her eyes. “Trust me, precious. You don’t want to get mixed up in all that.”
“Tell me where I can find it, and I’ll forget I saw you.”
She cocked her head to one side and laughed. “Or I could shoot you in the head, and then you’d definitely forget you saw me.”
A swarm of flies pelted Tasha’s face then, buzzing in her ears and eyes. The brimstone pistol fell from her hand and she covered her head, shrieking as she hunched over. Saul leapt from the dark cover of the woods and pounced on her back, sending her the rest of the way to the ground just as Bub appeared.
“Well, that was the wrong thing to say.” Bub snatched up Tasha’s gun with two fingers and held it up for inspection. “You won’t be needing this any longer,” he said, tucking it in one of the deep pockets of his coat.
Tasha’s squealing curdled into a dry heave that sounded like she was having an asthma attack. Saul’s weight against her back probably didn’t help, but I had a feeling it hurt less than a bullet in my head would have.
“Let’s try this again.” I squatted down and leaned over so she could see my face from her flattened vantage point. “The ghost market. Where is it?”
“How should I know?” She grunted and squirmed against the cracked concrete. “I haven’t dealt with them in months. They kept undercutting my commission, so it wasn’t worth my time anyway.”
“But you have dealt with them. Where?”
Ghost Market (Lana Harvey, Reapers Inc. Book 6) Page 12