Desolate Mantle

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Desolate Mantle Page 39

by L. K. Hill


  “If that’s the case,” Shaun said, “how did he end up where you were, deep in the Mire? Did he follow you in?”

  “Yeah,” Gabe chimed in. “And what was all that talk about layers and depth?”

  Kyra glanced between then, as though considering which question to answer first. “I think he must have followed us in. I don’t know why. Him being at the warehouse with the rest of the Mire makes sense to me. Happening upon us in a dark alley doesn’t. Maybe he saw me running and was curious. Like I told you, the last time he saw me bolt into a dark alley, I was chasing the killer. Maybe he thought something similar was happening. Or he’d already gotten an eyeful of the warehouse and wanted to see what I doing.”

  “Or maybe,” Shaun said quietly, “He wanted to help you. Make sure you were okay. Save you.”

  A chilly silence fell over the room. Kyra shrugged her shoulders uncomfortably. “He saw Gabe go in with me,” she murmured.

  “That’s hardly the point,” Shaun said.

  Kyra glanced up at him. Then at Gabe. Her cheeks reddened. She cleared her throat. “You’re question about depth? It’s Mire lingo. The busy streets, like M Street and S Street, are at zero depth. One alley in from them is one layer deep. Two alleys back is two layers deep and so on. Apparently the Prowlers’ territory is four layers deep and beyond.”

  “Who sets down these rules?” Gabe asked. “And why would the Scavengers follow them?”

  “The mob does, I’m sure,” Shaun said. “They’re the ones that truly control the city. You talked about hierarchies,” he addressed Kyra, “and there’s really no better way to put it. The hierarchies in the city run from the highest mob boss, whom I believe you met the other night, down to the lowliest user.”

  Kyra nodded. “Yeah, I’ve been thinking a lot about it too. The mob lets the Prowlers exist and conduct their activities, but not out in the open. They must be done under cover of darkness. The deepest darkness of Mire. The Prowler—Scavenger who chased me the first time Jerome saved me? He’s allowed to kill me by the mob’s rules, but not where anyone can see. That’s why they asked me about this serial killer. He’s a problem for them, too. He’s killing prostitutes too close to the busy streets. It’s messing with business. Disrupting revenue streams. And I don’t believe someone as high up as Dellaire was sent to watch me. I think they lied because they don’t want me knowing how big a problem this killer is for them. I think Jerome is as astute as they come. He was on the prowl for the killer, and noticed me. Even then, I doubt he or the mob would have approached. He saw me chasing the killer the night Janny died. That’s when they decided to bring me in.”

  Shaun nodded. “Makes sense. But Kyra, that means you can expect more visits from the mob. Or Dellaire at the least. They’ll use you however they can. Maybe he decided to keep you alive tonight because he believes you can lead him to the killer.”

  Kyra frowned. “I can’t. I don’t know anything about the guy. I’ve only seen him from a distance twice—”

  “Yes,” Shaun interrupted. “And you’re the only one who has.”

  Kyra folded in on herself, leaning back into the pillows and hunching her shoulders. She rubbed her forehead briefly and looked away.

  A soft buzzing came from the pocket of Shaun’s jacket. He glanced down, then back between the two of them. “Do either of you have anything else to add to your accounts?”

  Kyra and Gabe both shook their heads.

  “Then we’re done for now.” Shaun turned off the tape recorder and pulled the phone from his pocket. A frown slid onto his face as he read the screen. “Excuse me. I should take this.”

  He stood and walked from the room, leaving Kyra and Gabe alone in the silence.

  “Are you okay?” Gabe asked quietly.

  Kyra turned her weary eyes on him. “No, but I will be. I just…need some sleep.”

  Feeling heavy, Gabe moved from his seat to Shaun’s, which sat closer to Kyra. He took her hand in both of his, one grasping hers from below, the other covering from above. “Kyra,” he whispered, knowing this wouldn’t end well. “Please stop this.”

  Her gaze snapped up to his, utter shock written there, and snatched her hand away.

  “You’re going to end up dead, Kyra.”

  “Why are you saying this?” Anger seethed from her. “We’ve been over this, Gabe. I know the risks.”

  “This isn’t just walking among dangerous people anymore. We’re talking killers, the mob, whoever this psycho-douche was who leaned over and breathed on you.”

  Kyra folded her arms over her breasts and glared furiously at the opposite wall. “You don’t have to remind me who to watch out for, Gabe.”

  “You can’t compete with all of that, Kyra. If the mob knows exactly who you are, others do too. You thought you were under the radar, blending in. And with most Mirelings, you are. But you obviously aren’t the only smart, aware person in the Mire, and all the others like you, they see you.”

  “Stop!” Kyra shuddered. She’d turned completely away from him, now. “I…I know, Gabe. And I still need to find my brother.” She took a deep breath and turned to him. “I saw him tonight. I can’t turn away from him now.”

  Anger flared in Gabe’s chest and his words came out harsh. “Why not? If your brother was there tonight—” she opened her mouth angrily and he put up a hand to stop her, “—and if you say you saw him, okay. I believe you. But if that’s the case, it means he ran away from you tonight. Is it really worth it to chase a phantom who doesn’t want to be found?”

  Her jaw set stubbornly and she turned her body to face away from him again.

  “Look,” Gabe said. “I get it, Kyra. He disappeared on you. And it haunts you. I of all people understand that. But what if, in looking for him, you disappear too? At least you can be relatively sure he’s alive—”

  “He is alive! I saw him!”

  “—but if you disappear, it will be because you’re actually dead. What will your parents do if you vanish on them too? They don’t even know what you’re really doing here. You’ll just be gone, and it’ll fall to me to tell them what you were doing, and that I don’t know what the hell happened to you!” He finished in a shout.

  “Argh!” Kyra threw back the afghan and got out of bed. Beneath it, she wore jeans under her hospital gown. Something the nurses would frown on. The real reason for the afghan, then. She paced the length of the room once before rounding on him, eyes blazing. “You are such a hypocrite!”

  Gabe, still sitting on the edge of Shaun’s chair, slowly straightened his legs. “Excuse me?”

  Kyra swallowed, visibly trying to get a hold of herself. “Tyke came to see me earlier. To see how I was. He told me about the man who moved in across the street from you. That he either is your brother’s killer or knows who he is.”

  “Tyke needs to keep his trap shut,” Gabe muttered.

  “It’s the first real break in your brother’s case in years, Gabe. But you’re gonna leave it alone, right? Go back to normal life? Pretend it’s nothing?” Her voice took on a note of pleading. “Because it might upset your parents?”

  Gabe dropped his gaze, shaking his head. “That’s different. Following a lead in my brother’s case doesn’t put my life in jeopardy.”

  “Yeah,” her voice became hard again. “You know why? Because your brother is already dead.”

  Gabe flinched as though struck. She might as well have stabbed him.

  Her face softened at his reaction. “I’m sorry, but it’s true. Whether it’s dangerous or not doesn’t matter to me. Maybe it should be a factor. It’s not. Gabe,” she moved around the bed to stand directly in front of him.

  He unconsciously turned to face her, keeping his eyes on the floor. When she stood directly in front of him—he could see the bandage from her still-hurt foot sticking out from under her jeans—she raised his chin with her finger, forcing him to look her in the eye.

  “Gabe, what if you knew your brother was alive, but lost in a terrible, d
angerous place? And you knew looking for him meant you’d probably be hurt. Maybe killed. That maybe you’d disappear and never be seen again. But you knew he was there. You’d seen him.” She broke the gaze for a moment to look at the floor, and he blinked.

  He breathed deeply, glad she’d looked away, if only for a moment. He found it difficult to look away when she gazed at him so intently.

  She raised her face to his, eyes watery. “Could you really walk away from that?”

  He gazed down into her face. Her blue eyes. The real ones. Not the bright, electric blue of her Supra contacts, but the deep, dark blue of an overcast sky. He turned his head, tearing his eyes away. He tamped down the ache in his chest. Shoved it down deep and jumped up and down on it. The only thing left was anger. He kept his voice tightly controlled.

  “No. But that doesn’t change facts here, Kyra. You can’t just ignore the danger you’re in.”

  She threw up her hands. “I don’t plan to ignore it. I’ll face it. Deal with it. Take it on. I know what I’m doing.”

  “Really?” He fought to keep his voice from rising. “Because twice now a mobster saved you from a homicidal, hissing killer. Doesn’t sound like you have everything under control.”

  She glared at him. “Give me a little credit, Gabe. I’ve survived this far, haven’t I. You need to start trusting that I can handle myself.”

  “And you need to face reality, Kyra!”

  She flinched and he checked himself. Shouting wouldn’t help things here.

  “You think you have this under control, but you almost died tonight. You think no one in the Mire notices your movements, but they do. The ones who notice are dangerous. You think it will be as simple as locating your brother and spiriting him away. That he’s a victim who needs saving.”

  “He is.”

  “He’s joined a violent, homicidal gang, Kyra,” he shouted again. “You need to face the possibility that he’s not the good guy anymore.”

  “I keep telling you, he wouldn’t!” she yelled.

  “Most people wouldn’t,” he shot back. “Everyone says that about their loved ones. Most of the time it’s true. But I’ve seen the most decent people you can imagine turn into homicidal lunatics when they become addicts.”

  Kyra glared at him with an iron jawline. Her hands trembled and tears pooled in her eyes, threatening to spill over her lower lids.

  Guilt replaced anger and Gabe breathed in deeply. He reached out to put a hand on her shoulder, but the way her eyes pierced him…. He dropped his arm. “You have to get over this delusion you have that Manny is still a good guy. At least consider the possibility that he’s not the boy you grew up with anymore. If you don’t…”

  Her tears jumped their lids and scurried down her cheeks. She turned away from him, wiping her cheeks and eyes, and crossed the room to look out the window.

  “I know what I’m facing here, Gabe. I get it. You think the idea of just disappearing into the darkness one day doesn’t terrify me? The thought that I could float away like fog and no one would be the wiser, like so many of the people I surround myself with. You think I don’t understand the reality, Gabe, but I’ve lived among these people for months now. The homeless, the junkies, the working girls. They stand on the street corner one minute and disappear the next. Did they simply move on to the next place or did something happen to them? Will someone spot them up the street, or will no one spot them again. They’ve made themselves into transparent, disposable people.”

  She twisted at the waist to look over her shoulder at him, her red-rimmed eyes full of fire. “And I have to appear to be like them in order to walk among them. But I am not like them.” She turned fully to face him. “I know what it all means, Gabe. I understand the reality better than anyone who’s never lived in the Mire could. And I still choose this.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I have to find my brother.”

  Gabe dropped his head, closing his eyes.

  “And tonight I came closer than ever before. I can’t stop now. I won’t. Why can’t you just accept that?”

  Gabe opened his eyes. Kyra stood, framed by the window, desperation and determination warring on her face. He stalked toward her, put his hands on either side of his neck and slide them up over her ears, fingers in her hair, and kissed her.

  She didn’t protest. Putting her hands over his and letting her head tilt back, she kissed him, too. He wasn’t rough—her lips felt soft under his—but he poured everything he felt into the kiss, holding her face between his hands and feeling her tears on his cheeks.

  When his lips left hers, they both breathed deeply. He slid his hands back down her neck, over her shoulders and down her back, then wrapped his arms fully around her, pressing his face into her shoulder.

  He turned his head to press his lips against her ear. When he spoke, it came out almost a sob. “Because I don’t want you to disappear.”

  He let go of her, turned, and trudged out of the room, leaving her staring after him, and crying.

  Chapter 28

  Hours later, Kyra stared out the window of the cab. She never took taxis, but even she knew she was in no condition to walk back to her hotel.

  The doctors wanted her to stay at least overnight. An hour after Gabe left, she’d signed the AMA forms and shed her hospital gown, along with the last shred of hope she had for her future.

  Gabe was right. About all of it. It didn’t change her mind about finding Manny, but it did force her to reconsider a lot of things. Perhaps Manny had become a monster.

  She shuddered. She simply couldn’t wrap her head around the idea of him becoming the kind of monster that could do the things to other human beings she’d seen going on in that warehouse. But she’d been blinding herself to the reality of the situation. Things were bound to turn out stickier than she could ever plan for. The warehouse tonight was proof of that.

  Still, she needed to know where Manny was, no matter what condition he might be in. She would go back to her room and sleep for as long as she could get away with. Tomorrow night she would report to Josie, and her search for her brother would continue.

  “There you are, Miss.” The small, Mediterranean cab driver had a kind face. She paid him and walked through the front door of her hotel room, doing her best not to limp.

  The hotel’s lobby smelled new and fresh, like new furniture and industrial paint. Kyra felt mildly nauseous. As soon as she entered, three people behind the front desk honed in on her and waved her over. Frowning, Kyra crossed the lobby to them. She sometimes came down her to check her messages when she hadn’t made it back to her room in several days, but the hotel employees had never signaled her.

  “Yes?”

  “Just a minute,” the girl behind the counter said. “Let me get my manager.”

  She disappeared before Kyra could stop her. Instead, she turned to a tall, stocky man who also stood behind the desk. “What’s going on?”

  “My manager would like to handle it,” he answered, giving her a sympathetic look.

  Kyra’s worry deepened. What on earth could be happening? “Should I be worried?”

  “We hoped you could tell us,” said a blond, athletic man, emerging from the back office. His name badge read Dalton Lee, General Manager.

  “How do you mean?” Kyra asked.

  The manager came around the desk and took Kyra’s arm, leading her to a pair of over-stuffed chairs. “Obviously you didn’t sleep in your room last night, Ms. Richardson. When did you last stay in your room?”

  Kyra sat beside him. The name he used threw her. “The night before last,” Kyra said warily.

  Lee opened his mouth, then shut it again, as though unsure how to proceed. “Understand, Ms. Richardson. You don’t have to give me any personal information unless you choose to. Your privacy is your own to keep. But would you mind telling me where you were last night?”

  “I spent most of the night at the hospital.”

  Lee’s eyes widened in alarm. “Are you okay?” He swept h
is eyes over her, taking in the bruises and bandages for the first time.

  “I’m fine,” Kyra said quickly. Obviously she couldn’t explain. The thought flashed in her head to make up a lie about visiting a family member there, but perhaps ambiguity would be her friend here. “Just a…long night.”

  “Oh,” Lee looked relieved. “I see.”

  Kyra sighed, exasperation getting the better of her. She just wanted to go to her room and sleep for twelve hours. “Forgive me, Mr. Lee. What is this all about?”

  Lee pressed his lips together for another moment, before nodding, as though he’d made a decision. Someone vandalized the door of your hotel room last night, I’m afraid.”

  Kyra stared at the man. “The door of my hotel room? Not the room itself?”

  “No, not as far as we can tell. It doesn’t look like they tried to get in. Rather, they used spray paint on the outside of the door. Please understand, Ms. Richardson. We didn’t know where you were. We didn’t know what happened. We thought the person staying in the room could be under attack. Or on the other hand, maybe a teenager simply chose a random door. We had to be certain. For legal purposes, as well as to make sure you were safe.”

  Kyra nodded. “So you entered my room, then?” She wracked her brain trying to remember if she’d left anything sensitive out. She didn’t think she had. She was particular about putting everything away in her luggage before leaving the room, and those had locks on them.

  “Yes,” Lee was saying. “Please don’t worry about your things. We haven’t gone through them. We can’t do that without an okay from the police, and generally they would be the ones doing it anyway. And it takes more than a few hours for a warrant like that. We will need you to walk through and let us know if anything is missing or out of place. Do you know of anyone who would have targeted you?”

 

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