by Kat Bellamy
Andrew was giving him that look again. The one Jason usually gave him. “Waterfire. You’ve been a Rhode Islander what, your whole life and you didn’t think of that?”
“Yeah, I have, and that’s why anything further than ten minutes is a fuckin’ roadtrip,” he shot back. “The one time I went as a kid, it was just a bunch of hippies floating around with masks in gondolas and selling glow stick necklaces. Not really my thing.” He hesitated. “How many people usually go, anyway?”
“Typically, a couple thousand. Tonight is a special lighting. Some ribbon-cutting bullshit’s going on with the mayor, so there’ll be anywhere between five- and six-thousand in attendance.”
“Shit,” Colt muttered. He watched as Andrew took out his phone and raised it to his ear. “Is now really the time for that?”
“I’m calling Jason,” Andrew snapped. “He’s with the mayor.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“He’s my assistant, not my lapdog. What am I supposed to do, keep him on a leash?”
The mental image was making Colt pissed enough that he felt in danger of shifting, so he pulled it back. “I’ve gotta find him.”
“He’s not answering. I’m coming with you,” Andrew said, stalking after Colt as he left the dressing room.
“Are you sure you can keep your donors waiting?”
Andrew shot him a dirty look. “We’ll take my car. I’ve seen that truck of yours and I’d rather arrive alive.”
“Hey, I traded up and she was a good truck,” Colt said, feeling the need to defend her even if she was a glorified hunk of rusted scrap metal. He followed Andrew out to his sports car.
“Oh, look. The douchemobile.”
“Get in.”
He did, even if he wasn’t happy about taking orders from the douche himself. Colt tried Jason’s number but the fact that Jason didn’t answer for him wasn’t all that surprising. Instead, he tried Roland’s.
“Take my phone and dial the Sheriff. We’ll need to alert security.”
“Already on it.”
Andrew looked over and scowled when he saw Colt waiting for the Sheriff to answer. “Of course he’s one of you.”
“Are you really that surprised?”
“Guess not. I always knew he was a bloodsucking monster, I just never imagined it was literal.”
“Again, the bloodsucking’s a vampire thing. We’re not vampires. We eat flesh and, okay, sometimes we drink blood, but it’s more like a booze thing than a vampire thing.”
“I’m so glad you made that distinction.”
“Where the fuck are you?” Roland growled as soon as he answered the phone. Always a charmer.
“I’m on my way to Waterfire. Please tell me you’ve got men down there.”
“Of course I do, but why?”
“I have Wilbur, but I don’t think Grayson’s planning on going after the party. I think he’s gonna hit Waterfire.”
“Son of a bitch. I don’t know why I didn’t think of that.”
“If you spent more time doing your job than covering up for your elite cronies, you might have,” Andrew taunted.
Colt glared at him. The Sheriff fell uncomfortably silent. “Why didn’t you tell me he was listening and why the fuck does he know?”
“I kind of did tell you. You can kill me later if you want, but you’ll have to get in line. We needed help, and if he’s right, it was worth it.”
“We’ll talk about this later,” Roland growled. “Get to Waterfire and find the mayor. He’ll know who to alert, but I pulled most of the Kin on the force to be at Wilbur’s rich prick party.”
“The mayor,” Colt said as another realization hit him. “Shit.”
“What?” Andrew and Roland demanded at once.
“If they’re aiming for exposure, I’m not sure Andrew was the target,” he said, his heart racing. “I think it might be the mayor.”
“What? Why would they attack another ghoul?” Roland asked.
“The fucking mayor, too?” Andrew cried, slamming his fist on the wheel. “Son of a bitch.”
Colt ignored him, sticking a finger in his ear so he could hear Roland. “This thing is televised. No better way to drag us out of the closet than to force a ghoul to shift on live TV, right?”
More silence. “I’ll keep trying the mayor. Get there as fast as you can,” Roland ordered. “You see Grayson or Miles, you take them the fuck out.”
“Got it,” Colt said, hanging up. “Can this death trap go any faster?”
Andrew pressed down on the gas even though they were already doing eighty. “This is utterly insane. You know that, right? I can’t even believe I’m doing any of this.”
“Yeah,” Colt snorted, looking out the window as the trees on the side of the highway flew by. “Join the club.”
Chapter 40
The moment Colt and Andrew made it to the edge of the crowd, Colt realized that the event was a hell of a lot bigger than the summer festival he’d grudgingly agreed to attend with Jason. The visitors wound all the way up the sidewalk that lined the edge of the river and wrapped around the park. Waterfire was about as Rhode Island as it got—a few times a year, everyone gathered to watch oddly-dressed, often-costumed performers in gondolas light the wood-filled braziers that stuck up from the Providence river like black bonfires. At its heart, it was an art installation, and Rhode Islanders loved their art. The more perplexing, the better.
“This is gonna be like finding Waldo,” Colt muttered, following Andrew through the enormous crowd.
“Yes, if Waldo was a cannibalistic monster with red eyes and fur hell-bent on getting half the city killed, it’s going to be exactly like that,” Andrew sneered, tapping out a rapid succession of messages on his phone.
“I only have red eyes and fur because I’m a lupine variant. Most ghouls just have black eyes and claws.” He paused. “And a second set of teeth that comes down over the first.”
“Lovely. Goddamn it, Jason, pick up your phone.”
Colt snorted. “Guess he doesn’t answer for you, either.”
Andrew rolled his eyes. “I take it that if they do attack the mayor, he’ll shift the same way you did?”
“Like I said, it’ll be different because he’s not an Alpha, but it’ll certainly give the crowd something to remember.”
“Please don’t tell me you use Alpha in the same sense that frat boys do.”
“It means I eat other ghouls, so…maybe? Never really did the whole homoerotic brotherhood thing.”
“And you managed to keep this from Jason how, exactly? I change my tie clip and he notices immediately.”
“We’re pretty much human until we hit twenty-five,” Colt admitted. “Then, all bets are off.”
“And you didn’t think it might be a good idea to tell him you weren’t human-human?”
“I’m adopted. I didn’t know until recently, so get off your high horse,” Colt snapped, scanning the crowd. No sign of Miles or Grayson, just a lot of stoned RIC students taking selfies with a mime.
Now Colt remembered why he’d never come back.
“So your parents aren’t ghouls?” Andrew asked curiously. Colt wasn’t sure he liked being the object of Andrew’s curiosity any more than he enjoyed being the subject of his criminal investigation. “How does that work?”
“Still figuring that out,” he admitted. “But I’m making it work.”
“Is that what happened between you and Jason? You didn’t think you could make it work?”
“What happened between me and Jason is none of your fucking business, actually.”
“I’m just trying to understand. It’s a lot to take in and you’re so…not what I imagined.”
“You had a lot of preformed notions about ghouls, huh?”
“That’s not what I meant. Based on our past encounters, I just assumed you were another overcompensating, knuckle-dragging douchebag,” he admitted. “Then, when it became obvious you were wrapped up in Stan Brown’s operation, I assumed you were
an overcompensating, knuckle-dragging murderer.”
“Fair enough. And now?”
Andrew said nothing for a few seconds. He finally came to a stop and pressed the phone to his ear. Colt heard it ringing. “In a strange way, knowing why you just so happen to show up in the worst places, you seem more human now that I know you’re a monster. Jason,” he said suddenly, turning into his phone. “Where are you?”
Colt strained to listen but he couldn’t hear Jason’s words through the crowd. Evidently, Andrew was having the same issue. He covered his other ear to listen. “What? You’re breaking up. Where is the stage? I thought it was by the bridge, but — they moved it where?”
Colt tapped Andrew on the shoulder and pointed to the news van driving slowly down the cordoned off street. “I think if we follow them, we’ll find the stage.”
Andrew hung up and they both ran. By the time they reached the stage area, the mayor was already behind the podium, having his face powdered while he held a campy pair of giant scissors in his hand. The fabled ribbon was stretched across the charity banner that went from one end of the stage to the other.
Colt cringed as the microphone feedback drove nails into his eardrums. He didn’t see any sign of Miles or Grayson in the area around the stage, but the crowd was so thick they could have been anywhere.
“Colt?”
Jason’s voice cut through the drone of idle chatter and Colt winced. He knew that voice. Equal parts confusion and anger. He turned to see Jason stalking toward them as Andrew excused himself to go speak to the security detail around the mayor.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Jason demanded, folding his arms over the clipboard in his hand. He looked over at Andrew and back to Colt. “And what are you doing with him?”
“It’s a long story,” Colt said, looking past Jason.
“Yeah, well, you’d better start telling it, then. You can’t be here.”
“Last time I checked, it was a public event.”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” Jason gritted out. “Did you come because you knew I’d be here? What, are you stalking me now?”
He was, but it happened to have nothing to do with his reason for being there at the moment, so Colt decided Jason didn’t need to know that. “Look, I’ll be happy to explain, but right now there’s something I have to do.”
“Just a minute,” Jason snapped, blocking his path. “You’re not getting out of this that easily. Tell me why you’re here, or I’ll have you escorted out.”
Colt barely managed to swallow a growl. Usually, Jason’s pluck was cute and charming. At the moment, it was pushing him to the brink of insanity. Andrew walked back over to save him, as much as Colt hated to admit it.
“Colt,” Andrew called. “You need to go talk to the mayor. I tried to explain the situation, but evidently, Roland didn’t get ahold of him and it’s like talking to a wall.”
Jason looked at them both like they’d lost their minds. “Colt doesn’t know the mayor. What the hell is going on here?”
“I’ll handle it,” Colt said, moving toward the stage. He froze as a man in a dark gray suit blocked his path. Every reporter in the city seemed to be gathered around the stage, and when Colt got a better glimpse of the man who’d passed him, he realized they were about to get the show of a lifetime.
As Colt lunged, he caught Grayson by the back of the collar and took him down onto the stage. A few people toward the front of the stage screamed, which ignited a chain reaction. Cameras flashed as some people started to run while others pushed in closer for a better view.
The look of shock on the mayor’s face faded when he saw the face of his would-be assailant and he motioned to his guards to help Colt restrain the struggling ghoul.
Grayson snarled fiercely at Colt, and Colt could see his eyes starting to turn. His heart raced as he struggled to think of what to do. He had to act, before Grayson shifted and exposed them all, but he couldn’t exactly take on a partially shifted ghoul without exposing himself.
Three shots scattered the crowd and filled the downtown streets with chaos. Each of Andrew’s bullets had pierced spots that would have been vital to a human, one hitting Grayson in the back of the head and the other two hitting his back just over his heart. A bullet lodged in Colt’s chest, but that was easy enough to cover up.
Grayson went limp in his arms, but Colt knew it wasn’t over. Miles was still out there somewhere, covered by the fleeing crowd, and three bullets wouldn’t keep Grayson out for long.
“Get the mayor out of here,” Colt ordered Andrew, dragging Grayson to his feet.
“What about him?” Andrew asked, nodding to Grayson with Jason close at his heels.
Colt hesitated, looking around before he grabbed the scissors from the mayor. “Do what he says,” he growled to the older ghoul. “That’s an order.”
The mayor stared at Colt with wide eyes and nodded shakily. “Y-yes, sir.”
Jason and Andrew both looked confused, but Colt was already dragging Grayson’s limp body toward the marginally private area behind the stage. The other ghoul’s eyes opened, crimson and narrow with spite as Colt raised the massive shears above his head.
“You might be an Alpha, but you’ll never lead this city,” Grayson seethed, his face contorting as dark gray hair spread out all over his body. “They’ll eat you alive.”
“You may be right,” Colt said, bringing one of the blades down on Grayson’s neck. Blood sprayed from the ghoul’s jugular, but Grayson kept struggling and clawing at Colt as he pushed down with all his strength until he felt the dull blade cut through every layer of flesh and bone. Colt lurched forward as Grayson’s neck was finally severed and the blade dug into the grass.
He took a half second to catch his breath and waited, hoping the ghoul’s features would shift back. Grayson’s eyes were still wide open and there was a grotesque snarl on his face, but the red slowly receded from his eyes and his fur withdrew into his skin.
Colt collapsed on the grass just as Roland rounded the corner. The Sheriff looked at Colt, then at Grayson’s decapitated body and breathed an unearned sigh of relief. “Where’s Miles?”
“I can’t be in two places at once,” Colt snapped.
“You’ll have to if you wanna lead this shitshow.”
“Want is a strong word,” Colt muttered, standing. “Where’s the mayor?”
“You’d better be more concerned about your buddy, Wilbur,” Roland said in a dangerous tone. “We’re supposed to be preventing exposure and you just outed us to the highest human official in the goddamn city.”
“Remember when you told me I had the power of discretion?” Colt shot back. “This is me using it. You take care of Grayson’s body, I’m gonna go look for Miles.”
Colt knew that wasn’t the last he’d hear of it, but for the moment, Roland followed his orders. It was going to take him a while to get used to that.
The crowd had mostly been evacuated by the time Colt reached the stage. Fortunately, the camera crews were among them. Colt could see Andrew giving orders to some guards up ahead as they herded the journalists toward the mall for shelter.
One crisis averted. Now to find Miles before there was another.
Colt had only ever wanted to keep the people he loved safe, and he’d done such a piss-poor job of it that no one in their right mind would entrust him to protect the city. And yet, he found himself responsible for the lives of every ghoul in Providence and a good number of humans, to boot.
The more Colt searched in vain, the more he was convinced that if Miles was going to attack again, he would have. Had he and Grayson parted ways? It was a possibility. The only thing consistent about Miles was the fact that he was always out for himself and willing to team up with whoever he thought would get him what he wanted. That wasn’t the kind of person whose moves Colt knew how to predict, let alone stop.
“Colt!”
Jason was running straight for him. He stopped short and looked Colt�
��s bloody clothes over. “Oh my God,” he gasped, tearing Colt’s shirt open. His hand stopped over the spot where the bullet had gone in. There was still dried blood, but to Colt’s relief, the bullet had slid out at some point without him realizing it. “Were you shot?”
“No,” Colt said, taking Jason’s hand to keep him from investigating any further. “I’m fine. It just grazed me.”
“That’s not possible.”
“I’m fine,” Colt insisted. He stopped, taking the time to look at Jason for the first time that night. Even in a sea of chaos, he still looked poised and professional somehow.
It was always dangerous to look at Jason. He was like a beautiful train wreck and there was always a chance of crashing if he couldn’t tear himself away.
“You’re not fine,” Jason said, his eyes full of worry and anger and fear. Colt couldn’t do a damn thing about any of it. “None of what just happened is fine, and you’re right in the middle of it. Again. Andrew is right, you’re always involved whenever something bad happens in this city.”
“Guess I just have shitty luck.”
“Don’t,” Jason snapped. “Don’t joke about this. I don’t think it’s funny.”
“Neither do I,” Colt admitted. “I just don’t know what you want me to say.”
“The truth,” Jason said earnestly. “That’s what I’ve always wanted. Whatever it is, I can handle it. You know that. You’ve known me almost my whole life.”
“And I want you to get to live the rest of it,” Colt blurted out.
Jason’s shock faded to sadness. Colt expected him to argue, but instead, he changed the subject. “How did you know that was going to happen tonight? And why did you show up with Andrew?”
“Why don’t you ask him?” Colt murmured, nodding down the hill to where Andrew was standing and talking to someone on the phone. Police cars were already flying to the scene around them.
Jason frowned. “I’m asking you.”
Before Colt could respond, his phone rang. It was Susan.
“Don’t,” Jason pleaded.
“I’ve gotta take this. Susan?”
“Not quite.” Miles’ smug voice was the most nauseating sound Colt had ever heard, and he’d just been treated to the high-definition concerto of a man’s head being sliced off with a pair of dull gardening shears.