I slowed down as the young men stepped out into the damp night air. The little spirit suddenly rushed forward, brushing past the one with rich brown skin. The guy stumbled, looking down as the spirit passed by and disappeared in a blink of an eye.
“You okay, Drew?” the other man asked, touching his arm.
“Yeah. I...” Drew stared at the spot where the child had disappeared. “Yeah, I am. Everything is good.”
Watching them, I wondered just how much Drew had felt or was possibly aware of. People often could feel the presence of a ghost, especially if they did that creepy and annoying thing where they walked through a person. And depending on how active and strong the ghost was, they could even catch sight of one. Spirits were different, though. People often caught that familiar scent. Sometimes they would suddenly feel warm or inexplicably be reminded of the person who’d passed on. To feel one as intensely as the man called Drew just had made me think he had a little angelic blood in him.
Dez had stopped, and I got myself moving again. My empty stomach rumbled, and I realized I had no idea when I last ate. Normally on these patrols, I’d already eaten three days’ worth of meals and half of whatever...whatever Zayne had picked up.
My appetite immediately vanished.
Foot traffic picked up once the bars started shutting down, making it a lot more difficult to walk the sidewalks, but I stuck close to the businesses. Roughly around the same time, I did feel the presence of demons. Nothing serious like an Upper Level demon, though, and the building frustration was quickly becoming desperation.
Where could he be? Lifting my gaze to the sky, I saw nothing but darkness. What was he doing? I trudged on, refusing to acknowledge the aches and pains I hadn’t felt earlier but that were now rearing their ugly heads. What if he left the city? Panic blossomed, giving way to a sense of helplessness. God, I couldn’t even consider that. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t.
Minutes turned into another hour. The streets quieted. The traffic slowed. Each step became more sluggish.
Dez finally stopped. “Trinity,” he said, his voice weary and heavy. “It’s time.”
I knew what he meant, but I still asked, “For what?”
“To head home.” He walked over, stopping to stand beside me. “We can pick this back up tomorrow, but if he’s out here, he doesn’t want to be found.” There was a pause. “You need your rest, Trinity. Finding him while you’re bone-dead tired isn’t going to do any of us any favors.”
Dez was right, but I wanted to argue. I wanted to stay out here until I found Zayne, but I nodded and I followed Dez back to the car. I climbed into the passenger seat, closing my eyes and praying to whoever that was listening that Zayne was still in the city, that he was safe and that it wasn’t too late.
6
It was close to dawn by the time I limped into the dimly lit apartment. I came to a stop as the elevator door slid closed behind me, unable to move as I looked around.
Everything I saw reminded me of Zayne. Not the Fallen Zayne, but my Zayne.
The exposed metal beams of the ceiling and the bare walls gave the apartment a very industrial vibe. Most of the living area was taken up by a large gray sectional couch wide enough for two Wardens to lay side by side. The simple chrome-finished end tables and coffee table were void of any personal touches. There was a punching bag hanging above rolled-up training mats, in the corner of a space I assumed was normally used for a dining area. Looking down, I saw a pair of Zayne’s sneakers by the door, placed there in preparation for a run. No one had touched them in the days since his death. Not Roth or Layla. Not any number of the Wardens who’d been in and out of the apartment. My heart ached as I lifted my gaze.
Well, almost everything reminded me of Zayne. The TV left on in the empty room wasn’t something Zayne would do. That was courtesy of either Cayman, the demon broker, or Peanut, the ghostly roommate. The rolled-up bags of chips, the empty soda cans on the kitchen island and the dishes in the sink were most definitely not Zayne. The mess was the result of any number of the people who’d been here, but the package of Oreos ripped open down the middle was definitely me.
If Zayne was here to see this, he would...he would probably sigh and then get down to cleaning like the place needed to be decontaminated. That brought a smile to my lips.
And another pang to the chest.
Toeing my sneakers off, I dragged myself away from the door, shuffled over to the couch, and found the remote. I turned the TV off and, unable to deal with the silence, I turned the TV back on five seconds later.
I then headed into the narrow, short hall that led to two bedrooms. The one to the left was empty. Zayne had said that was his room for when I got annoyed with him. There was only one bed, and he’d put it in my room, but my room was really our room. I stared at the door left ajar. I stood there for what felt like an eternity before I pushed the door open.
I didn’t dare look up. I couldn’t do it—couldn’t look directly at the stars Zayne had placed on the ceiling. I could barely deal with the faint, soft glow of them. Keeping my gaze lowered, I smacked around on the wall until I found the light switch, then walked past the unmade bed and rummaged around in the clothing spilling out of my suitcase until I found clean pajamas.
Walking into the bathroom, I turned the light on as I nudged the door shut behind me. In the mirror, I saw myself for the first time since I’d left the apartment.
The pajama bottoms slipped from my fingers, falling quietly to the floor. I left them there as I walked forward. My reflection shocked me.
My dark hair had dried in a ratty mess, but that was nothing new. Neither were the blue-tinted healing bruises along my cheeks, under my eyes. It was the new ones, the bruises that were more purplish along my chin. The new ones that had joined the healing ones around my throat.
I closed my eyes and clamped my jaw down, fighting the building scream. I wanted to scream until my throat hurt and my ears rang. I wanted to scream until I couldn’t feel anything ever again, because this wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair. Not for me. Not for Zayne. If it wasn’t too late, if I could bring him back and if he remembered this, he would...
It would kill a part of him.
God. I missed Zayne.
I missed Jada.
I missed Thierry and Matthew.
I missed Peanut’s goofy ass.
But I knew if I talked to Jada or Thierry and Matthew, they would be worried about me—about all of this—and I didn’t want to do that to them. Especially when there was nothing they could do. It wasn’t like they could come here. With Gabriel lurking around, it was far too dangerous.
There was a small, childish part of me, though, that wanted to not only rewind time, but to also change the past to one where we were all at...like a barbecue or something. Even Cayman would be there, and Peanut would be doing something weird, like pretending to eat the hot dog someone was actually eating.
But I couldn’t rewind time or change the past.
Heart and chest heavy, I moved away from the mirror and turned on the shower, cranking up the hot water. Stripping the soiled clothing off me, I stepped in. Air hissed through my clenched teeth as the hot spray hit old and new abrasions. I pushed through it, watching the pink and brown water circle the drain until it cleared. I washed my hair twice and overloaded the loofa with so much body wash the pineapple and mango scented gel oozed down my arm. By the time I was done, the bathroom was a steamy fruit basket.
Once dressed in the pajamas, I picked up Zayne’s comb and worked out the tangles in my hair, hoping that there’d be a chance for him to get annoyed over that later. Leaving the bathroom, I grabbed the pillow and blanket, taking them out into the living room. I turned the corner of the couch into a bed and eased down, wrapping the blanket around me. The blanket smelled sweet, like chocolate and the sugary wine Matthew liked to drink. It smelled like Bambi—Roth’s familiar. The six-f
oot snake had spent the last several days curled up beside me, resting with her head on my leg while I healed. I think she’d done that because I’d helped return her to Roth. The pillow, though...
I turned my head, pressing my cheek into the pillow. It smelled of wintermint. The backs of my eyes burned as I squeezed them shut.
There was still hope.
He was alive.
It wasn’t too late.
That’s what I kept telling myself until I began to drift off. It felt like minutes passed before I was jarred awake.
“Trinnie!” a voice shouted directly in my face.
I jerked upright, my heart launching itself somewhere into the vicinity of the ceiling as my eyes popped open. Hovering several feet off the floor was the ghostly form of Peanut.
“Jesus,” I rasped, blinking several times. Muted daylight streamed in front of the windows. “I think you gave me a heart attack.”
“You? I gave you a heart attack?” he screeched, and it was a good thing that 99.5 percent of the populace couldn’t hear him. “Where have you been all night? I came home, and you were gone. I kept coming back and then it happened.”
Shoving the hair out of my face, I waited until my vision cleared. Peanut’s dark hair was messy, like he’d been inside a wind tunnel. The Whitesnake concert shirt was as vintage as his red Chuck Taylors, but when I focused on his feet, I realized from the knees down he was completely transparent.
My brows rose. “What time is it?”
“I don’t know. I’m dead. Do I look like I have a watch or need one?”
“Well, you think you need your own bathroom so why wouldn’t you think you need a watch?” I muttered.
“That’s different,” he argued, lowering. It looked like the coffee table ate half his body. “Just because I’m dead doesn’t mean I don’t need my privacy.”
“As if you respect anyone else’s privacy.” I reached for my phone on the end table. I hit the screen, seeing only a handful of hours had passed since I’d fallen asleep. Not nearly enough to get any true rest.
But long enough for Zayne to get into any amount of trouble.
“Who cares about privacy right now? You’ve been gone all night and something...something happened.” Not known for toning down the dramatics, he smacked his hands against his cheeks. “It happened.”
“What happened?” I asked as I shoved the blanket off and rose. Knowing Peanut, whatever he was freaking out about was probably something normal. Like “it happening” was him hearing the refrigerator running.
“Something superweird, dudette.”
Bones and muscles stiff, I shuffled toward the kitchen, feeling like a hundred years old. “What happened, Peanut?” I opened the fridge door and grabbed a Coke.
Peanut drifted out of the coffee table and turned toward the kitchen. His lower body became more solid. “I don’t know what it was,” he said as I snapped open the can and lifted it to my mouth. “But I was sucked into the nothing.”
The bubbly carbonated goodness hit my throat, burning in the best way just as he spoke. I almost choked as I swallowed hard. “What? The nothing?”
He drew close enough for me to see how big his eyes were. “Yes. That is exactly what I said. I was chilling with Gena down below,” he said, and I made a mental note that now I knew the girl lived on one of the lower floors—one of the many lower floors. For some concerning reason, Peanut was supervague when it came to this girl. “And then it felt like an invisible string had grabbed ahold of me and there was an intense flash of white light, but the light was, like, falling? I thought, no way, I’m going into the afterlife whether I want it or not.”
I stared at him, taking another drink while wondering if it was possible for ghosts to do drugs. And if so, was I going to have to have a talk with him.
“But it wasn’t the afterlife. No. I was suddenly in this place that was supergray and stagnant, with all these people that I’d never seen before. And I mean lots of people.” He came through the kitchen island and to my side, so that he was two inches from me. “You see how close we are?”
“Uh. Yeah.”
“This is how crowded the place was. We all were crammed into this nothing world, first to be all up in each other’s personal space. I was so confused and freaked—totes freaked. Wherever I was, it wasn’t dope or gnarly. Then a couple of moments later, I was thrust back to here. That place, though. It was...” He floated back, shaking out his shoulders. “It was empty, Trinnie. It was full of people but empty.”
The fog of sleep and exhaustion cleared as I stared at him. This wasn’t one of his normal overreactions to something extraordinarily common. He was being serious and—
I lowered the can of soda. “You said there was a pop of bright, falling light? Around what time?”
“I don’t know. A few hours after the sunset? I wasn’t really paying attention.” Peanut started to rise. “I was watching Poodle Exercise with Humans on YouTube.”
My brows knitted and I started to question that, but shook that idea out of my head. “And you don’t know where you went to?”
“No, Trinnie. I mean, I don’t know if it was it,” he said, getting very close to one of the ceiling fans.
“What do you think it is?”
“You know, it.” He reached the fan. The blades sliced through the top of his head. “Purgatory. I was sucked into purgatory.”
Okay. I hadn’t expected him to say that. “Are you sure?”
“I’ve never been, so I could be wrong. The place doesn’t sound rad at all,” he said as the fan continued to churn through his head. It was a very disturbing thing to witness. “But that’s how I imagine such a downer of a place to feel. Like there is no hope and there is just...nothing.”
“That sounds...weird,” I murmured, concerned. It was highly unlikely that what had happened to him had anything to do with Zayne, but a falling bright light that sucked him into what could possibly be purgatory around the same time Zayne arrived? Even if it didn’t, could it happen again? Peanut could be superannoying, but I...well, I loved him like I imagined one grew to love an annoying sibling or something.
I guessed I’d add that to the ever-growing list of things to be stressed about.
“Anyhoo, so obviously I was super-freaked-out and I came to find you, but you weren’t here.” The ceiling fan was now cutting through his face. “What were you doing? It couldn’t be hunting demons or the Harbinger of Doucheness?”
Harbinger of Doucheness? I almost laughed. “No, I wasn’t hunting. I just needed to get out, clear my head and...” I frowned. “I know my vision is bad, but I can see you. Can you please get out of the fan. I don’t think you understand how freaky that looks.”
“Oh, my bad.” He came back down, and even sat himself on the bar stool, hooking one leg over the other, sitting all prim and proper. “So, you needed some headspace? Did you find the space you were looking for?”
“Um. Yes and no.” I came around the island and sat beside him. That was when I realized that he’d sunk into the seat, to his waist. Pulling my gaze from that, I placed the soda on the coaster and prepared myself for the one hundred and one questions that were, understandably, about to come my way. “I saw Zayne last night.”
“Reaaaaally?” Peanut said, drawing the word out before I could continue.
“I know how it sounds, but it’s true.” I met his somewhat visible eyes. “He’s alive, Peanut, and he’s a fallen angel.”
Now he was staring at me in a way I imagined I’d been staring at him moments before. I told him everything, and it took about an hour or so, because I had to keep repeating things. I started eating the Oreos that had been left out on the island around the whole Zayne didn’t recognize me part and I’d nearly finished the entire package by the time I got to the I needed to stab him in the heart thing. Throughout the whole thing, Peanut pretty much
freaked out, disappearing and coming back. He floated to the ceiling again and into the fan. Then he bounced around the apartment, but finally he’d returned to the island and seemed to have calmed down.
“So, that was what I was doing last night.” I finished off my Coke. “I was with Dez and we were looking for him. We didn’t find him obviously.”
Peanut stared at me. “And here I thought Gabriel was the worst of your problems.”
A strangled laugh left me. “You and me both.” Stretching over, I grabbed the box of granola bars. I hadn’t bought them, but I didn’t think Zayne had, either, because these were of the unhealthy, chocolate chip variety. “I can’t even think about the Harbinger right now or how in the Hell I’m supposed to stop him before the Transfiguration.”
“Or stay alive until then,” Peanut commented.
Biting down into the bar, I shot him a dark look.
“What?”
“That didn’t help,” I said around a mouthful of granola and chocolate.
“I’m just donning my Captain Obvious hat, okay? I know it’s not helpful, but I don’t even know how to be helpful. Oh! Wait. Maybe I could ask the other ghosts if they’ve seen him.” He pitched forward, halfway into the island.
Sighing, I stared down at the crumbs and my darkest fears sort of spilled out of me. “I have no idea where he is, if he’s even in the city still. What he’s doing or if it’s too late.”
“He has to be in the city,” Peanut stated. “And it can’t be too late. Don’t even think that. It won’t help you or him.”
I didn’t respond at first to the surprisingly calm and measured response from the ghost. Finally I nodded. “I know, but it’s kind of hard not to think like that. It’s impossible to not think about finding him and having to fight him for real. Not because he’s strong, but...”
Grace and Glory Page 6