Unborn (16 page)

17

I surveyed my surroundings but saw nothing. It was only me and the statues of the eagles that adorned the roofline. Having no other reason to remain, I made my way to the exit and descended the numerous stairs before returning to the back alley where Oz and I had entered the building. When I turned to make my way back to the vehicle, I found Oz leaning casually against the brick façade of the building, smiling wildly.

“Took you a while.”

“I was not aware it was a race, nor that it had begun.”

“I think it’s time we get you home before the boys get good and riled up, don’t you?”

I stared in response.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he replied, turning his back on me to lead the way to his personal vehicle—a Jeep, he had called it. “And you’re welcome for the field trip. I’m not sure you’ll be getting out much now with the boys knowing what they know.”

“I think the greater issue at play here is what they do not know. That is the most important variable in I fel thethis equation.”

“Like I said, what you don’t know might kill you,” he said as we arrived at the vehicle. “And usually does, although, in your case, it may just steal your soul or turn you evil.” His expression tightened as he opened his door, looking at me across the top of the vehicle while his wavy hair danced in the wind. “I suggest you keep that in mind.”

“I keep many things in mind, Oz, your warnings included.”

He paused before responding.

“Good. That might just keep you alive then.”

“Until I am no longer entertaining to you,” I retorted as I opened the passenger door.

The gleam in his eyes was undeniable as he stared at me.

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry too much about that, new girl. There’s never a dull moment when you’re around.”

The instant we arrived at the Victorian, the fighting began. Kierson was livid, his face an ever-reddening canvas on which he displayed his rage. None of it, however, was directed toward me.

“You fucking bastard,” he yelled, charging Oz the second we stepped foot inside the house. “She may mean nothing to you, but she sure as hell means something to me. You could have gotten her killed, or emptied . . . or whatever it is that could happen to her if she falls into the wrong hands. Hell, for all we know, that’s exactly what you were
trying
to do!”

“Drew, I suggest you put a leash on him before he gets himself hurt,” Oz said, his disinterest in Kierson’s anger plain in his tone.

“Where were you?” Kierson demanded, turning to me with worry in his eyes. I remembered that look well. My father wore it the day I was taken from him.

“On a building,” I replied calmly. “I am fine.”

“Fine,” Kierson muttered under his breath. “You’re always ‘fine.’”

“I could not sleep—I felt strange. Oz offered to take me into the city, and I saw no harm in it. You have all professed that he is a great and capable warrior. I saw him slay the Breathers; I felt that all would be well.”

“Well, leave a note next time, would you?” Kierson chastised, walking away from me and toward the staircase.
He disappeared without another word. Once he did, I felt something that I had not for centuries—not since Demeter showered me daily with it while Perseph
one was imprisoned. Guilt.

Drew gave me a disapproving look while Casey and Pierson remained as disinterested as always.

“Did you learn anything productive during your spontaneous outing?” Drew finally asked, his expression sour.

“Nothing that would change my circumstances,” I reported. “Oz is unable to help me become what I was born to be. Our solution will not be him. We will have to find another Light One to determine if he or she is able to perform the task, if it can be performed at all, or find a way to return me to the Underworld, where I will be safe.”

“Well, this sounds like it’s going to be another exciting rehash of stuff I’ve already heard ten times over, so I’m going to take off. I have more important things to do,” Oz announced, not awaiting a response. Instead, he just walked back out the front door without a care. “Glad you’re feeling more yourself now, new girl,” he tossed over his shoulder just before the door sorenstead,lammed behind him.

“Well, as much as I would like to figure out whatever possessed you to go into the city with Oz, I have other matters to attend to, not the least of which is sorting out this mess with the Breathers. We may have taken out a horde of them, but we can’t be certain that is the end of them.” Drew called for Kierson, who came down the stairs without looking at me, and demanded Pierson put his research aside to join them. Casey was then ordered to remain home with me. His objections to babysitting fell on deaf ears. “And, Khara?” Drew started, looking at me with clear disappointment in his eyes. “Don’t pull a stunt like that ever again.”

The three left without further explanation, and I soon found myself standing in the entrance to the living room while Casey assessed me curiously.

“If you weren’t on house arrest before, you sure will be now,” he purred, slowly peeling himself off the couch to stalk toward me. “Was it worth it?”

“I was to be confined to this house until Drew deemed it safe for me to leave regardless of my impulsive behavior. Their reaction to my excursion with Oz this morning did not have any bearing on that.”

“Fair enough,” he replied, coming to stand before me. “But was it worth it?”

I contemplated his question.

“Yes. It was.”

We engaged in our customary staring contest before I broke my gaze, turning to walk past him to the basement door.

“The boys are going to be gone all day, you know,” Casey called after me. “Probably well into the night.” His words were a dare of sorts, taunting me as I opened the door to my room. I looked back over my shoulder to humor him. “I don’t want to be stuck here any more than you do,” he continued. “You’re PC, and I think that you should be treated as such. Nobody sits around and holds my fucking hand when shit gets real, nor did they baby those we lost to those fucking
suckers
out there. You were born of Ares like the rest of us. It’s time we started letting you act like it.”

“What are you suggesting, Casey?”

“I’m suggesting that I have a little recon of my own to do tonight, and I resent not being able to do it because I’m stuck here with you,” he explained while a malicious smile spread widely across his often listless face. “So I’m going to take my babysitting gig on the road. You’re coming with me.”

I eyed him tightly before turning back to the staircase.

“Then I shall get some rest.”

“Do that. You’re going to need it.”

“Is there a reason that all the foul and shady dealings in this city must be done in some decaying relic of a building?” I asked, surveying the crumbling concrete walls of the structure before me. They, like so many others I had seen in Detroit, were covered with brightly colored, tattoo-like paintings.

Casey turned his cold, black eyes to meet mine and said nothing in response as he advanced into the Masonic temple.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” he called into the darkness, taunting those he had come to meet. On our way here, he had refused to tell me who or what we were en route to. We progressed into the main room, the only light illuminating our path from the moon above, filtering in through the vast crevices in what had once been a roof. There was a pervasive odor that filled my nostrils—rot and decomposition. The stench of eve she il surrounded us. “Don’t make me have to work harder than I want to, boys.”

“To whom are you speaking?” I asked, seeing no one but us.

Again, my question was met with an empty stare.

He stopped walking when we arrived at the middle of the great hall, its vast nature still imposing, even though its structural integrity had waned. I was certain we would be buried alive if the wind outside continued to pick up.

“Have I not made myself clear? Perhaps I should remedy that.”

His voice carried, filling the silent, pungent air around us. It was quickly followed by a sound that I had only recently come to know as the pump of a shotgun. I had not seen him slip the firearm out from under his coat.

As the sharp sound of sliding metal echoed through the room, reverberating its way down the halls, I heard a fluttering noise that grew in both strength and volume. I recognized that sound as well—the flapping of wings.

“Yesss,” replied a serpent-like voice from the shadows. “You have made yourssself clear.”

A dark, leathery creature emerged, barely visible, from a corner of the room, approaching on all fours. It had a thick, broad build, like that of a massive canine, and its movements were cautious and slow. Had it not been for its obvious and palpable fear of Casey, I would have thought it—it and all its minions that slowly came at us from every perceivable angle—was stalking us, preparing an attack.

They scaled the walls, crawling down from the roof above and up from the gaping holes in the wood floor beneath our feet, closing in around us. There was an insidious quality to them that I could not place. I had not seen such beastly things in my life, but there was a strange familiarity to them. They reminded me of the demon animals my father commanded.

Suddenly, in the blink of an eye, they were upon us. Completely surrounded by the unfamiliar creatures, my eyes shot over to Casey, who stood stoically, unfazed by their surprising change in advance tactics. Whatever they were, they moved with unnerving speed, which failed to bother Casey at all.

“Who would like to be the first to tell me exactly what the fuck is going on in this city, specifically with the Breathers?” Casey started, his voice low and even, as it always was. “We just took out a nest of them. Funny that we knew nothing about it before one of them went rogue.”

“What makesss you think we know anything about—”

A piercing blast tore through the room, nearly deafening me in the process. The screeching sound that the mysterious creatures made in response did nothing to assuage the ringing in my ears, and I clung to the sides of my head in a futile attempt to deflect both the sound and the pain.

“Now,” Casey continued, “I will ask again. Who would like to be the first to tell me what the fuck is going on with the Breathers?”

“We don’t know exxxactly,” replied the beast that had stepped closest to Casey. He was larger than the others and possessed a menacing appearance, the scars carved deeply into his leathery face testifying to his violent past. What struck me most was his offset jaw and his lower canine tooth that was larger than the others, which caused it to project strangely from his mouth. It accounted for his speech impediment.

Casey tsked in a dramatic show of disappointment.

“Wrong answer, Azriel. Must I carve your friend up to get the details I’m looking for, or might we be a tad more civilized and you just tell me everything metify">“ you know without me having to interrogate you?” Casey inquired, making his way over to the beast he had shot. Instead of the limp mass I expected to see lying on the ground before him, a frozen and statue-like creature stood unmoving. It looked to be made of stone.

It was then that I recognized just what we were dealing with. I had seen one, only days earlier while out with Kierson, perched on one of the towering buildings near the Tenth Circle. A gargoyle, he had called it, though he failed to mention at the time that it was anything more than just a hideous decoration to an otherwise unadorned building.

Casey held the shotgun in such a way that would allow him to club the motionless gargoyle before him with the butt end. I presumed that, if the creature had not been killed by the initial shot, it had incapacitated him on some level. Tapping the stony beast’s head tauntingly with the butt of his weapon, Casey trained his eyes on what I assumed to be the leader of the winged ones.

“Shall I start here?” he asked, his tone inquisitive while indicating his target.

“There isss no need for that. I will tell you all I know—all
we
know.”