Unborn (9 page)

“There’s nothing up there for you,” he said, leaning in closer. “Understand?”

“There’s little up there for anyone,” I replied, remembering how sparse Oz’s room was. “But I have no intention of visiting there again.”

He continued to stare at me silently, assessing something. Only when he turned and walked away did I assume he had found what he wanted in my words.

“Food’s downstairs,” he called over his shoulder.

Famished, I followed behind him until we reached the living room. He broke away to take up his station on the couch while I continued on to the kitchen. Alone, I searched the room, opening and closing cupboards and drawers methodically until I found the implements necessary to eat the food laid out across the counter. Once I served myself, I sat on the chair that had been tucked underneath the ledge of the vast rectangular surface constructed in the center of the room. As I ate, I questioned what had happened on the roof only moments earlier. Before now, I had never given any situation much analysis after the fact. For almost my whole life, I had taken most things at face value. Though the Underworld was full of deceit and various other machinations, I knew that was how it operated. There was no need for deep thought when everyone around you was evil and vindictive. Assuming the worst was a means of survival. But things in my new home were different. My brothers operated in such an unfamiliar fashion that I often found myself assessing every look, every question, every deed, for what might lie beneath it. Oz’s confounding behavior took my analysis to an entirely different level.

He made me long for home.

But fate had demanded that I return to the surface before my time and
to an unfamiliar setting, placing me in the hands of my brothers. There was a reason why, though none of us could fathom it. I chose to focus my energy on finding it. If I was ever going to return to the Underworld, I needed to discern why I was in Detroit. I also needed to procure a being capable of bringing me back from whence I had come.

A problem for another day.

8

“So I learned something interesting while I was out,” Kierson mumbled, his mouth full of some type of edible concoction. His earlier irritation with his brothers seemed to have completely dissipated. Food also often seemed to be an easy distraction for him. “It sounds as though the Breather I killed the other night wasn’t the only one seen hanging on by a thin thread recently. Very recently.”

“Where’d you hear that?” Pierson inquired from across the kitchen table, his air of superiority firmly in place.

“I have my sources, same as you,” Kierson fired back as he glared at Pierson. It seemed the brothers had parted ways not long after leaving the house, leading me to question if their investigative strengths lay in their individuality, not their combined forces. “Anyway, it sounds like there are a few of them staying together on the east side of the city limits in the old train depot, or what used to be the old train depot. At the rate that thing’s falling apart, I’m not sure there’s too much of it left standing.”

“Why out there? There aren’t humans living anywhere near that place,” Drew replied, his thoughts flowing freely from him as though he had not meant to share them at all but could not stop himself. He also appeared unable to stop himself from pacing around the kitchen.

“Fear would be my guess,” Kierson said with a shrug, resting back into his wooden chair. “If you knew that you were about to sign your own death warrant by crossing a line you couldn’t come back from, wouldn’t you stay as far away from temptation as you could?”

“That’s hardly a relevant point, given that they will need to feed sometime,” Pierson rebutted.

“True, but Kierson might not be entirely wrong.” Drew stepped up to the edge of the kitchen table where the rest of us sat, placing his hands down firmly on it. “There is safety in numbers. Perhaps they are communing together to keep themselves in check. Keep themselves from falling off the wagon, so to speak.”

“It’s not fucking AA, Drew,” Casey snarled from the far end of the table. “You’re giving them way too much credit. My bet is that they’re coming together for a common goal, and it ain’t a good one.” He stood and mimicked Drew’s stance, leaning toward him. “Why don’t we just march down there right now and take them all out. Quick and easy.”

“We don’t know that they’ve done anything wrong yet,” Pierson pointed out.

“So we should wait until they do? Kierson saw what that one did the other night. Should we wait until we have an army of them about to rain down on the humans? I’m sure that would go unnoticed . . . Nobody would find it strange at all if a slew of Empties went shuffling their way through the city like the zombie apocalypse had finally come. Or maybe we should just say ‘fuck it’ to the treaty and clean this mess up like we should have in the first place. We’re not fucking diplomats, and we’re not fucking cops. There is no system of justice here. Ou ^entoke jusr job is to maintain the balance at any cost, and, as far as I can see, having those loose cannons running around town is a risk we can’t afford.”

“What we can’t afford is to behave like the days of old,” Drew rumbled, the two staring at one another as though reliving a conversation they’d long ago had.

“I liked the old ways,” Casey purred with a reminiscent smile on his face that reached his eyes. It gave them a menacing glint.

“As I recall, but that’s not how we do things anymore. Not everything needs to be a bloodbath, Casey.”

“Maybe,” he sneered. “But it should be.”

“All right, all right! Before you two start swinging, can we go see if my source was legit first? Then we can decide how to take them out if need be.”

All eyes turned to Kierson. Pierson looked puzzled, Drew surprised, and Casey enraged.

“When will we be embarking on this mission?” I asked. “I would like to go, if for no other reason than to learn more about the enemy.”

“They’re not the enemy per se, Khara,” Drew said, turning his attention to me. “They’re no different than any of the other supernaturals that roam this earth. The Breathers are entitled to their survival just like the rest of them. But if they do in fact have plans to breech the confines of the agreement en masse, then they will pay with their lives.”

“I am not concerned with how you classify them. I only wish to learn more,” I explained from my station next to Kierson. “If I am to stay in this city, I think that only stands to reason.”

His expression tightened, weighing my words carefully before he spoke.

“I’m not sure . . .” he hedged. “If things go south, I don’t know that I want you there.”

“If your mission is for reconnaissance, then I do not see the harm. And if I am truly one of you, was I not bred to do this? To police the boundary as you all do? How will I learn to do so if I am never exposed to the very situations I was created to mediate?”

He looked pensive for a moment before sighing heavily.

“This should be a relatively benign mission,” he muttered to himself. “Fair enough, Khara. You make a valid point, though if you are to come, then it will be with all of us there to ensure your safety, should something unexpected arise. We still don’t know where your strengths and weaknesses lie. You are a daughter of Ares, and that means something, but until we know where the other half of your lineage comes from, and what skills you possess because of it, we cannot take unnecessary risks.” He walked out of the room, only to return seconds later carrying a long blade. “We have until nightfall. Let the training begin.”

Hours later, the brothers had determined that I had no remarkable talents with either weapons or my hands. I was completely untrained, and I grew tired of being reminded of that fact repeatedly. My bruises attested to that on their own.

While they struggled to ascertain how someone so unskilled could survive the perils of the Underworld, they endeavored to provide me with the centuries’ worth of training that I lacked. They were all so elegantly lethal in their movements, whereas I was anything but that. I soon found myself feeling something I never remembered feeling before: frustration. Had they not so ardently defended the veracity of our familial tie, I would have thought it untrue. To an outside party, the disconnect would have been cld th="0" aobvious.

“Khara,” Drew began before taking a long drink of water. “I’m starting to think this is a bad idea. You can’t really wield a sword or dagger or blade of any sort. And your target skills with a gun were . . .”

“Yikes,” Kierson interrupted, contorting his features into a hideous grimace.

“Inaccurate was the word I was looking for,” Drew continued, sending a chastising expression Kierson’s way. “My point is that you are more likely to be a liability than an asset in any fight.”

“But you do not wish to fight them,” I countered, recalling his earlier words. “Are we not going there solely to establish the truth of Kierson’s claim?”

“Yes, but—”

“While I may not have the abilities that you all possess, I am not without them entirely. Is survival not a skill? Evasion? Are they not forms of defense?” I asked, advancing toward him. “You may find it hard to imagine, but weapons were scarce in my father’s kingdom. And though brutality was rampant, I suffered little, comparatively speaking. Do not mistake that outcome for lack of exposure. I may have been Hades’ ward, but for some that only made me more of a target, not less of one.”

“Your point?” Pierson asked leadingly.

“My point is that I seem to have an uncanny knack for avoiding trouble even when immersed in it. Perhaps it is not a skill that you would have expected, but it has its merits nonetheless. Is it not possible that such an ability could be used to defuse the situation with the Breathers rather than escalate it?”

“Interesting theory, but would it not have worked while you were with Kierson the other night?”

“I was not given the opportunity to try.”

“You weren’t given the opportunity to try because you would have been killed if I had let you,” Kierson argued, unable to conceal his overwhelming concern.

“There is only one way to find out,” I continued. “Surely your gifts have been honed over time. If mine are not permitted to be, they will never advance and I will constantly be in the very situation you wish for me to avoid being in—at the mercy of those around me.”

I scanned the faces of the brothers, finally landing on Drew’s. A visible struggle within him plagued his expression. My words were getting to him, and he saw the validity of my claim, but it warred with his loyal and protective nature. He felt a deep responsibility for the lives of those he commanded, and he wanted to keep us from unnecessary danger, especially me. It was plain that if harm were to befall me his mind would never be at peace.

“I don’t like it, Khara,” he told me, his tone cautionary.

“Of course you do not. It goes against all you stand for to put me in front of a perceived threat, but you know that I am right.”

He sighed heavily, his brow still furrowed with concern.

“Fine. But you aren’t going out there unarmed, even if you can’t use a weapon well.” He reached around his back and produced a small dagger, one petite enough to conceal easily and withdraw quickly. “Change of plan. We’re going to spend the next hour on one sk
ill only: efficiently and effectively killing Breathers. Hopefully it’s enough time to gain some proficiency in that endeavor.”

“Hopefully she won’t need to do it,” Kierson added.

“Hopefully I’ll get to kill those fuckers all by myself, making it a nonissue,” Casey said with a malicious grin cali="7%".

Perhaps he would.

9

“Your complete lack of fear is disconcerting,” Drew mumbled as he drove into a darkened and seemingly abandoned part of the city. Night had fallen, granting us cover for the mission at hand. It was time to hunt down the Breathers.

“It serves no purpose, never changing the outcome that you are destined for,” I replied. “I choose to focus on things within my control. Extenuating circumstances, by definition, are not.”

Silence fell over the car for a moment while my words settled into my brothers’ collective consciousness.

“You are one crazy bitch,” Casey commented from his post in the back row of seats. When I turned to observe his expression, I found it to be nearly as impassive as always, though it held a hint of something new as well—amusement, perhaps.

“Not crazy. Realistic.”

He shrugged in response.

“Whatever you want to call it.”

“We’re almost there,” Drew called from the driver’s seat. “I’m going to kill the headlights so we arrive in darkness. It’s going to be hard to see since these streetlamps haven’t seen a working bulb in years and the cloud cover has the moonlight kept to a minimum.” He parked the car along a side alley before turning around in his seat to address us all. “I know this is more of a recon mission than anything else, but be on high alert. If things start to escalate, I want it shut down quickly, but only if we have to. Casey, that means keep your shit locked down until I tell you otherwise, understood?” Casey merely grunted his confirmation. “Okay then. Let’s do this.”

They all filed out of the Suburban, and I followed closely, as I had previously been instructed to. The area had a nefarious feel to it. My instinct was that Kierson’s source was right. Had I been looking for a place to hide away from the watchful eyes of the PC, I would have chosen this location for certain.

“He said that they’re on one of the upper floors of the old Central Station building,” Kierson said as we all huddled together near the rear of the vehicle. “How do you want to do this?”

“Pierson, have you had any visions of this?” Drew asked.

“No. Nothing.”

“Okay, we’ll have to go in blind then. I think we should split into three groups. Casey can take the west entrance. Pierson and Kierson, you guys can take the east. Khara and I are going to take the main entrance and follow the grand staircase up. If there is any trouble, we regroup in what used to be the main lobby area. Got it?”

“Define trouble,” Casey smirked.

“The kind that you don’t start,” Drew replied, pinning dead-serious eyes on Casey. “We’ve had this treaty for a long time now. Don’t go fucking it up because you’ve got a hard-on for payback.”

Casey stepped into Drew’s space, thrusting his face into his.

“If you don’t like how I operate, then send me somewhere else,” he snarled, staring Drew down. “Oh, wait . . . you can’t, can you? You need me, and you know it. Now, fuck off. I have things to do.”

Without another word, Casey stormed off toward the station.

“We’re going to loop around the block and go in from that direction,” Kierson informed Drew while Pierson started heading down the side street we were parke fali="ockd on. He then turned his attention to me, placing his hands on my shoulders and bending down so that his face was near mine. “Be careful in there. Listen to Drew. And, if things go south, remember what I taught you: Stab those fuckers in the throat, then run.”

“I will.”

He flashed me a grin before jogging down the road after Pierson, leaving Drew and me alone. Looking over at my companion and brother, I could still see the stress lines on his face. He truly thought me incapable of what we were about to do. Fortunately for me, his lack of confidence mattered not.

“Let’s go before I change my mind,” he muttered under his breath.

With a nod of my head, we took off running slowly toward the abandoned building, keeping to the darkest shadows. If Kierson’s source was correct, the term “abandoned” would prove to be a misnomer. Either way, I was intrigued to see what we would find when we arrived.

There was an open area surrounding the decrepit old building, presumably a once well-kept green area. I had never seen such an area before, and, even though the snow that had met me on arrival in Detroit had melted, the remnants of the dead seasons still lay below it. It was as though nature could not sustain itself in my presence.

We stopped in the doorway of the final building on the street before we crossed the deadened earth to enter the train depot. Drew pulled me near him to give me the directions he wanted me to follow.

“We’re going to sprint to the front entrance and stop along the outside of it. Make sure that you press yourself flat against the concrete pillar on the right,” he instructed, pointing to the exact place he wanted me to stop. “I’ll stop just behind the one to the left. I want to see what I can hear before we enter. It’s highly unlikely, but in the remote case of this being a setup of some sort I don’t want to walk right into it.”

“And if you hear nothing ominous?”

“Then we’re going to go straight in through the foyer to the grand staircase beyond it and haul ass up those stairs to the next level. We’ll be totally exposed at that point, so I want to get to the second floor where we can gain a little cover.”

“Understood.”

“You have your dagger?” I pulled it out to show him, the blade glimmering only slightly in the minimal light. “Good. I want it in your hand from here on out. If we’re taken off guard, you may not have time to get it out.”

I nodded, maintaining my grasp on the weapon provided to me.

With a grim expression, Drew nodded back, signaling our advance toward the building. We ran swiftly and quietly, hurdling over refuse and debris, both in the streets and the yard leading up to the depot. As I was instructed, I stopped alongside the farthest right pillar and pressed my back against it, looking over at Drew while he assessed the situation. After a minute, he seemed to be satisfied that there was nothing awaiting us. He flashed a hand signal, and we darted through the front doors that hung open and toward the massive staircase that was well beyond. Surprisingly, it was dwarfed by the magnitude of the lobby inside.

Though a small part of me wanted to take in the architectural nuance of the once-grand room, I instead continued up the staircase, taking the steps three at a time until I was beside Drew on the landing of the second floor. He quickly grabbed my arm and directed me to a hallway on our right that we could take shelter in. When we arrived, we found the twins waiting for us.

“Where’s Casey?” Drew whispered. Kierson shrugged in r kshrde Drew esponse while Pierson shook his head slowly from side to side. Before Drew could lament Casey’s insubordination, an echo from farther up the stairwell rang throughout the building. It was a singular sound multiplied by the poor acoustics in the cavernous building.

The three brothers took off immediately at lightning speed, nearly forgetting me altogether. I struggled to keep pace with them as they rounded the staircase with ease, taking flight by flight as they approached the top floor. Just before we arrived, a voice called out from the darkness.

“Well, what do we have here?” Casey’s growl was unmistakable. “It’s like a motherfucking convention for you sons of bitches.”

Seconds later, the brothers crested the landing at the top level of the train depot with me only one set of stairs behind, blade in hand. When I finally caught up, I walked into a vast and open space, able to see the entire floor in one view. What inhabited that space was precisely what we had come in search of. Kierson’s source was both reliable and accurate.

Hundreds of disheveled and crazed-looking Breathers stood in a wall formation before us. Casey stood paces in front of us, separating us from them and baiting them intently. He wanted a war, and it seemed that, if he continued his antics, he was sure to get one.

Drew, sensing the tension, kept me sheltered behind him, the twins flanking him tightly, but I could see all that was happening through the small spaces between their bodies.

“So, we hear you assholes have gone rogue as of late . . . not a wise choice,” Casey chided. “Not very smart at all. But why would I expect anything less from you leeches?”

“Casey!” Drew called out sharply.

“They look extra hungry, don’t they, Drew? That would make them a liability, would it not? And aren’t we supposed to take out liabilities?” Casey taunted, his tone clearly displaying how much he was enjoying what the evening promised him.

Drew whispered something to the twins before looking over his shoulder at me.

“Stay here. Don’t move. Anything comes at you, kill it, then run to the car.” He handed me the keys. “You know how to unlock it?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Run there. Lock it behind you and wait for us.”

Without awaiting my response, the three of them advanced slowly on the horde, fanning out as they did until they met Casey. I stared at the Breathers, whom I could now see more clearly. All had their gazes firmly locked on my brothers—the clear and present danger in the room.

Then one turned his hollow eyes on me.

They widened instantly, and I could see his breathing increase while he licked his lips. As if that were a sign to all the others, they too fixed their stares on me, behaving exactly as the first Breather had. Seeing their change in behavior, the brothers all drew their weapons.

“Drew,” Kierson called out, seeking instructions from his commander. He knew what was coming. He had seen it before.

“Steady . . .” Drew answered, surveying the posse poised to strike at any second. “We came to talk, to warn you about the one who was taken out last
night. If you want to live, then stand down.”

That same crackle of energy I had felt around him before spread through the room, but the effects were not the same as they had been before. The Breathers’ eyes never left me, as if Drew had not addressed them. As if my brothers did not exist at all.

Those eyes were on me and me alone.

And they were coming.