Authors: Megan Morgan
Cindy blinked. “What?”
June told her what happened the night before.
“Occam dumped a dead vampire in Sam’s yard?” Cindy sat down in a chair, still holding the picture. “Just to send you a message?”
“And to woo me.” June sat too. “I guess I’m supposed to swoon now that he’s killed the vampire that shot me, and I’m supposed to be grateful to him because Jason and Diego are all right.”
“He can’t take no for an answer. Talk about a creep.”
“The thing is, I’ve never said no. Except at first, before I knew he was holding anything over me. If I flat out tell him no now, I’m afraid he’ll rip out Jason and Diego’s organs and dump them on me. I have to get them back first before I deny him anything.” She glanced over her shoulder. “I think he’s been watching me. I think he’s been creeping around here, keeping an eye on me.”
Cindy shuddered. “This is horrific. I bet Robbie is taking notes. It’s only going to give him ideas.”
June recalled what Sam had said the night before, what Anthony had heard Robbie say on the phone.
“There’s this guy helping Sam,” June said. “Trying to help him find Robbie. I’m not sure I trust him.”
“Robbie’s brother,” Cindy said. “Yeah, I know.”
June was taken aback. “He told you?”
“He told us everything. I don’t know the guy. I know
of
him. He joined the Paranormal Alliance a couple years ago, but he doesn’t participate much. It’s fascinating, the power he has. Still, I understand not trusting him, even if he claims he hates his brother.”
“I’ve just seen too many people we trusted betray us.” June glanced toward the kitchen, where Sam and Natalie were. “I’ve seen Sam trust too many people and get burned.”
“And now with Muse gone…”
“Maybe I need to get him a new mind reader for Christmas.”
“Can you get me one too? It would make dating easier.”
June was too scared to go outside, even in broad daylight, so she stayed in, despite the house filling up with people. Sam seemed to be having a big meeting. She escaped upstairs and checked the Internet to see what the blogs were saying about her and Sam today.
They were more concerned with vampires.
Eventually, Sam came upstairs. She was stretched across the bed.
“Would you like to take a little trip with me?” He sat down next to her.
She looked up from the laptop in front of her. “Where to?”
“I need to get something from my storehouse. The place where I keep all the stuff we pilfered from the Institute. Thankfully, the FBI knows nothing about it, so it remains intact, at least according to my officers.”
She recalled the ultraviolet light Sam procured from his storehouse to use against Occam.
“What are you going to get there?” she asked. “Do you have more of those lights? We might need them.”
“No, but I have other things. I also want to do a general inventory. See if there’s anything else we might make use of.”
“Why do you want me to go with you?”
He patted her ass. “I thought you might find it interesting.” He rested his hand there. “And I’d rather you not be alone here.”
She rolled over and reached for him. He took her hand in both of his.
“Do you think this is ever going to end?” she asked softy. “That one day we’ll all be safe?”
He leaned over, kissed her gently, and rested his forehead against hers. She closed her eyes. The subtle, musky scent of his cologne enveloped her.
“It feels like we’ve been this way forever, doesn’t it?” he whispered. “The days, the weeks, the months. It feels like an eternity we’ve been enduring this. We’ve lost so much in such a short time.”
He’d lost more than she had. She had been lucky to get back the things she lost, and would be double lucky if she got them back again.
“What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger, right?” she murmured.
“Or makes us wish we were dead.” He lifted his head and kissed her again. “It’s not all bad. A few good things came out of it.”
“Are you getting sappy again?”
He answered with a longer, deeper kiss. She liked the way he kissed—no hesitation, no doubt. She liked everything about the way he treated her, paid attention to her, wanted her. She liked it all way too much—so much she was afraid if he figured out they weren’t compatible, she wouldn’t be able to sever herself from him without a great deal of pain.
He rested his head on her shoulder, holding her hand against his chest. She stared at the ceiling, her lips tingling.
“When are we leaving?” she asked.
“In an hour or so. I’ll bring Cindy and Natalie with us. The place isn’t huge, but there’s a lot of stuff there. I don’t want to miss anything.” He sat up and let go of her hand. “Are you feeling better?” He rubbed her stomach.
She nodded. “I kept some food down. I’m starting to get used to the taste of puke. Maybe I can jazz it up by eating different things. You know, add some variety?”
He grimaced and then smiled. “I’m glad to see you have a sense of humor still.”
“It’s that or sit around crying and shaking.” She placed a hand over his on her stomach. “I have faith in Trina. Or I’m trying to, anyway.”
“I’m glad I kidnapped her for you.” He leaned over and placed another firm, quick kiss on her lips. “You know, I don’t have to go directly back downstairs. I can tell them I was up here looking for something….”
She pinched his inner thigh. “Later. Go play with your friends.”
He sighed dramatically and slid off the bed. “I’ll come get you when it’s time to go.”
“I’ll be here.” She rolled back over and faced the laptop.
Cindy drove, Natalie in the front with her. Sam and June sat in the back and ducked down as they pulled out. The street was empty, apart from a handful of FBI guards.
Sam sat up. “The vampires are more interesting right now. I’m almost insulted.”
He gave Cindy directions. They got on a freeway.
“This is exciting.” Cindy drummed her hands on the wheel. “I’ve always wanted to go to the storehouse. I feel like it’s some kind of treasure trove.”
“It’s not that exciting,” Sam said. “It’s probably pretty dusty these days too.”
June sat close to Sam’s side. His amorousness from earlier hadn’t worn off, as he slowly rubbed her thigh, dipping his fingers deeper between her legs with each pass. When those fingers inched dangerously close to her crotch, she eyed him.
He smiled deviously. She wouldn’t mind a clandestine finger banging, but that would be rude to the others in the car. Not to mention Cindy’s sex witchery might get stirred up.
They spent a long time on the freeway. They were traveling in the direction of Promontory Point, where they’d attended the first press conference back in January. They passed it, though.
Sam finally sat forward. As he did, he slipped his hand up her thigh and into her crotch. “Take the next exit and make a right,” he told Cindy.
June locked her legs around his wrist. Undeterred, he rubbed firmly.
As he sat back, she smacked his arm. He pulled his hand out, not looking at her but grinning. Naughty smug jerk.
They exited the freeway near the lake and drove through an industrial area, past factories with huge smokestacks, vast yards filled with machinery and textiles, and fenced-in lots. Though the windows were up, a sulfur-y metallic smell seeped through the air vents.
“Just keep driving for a bit,” Sam said. “I’ll tell you when.” He kept his hand on June’s knee, like a good boy.
They ended up in an abandoned train yard, or so it appeared. Rusted train cars sat everywhere, most of them with panels and doors missing and covered in graffiti. A small brick building sat on one side of the dirt and gravel yard, the windows boarded up and covered with bars. Cindy pulled the car beneath a sagging awning on the side of it.
The building was dilapidated, the bricks cracked and some fallen out, more graffiti sprayed across them. The area was open and eerily empty. In the distance, factories chugged out smoke, and a thin blue slice of lake glimmered on the horizon.
“This feels like the middle of nowhere,” June said.
“It is.” Sam took his hand off her knee and opened his door. “The best place to keep things you don’t want anyone to find.”
They all got out. The day was hot and humid and the acrid smell on the air made June’s nose burn. The wind rattled the tattered plastic awning above them and made loose bits of metal clink on the train cars. The sounds added to the eeriness.
“How did you get a place like this?” June asked as they walked around the building.
“I bought it.” Sam had a ring of keys in his hand. “This used to be a train car repair depot. I was planning on scrapping all that metal.” He gestured toward the train cars. “Make my money back and more, and then develop the land. But that was around the time I was making my treaty with Aaron, and I got distracted.”
They stopped at a wooden door on the side of the building. Sam unlocked it.
“I eventually realized this was a good place to hide things. I transferred ownership of the land to one of Aaron’s many partners, just in case anybody dug into my business.” He pushed the door open. “I pay his partner a little fee each year to leave it sitting here unused.”
“So in the end,” Cindy said, “you lost more on this wasteland than you meant to gain.” She squinted up at the building. “Not as impressive as I hoped.”
“You haven’t seen the inside yet,” Sam said.
They all filed in. The interior was cool and musty like a basement, also pitch black, since all the windows were boarded up. Shockingly, the place had electricity, as Sam turned on a series of utility lights strung through the wooden ceiling beams. The lights created disjointed shadows in the rafters, cobwebs clinging to the fixtures and making them fuzzy.
Shelves lined the brick walls, crates and boxes stacked on the floor. Most everything was covered in a layer of dust. The concrete floor was also thick with it, so much they left footprints.
June turned in a circle. “There’s a lot of stuff in here.”
“Not all of it is pilfered from the Institute.” Sam walked over to a tarp and dragged it down. “I have a lot of Paranormal Alliance junk in here too.”
“Do people guard this place?” June asked. When Muse had brought Sam the ultraviolet light, she’d mentioned his storehouse was left unguarded.
“They used to.” Sam flung the tarp on the floor, a cloud of dust swirling up. “I’d have people ride past here a couple times a day. They dropped off in my absence, though. I don’t blame them. My officers had more important tasks, like proving my innocence.”
Natalie had a stack of notebooks. She patted them. “We better get to work. We got a big list to go through.”
“I used to take inventory every six months,” Sam told June. “I want to be thorough with this, given I’ve had no access to it for a while.”
They pulled tarps off other things. June did a lot of sneezing and trying to avoid spiders. Most of the shelves were crammed with boxes. Another room was connected to the main one, filled with more shelves.
The second room held mostly Paranormal Alliance paraphernalia: flyers, booklets, posters, signage, and décor from various events, and also stacks of paperwork. Sam was a pack rat. This character flaw was oddly endearing, since he was so efficient in all other aspects of his life.
June held up a dusty poster. “‘The Paranormal Alliance Winter Fundraiser,’” she read. “‘Raising awareness for paranormal violence and creating community support for victims.’” The date was in late December of the previous year, and it had been held in a hotel ballroom. A fancy affair, judging by the flourished script.
Sam dug through a tote full of books. “Yes, we have it every year. It’s a big to-do; lots of rich important people are invited. Not just paranormal people.”
“And do they become aware of paranormal violence?”
“They claim to. They write big checks for people who have been beaten up and kicked around.”
“Will they be supporting us, specifically, this year? After what we’ve been through?”
His eyes glinted in the light. “I’m sure we’ll be the hot topic of this year’s banquet, yes. You’ll have to wear a nice dress.”
She rolled the poster up. “One dress a year, that’s all I can manage.”
Sam pulled a book out of the tote and blew dust off the cover. He held it out to her. “One of my books,” he said. “That I wrote.”
She took it. “
Paranormal Politics
,” she read the title. “
Social Issues in a Magical World
.” She eyed him. “Is this about how to become Chicago’s first shapeshifter mayor?”
He chuckled. “Something like that. It’s about being a paranormal politician in a normal politician’s world, and how to make those two things work together so everyone benefits.”
She opened the book and flipped through it. So many pages, so many words. “Does it take a long time to write a book like this?”
“As much as I like to express my opinion?” He stood. “A lot of it is modified entries from journals I kept. I never intended to make it into a book until some literary agent told me I should. I think I should convince them to do a re-issue, given my current ambitions. The city needs to read it, if they haven’t already.”
“Does that mean you’ll autograph this for me?’
“Can I autograph your boob instead?”
“Please, I’ll never wash it again.”
Natalie and Cindy took inventory, starting with the shelves in the main room. Sam showed her things they’d taken from the Institute. Most of it was not as impressive as the ultraviolet light they’d tried to use on Occam—in fact, most of it was just folders of research. Sam explained his people would photocopy test results and smuggle them out. He also had pictures—odd and clinical—of the insides of vampire’s mouths with their fitted fangs, pictures of substances on fire after being ignited by pyrokinetics, and pictures of people’s eyes, intense and vivid like June’s.
He had a pair of noise-cancelling headphones, like the ones the researchers used around her and Jason—they were more advanced than regular noise-cancelling headphones and injected white noise into the wearer’s ears to block sound further. June wanted to fling them away.