Chapter 13
CHAPTER 13
Not knowing what else to do, Miranda fills me with tea and scones while Lucas briefs me on the details of what we’re stepping into. Step one, apparently, is tracking down the hive as I’ve decided it’s called. Step two is doing my best to suppress the way my magic calls out. Surprise is a plus, so announcing myself like a marching band is out. After that, we wind our way through the hideout like ninjas, Lucas slashing throats, me backing him up. The sticky part, the one where I might end up dead on a warehouse floor, is handling the big boss, and that is something only I can do.
“It sounds cliché, but you will need to summon all of your courage, your confidence, and your most powerful magic, channeling it all into your core. If you waver for even a second, the Ripper will find your weakness and destroy you.”
“And you?” I ask, wondering just how many people are going to die today.
“Me as well. But that is my responsibility, after all.”
“Your responsibilities suck,” I note.
He laughs. “Yes, they do. But neither one of us seems able to escape our fates.”
I look at Lucas who, for the most part, appears to be just a regular guy about my age. If I were to allow myself to stop pretending I’m not interested in any of the humans, especially guys, I would admit that he is attractive, physically and otherwise. We may have started out rough with the lying and all, but Lucas has been by my side awaiting his fate - his death - with courage and resignation. His job is to lay down his life for me, a stranger, and he will do that job to the very end. He will protect me for the greater good and because it is what is expected. How many people are actually that selfless? It’s like he really is from another time.
He catches me looking at him. “Something wrong?”
Warmth spreads out across my face but I try not to look away. “Everything,” I answer. “But...just...thank you. Thank you for being here with me, for seeing it through. I know I’m not the easiest and you are only doing this because you have to, but still, don’t think it doesn’t make me feel better to have you around.”
He looks down at me without speaking until I start to feel like an idiot.
“It’s true that this is my assignment,” he says, “but know that if I were released from my bond today, I would remain by your side, all the way to the end. No matter the outcome.”
I’m sure I know what my aura must look like. Good thing Lucas can’t read it.
He steps closer until only there is barely a blade width between us.
“But let’s try not to die, shall we?”
I clear my throat. “Righty-oh.” Seriously? “Let’s go,” I make a swinging motion, “lop off some heads.”
Lucas waits a beat before grinning. “Indeed.”
I head for the door but as I’m about to step through, I’m jerked backward. Lucas is pulling on the hem of my sweatshirt. “You are going to be careful, aren’t you?”
“I have no idea what I’m doing, Lucas. I’m not sure how careful I can be.”
He wipes a hand across his mouth and I find myself wondering if he’s nervous. How can a Watcher be nervous? Then I remember how things went down last time. How can he not be nervous?
“I’ll be focused. Brave without being stupid.”
He’s waiting for something. I can see it in his eyes.
“I won’t ditch you.”
He looks at me, questioning my truthfulness.
“Good,” he says. He drops my shirt.
Before leaving, I decide to look in on Nana, to see if anything is better - or worse. Graham sits in the arm chair, a steaming mug of tea in his hand, watching. It’s like he’s waiting for an egg to hatch.
“Where’s Miranda?” I ask.
“She had to run the shop. I’ve been given strict instructions to stay here and report on any changes.”
“And have there been - any changes?”
He smiles a half smile. “I’m afraid not. And what of you, Tristan? Off to slay the dragon, eh?”
“That’s a real kick in the ass, isn’t it? I’m the one who’s going to save this family.”
Graham stands up to his very impressive model height and takes my hand. “There is truly no one better for the job. We have every faith in you.”
People keep saying that. I wish I felt as sure. I’ve never done a single thing I would categorize as brave. There’s just as much chance I’ll wet my pants and run as actually kill someone.
I glance down at Nana. When I was barely a year old, she took me in without question and raised me more like a daughter than a granddaughter. She did her best to protect me from what I am, no doubt hoping it wouldn’t be necessary to ever let me in on how powerful I really am. I can’t let her down. Or Miranda or Graham and certainly not Nick.
I shrug and offer him the weakest of smiles. “I’ll do what I can. And Graham?”
He raises his eyebrows.
“Take care of Miranda, OK? You know in case…”
“Always.”
I turn to Lucas. “Let’s go, Killer.”
Lucas and Graham exchange a look and Graham whispers something I can’t hear but which I assume is along the lines of, “Don’t let her die.”
I feel like I’m saying goodbye to everyone. Might as well say goodbye to Miranda.
I find her in the dining room being extra crabby, snatching cash, slamming drawers. It’s amazing anyone even comes in here.
I step up behind her and she jumps, which is odd since she can read my aura even though she tries not to.
She lifts her perfectly shaped eyebrows. “We’ll talk about what he was doing in your room last night when you get back.” It’s her version of “I love you. Don’t die.”
I roll my eyes. “Can’t wait.”
It’s the only words we have for now, the only ones we need.
Lucas hands me my coat. I tug it on, zip up, and the two of us head out into the street.
“You’re all right?” he asks.
“Never better.” I’m about thirty seconds from passing out or throwing up. “So where do you think we should head?” A bus passes by spraying icy slush onto the sidewalk. “Will this require public transportation? Because I don’t have my Metrocard.”
He laughs. “No. No mass transit.”
I shove my hands down into my pockets to keep them from shaking. “Good. I would hate to be late.”
“As I told you earlier, they usually choose a place that’s both out of the way and in the midst of the action.”
Steinway Street is definitely “the midst of the action,” with stores, and restaurants, and clubs lining both sides of the street. Even today, a freezing Sunday, the place will be swarming with humans once the sun is fully up and stores are open. People will pour in and out of the subway, passing the stores I know inside out. It’s early in the day, the sun hiding behind the gray February sky. It smells like snow. Most places are still closed waiting late risers and Sunday shoppers.
We reach Nick’s family’s restaurant, La Cocina Mexicana, a place I’ve spent as much time in as my own house. When we were little, we’d sit at one of the plastic covered tables with its tea light and vase with two silk flowers, eating très leches cake or stand on the little step stool working the register, collecting extra big tips from people who thought we were adorable. I can’t even begin to think about a life without Nick or, maybe even worse, one in which he is a soulless drone, drained of his blood, of his essence.
Lucas lays a hand on my shoulder.
“He’ll be OK.”
I look up at him, knowing there is absolutely no basis for that statement, but I appreciate the effort. Maybe he’s just trying to keep me from freaking out and getting both of us killed.
“I know,” I lie in return. “Let’s get to it.”
I take one last look at the store. I hope it isn’t a goodbye.
A gust of cold wind rushes down Steinway and I tuck my chin inside my coat. I tell myself the temperature is the reason my teeth have started chattering and not the fact that I’m increasingly terrified. The cold doesn’t seem to be bothering Lucas who walks with his pea coat open, hands tucked into the pockets.
The stores start to be replaced by more industrial places as we head south. Lucas pulls up outside the gates of Discount Tire Warehouse.
My heart begins pounding so hard I think I may actually pass out. “Is this it?”
“No. But I’m fairly certain we’re close. At least traditionally, this would be the kind of place they would use as their…”
“Hive,” I finish for him. My eyes scan the buildings around me, the few apartments dotting the street.
“Hive?”
“They’re drones. So like bees. They live in a hive.” I’m rambling now, only half paying attention to what I’m saying because I’m trying so hard to feel anything suspicious.
“Tristan?” Lucas stands in front of me, making me look away from scanning the street. I try peeking around him. “Tristan,” he says, louder.
I look up at him. “What? I’m trying to get a read on things.”
“And?”
I lean back against the warehouse gate and close my eyes. I force my mind blank and concentrate on the darkness in front of me, listening, feeling, waiting. There’s a general buzzing, an energy, that I attribute to the fact that we’re in the middle of a big city. There’s always going to be some kind of noise, the residual effect of people passing by or touching things. I could just be feeling the customers who were at the tire warehouse yesterday or humans in apartments a couple of blocks from here.
I open my eyes. “Nothing yet.”
“You’re sure?”
I shrug. “I may not have experience with any of this, but I feel pretty sure that the energy from a whole hive of blood magicians and drones is going to run me over like a freight train. So, no. I definitely do not feel anything yet.”
He nods. “I’m still certain we’re heading the right way.”
“I believe you. I mean, you’re the one who’s done this before.”
“And as that is the case, I must remind you that you must try your best to quiet your own magic until you absolutely need it. The Rippers, having been Seekers themselves, are very skilled readers of auras. Do you think you’ll be able to prevent them from finding you out? We need to wait to announce our arrival until the very last minute.”
Having grown up in a house of very skilled, very powerful Seekers, hiding my own aura is an ability that has saved me from being grounded for life at least a dozen times. My aunt and my grandmother were definitely not aware of many of the things I’ve been doing, thinking, feeling.
“I can guarantee you that that is something I totally know how to do.”
“Good.” His eyes scan the street ahead of us. We’re right on the dividing line between residential and commercial areas. We’re close, even if we’re not close enough to sense it yet. “Ready?” He smiles the world’s saddest smile down at me and we start walking again.
“Tell me the plan again.” I want to visualize it, prepare myself for how I’m going to react. I don’t want my magic to just lash out at things as I get panicked or angry. I want to be in control, to do exactly what I need to do.
“We’ll break in,” Lucas begins. He slows his pace. It’s hard for me to hyperventilate and walk fast at the same time. “I’ll sweep the area ahead of you, eliminating anyone in the way. We’ll need to find you a safe place to get a feel on where everyone is situated.”
“The more powerful Rippers should give off more energy,” I say. “I don’t think it should be too difficult to figure out where they’re hiding.”
“I’m sure.” Something about the way he says it, doesn’t sound right.
“What’s wrong?” Like we can limit it to one thing.
He continues looking ahead of him. Always a good sign when someone won’t look you in the eye.
“You understand that they will not be alone.”
“I didn’t exactly picture a guy sitting on a throne in the middle of a giant empty room,” I say. It is, in fact, exactly what I have been picturing.
“Yes,” he says, “but I know this is all very new to you. I just want to make sure you understand. It can be,” he pauses, “unsettling.” The use of that word is, in and of itself, unsettling.
“Do these things bother you?” I ask. I mean, how can you see people getting slaughtered like I did in that vision, on a regular basis and keep your sanity? The things he’s seen, the things he’s done. Those have to leave a mark somewhere.
He pauses from scanning the street to glance over at me. “On some level,” he answers. “And some things more than others. Seeing weak people who mistakenly followed the Rippers thinking they would transform their lives, destroyed in unspeakable ways. No matter how many times I see it, I can’t help being affected at least a bit.”
“Then how do you keep doing it?”
“Imagine,” he explains, “that there were no Seekers to take on the task of fighting the Rippers. Left on their own, the Rippers could rule the world destroying everyone in their path. They are very single-minded in their pursuit of power, entirely without mercy. Such a world would be uninhabitable. But with the Seekers to take on the task of eliminating at least some of them, the balance between good and evil remains in check.”
“And what if I don’t succeed?”
Lucas drags a hand through his hair. “Then there will be another.”
“Another?”
“Seeker,” he answers without looking at me. “There is always another.”
“Oh.” Of course. I get my throat slit, the Rippers get more powerful, but someone else will get sent out to take my place. Lucas has lived that cycle his entire existence. Some make it. Some don’t. He moves on no matter the outcome. The small part of me that still has real feelings is hurt by that thought, like I could just be wiped out of his memory.
It lasts all of sixty seconds before I’m kicking myself, reminding myself that there are bigger things to worry about than Lucas’ not being devastated by my loss, by his moving forward with someone else after my blood gets spilled.
Lucas stops and looks down at me. “There is always another,” he repeats, “but not for me.”
I pull my eyebrows together. “What? Why?”
“I’m tired, Tristan. Tired of forming attachments, of seeing them win and move on, or fail and...you understand. It’s not a life, really.”
Attachments. Plural. Again, kicking myself. How could I have thought that in a life that long I would be special? Me, who’s shunned every human attachment but the four I’ve had forever.
He’s right, of course. At least I’ve had Nana and Miranda, Nick and Graham. It seems like Lucas has been traveling around alone forever except for the company of Rippers and Seekers. He’s right; it’s not a life. Then what, though? What becomes of a Watcher who doesn’t want to Watch anymore?
“What does that mean?” I ask. “For you. If you don’t want...do you…”
“Die? In a sense. I simply ask not to begin again when this is over. I suppose it’s like a very long, very peaceful sleep.” He laughs. “I could use some rest.”
“But what if...what if I make it?”
He raises his eyebrows, not understanding.
I look down at my feet, not ready to say what’s on the tip of my tongue. “If I make it, couldn’t you...stay?”
Lucas doesn’t answer, doesn’t move, forcing me to see what he’s up to. He stands in front of me, his eyes on mine, his expression unreadable. After a few seconds of silence, he reaches over and lifts my hand, pressing my frozen fingers to his lips. His skin is surprisingly warm.
“Your invitation is the most tempting one I have ever received. My life has been duties, Tristan, doing what I am told, fulfilling my responsibilities. I’ve never given any consideration to what I might want, but if I were to consider my own wishes, then continuing to be by your side would be what I would want above all things.” He squeezes my fingers and lets my hand fall to my side. “Let’s make sure we both survive, then.” The corner of his mouth lifts in a grin. “We’ll see if you still want me nearby once you come into all of the power that awaits once the Rippers are vanquished.”
I open my mouth to say something totally lame and embarrassing when I’m hit by a burst of magic. It makes my head pound and my vision blurs for a second.
“What is it?” Lucas asks back on the job.
“I guess we’re here.” I repel the magic and call on my own.
We are deep in the industrial section now. Both sides of the street are lined with nearly identical square gray buildings with large square windows rising up four stories. The windows are all covered with metal grates like some kind of prison. Who could even work in a place like that?
“Which one?” Lucas asks. He scans all the windows but I know he’s not seeing anything.
I look as well, letting the magic flow out from my core.
“Neither one of these,” I answer. “It’s…” I focus on the sensation the same way a teacher tries to figure out whose bag the cell phone ringing is coming from. “It’s further away. Another block maybe?”
Lucas nods. “Do you feel like they know you’re here?”
The only energy I feel is defensive.
“No. I feel some protection spells and just their general magic. Nothing directed at us.”
“But your own magic is working. Are you sure you’ve masked it?”
Of course not. I just got whacked in the head with a jolt of energy. I didn’t have the forethought to tone down my own. I breathe in, out, in out, centering my energy, containing it. My mind runs back to the grimoire, to the masking spells I’ve learned. I mumble the words, sketching the magical symbols into the air. My fingers glow with golden sparks, like the trail a flashlight leaves in a photo. The spell kicks in. I lift my arm and swing it in a wide arc over Lucas, pulling him into the protection. He blinks at the strength of it, but doesn’t move.
“Sorry,” I apologize. “I’ve never tried that before. I just thought you could use a little shield, too.”
Lucas nods. “All is well now? You’re ready?.”
“No, but that’s not about to stop me. Let’s go, Watcher.”
He bows. “As you say, Seeker.”
We walk the length of the first warehouse sticking close to the wall like they are watching us from somewhere. The truth is, if any watching is being done, I’m sure it’s of a more supernatural kind, a searching for my magic as opposed to looking out a window for the physical me. So that masking spell I just used better be doing its job, because my magic is building with each step.
It seems like the closer I get to the source of danger, the more my power rises up to meet the challenge. It’s practically pushing through the back of my eyes. I think of the way I nearly killed Lucas. That amount of strength is definitely what I’m looking for, but the lack of control, not so much. This isn’t a time for just blindly lashing out, hoping I hit something. This is focus, concentration. I need to hit my target and keep moving.
We jog across the street and I work to visualize the situation the way I do a cross country race. I picture myself under control, in charge, powerful. What I don’t picture are the drones and their blank auras, their empty, nearly white eyes. Most of all, I don’t picture what they were: kids like me.
This street is almost identical to the last but I know for sure it’s not the same. An intense wave of magic whirls down the street wrapping the both of us like a blast of winter wind. I shiver and let it wash harmlessly over me. Lucas’ eyes scan the buildings around us, his eyes hovering over each window.
“Did you feel that?” I ask.
“Not me. I merely felt that you did. What was it?”
“Their defensive magic.” I check out the buildings around us. Down at the next corner, the last building before the entrance to the bridge, each and every window glows with the electric blue of a powerful protection spell. “But there,” I point up ahead. “That’s the one.”
He nods. “We’ll circle the building and look for a way in.”
I roll my eyes. “I’ve seen you break in, Lucas. Locks don’t seem like much of a challenge here.”
“Not at all,” he explains, “but perhaps something less obvious than a door, something without a surveillance camera over it.”
I hadn’t thought about that. It seems like such an ordinary security measure when the Rippers have so much magic at their disposal.
“It is the 21st century, after all. The Rippers will use whatever tools they have at their disposal. Why bother with magic when a simple camera will do? Use your street smarts, Tristan, as well as your magic. They will both serve you well.”
He turns to start moving and I grab him by the coat sleeve. The boy strike started when I was in 8th grade once boys’ hormones started flowing and their auras transformed. I spent most days trying to avoid knowing what they felt about me and the other girls in school. It only got worse as I got older until I decided that they were all disgusting pigs to be avoided at all costs.
Now, with the realization that my life may end at seventeen years nine months, it occurs to me that I may have made a mistake. I may have managed to miss some of the most meaningful moments of my teen years - of my life - good and bad, because I was afraid.
I tug at Lucas and he looks at me over his shoulder, no doubt wondering if I’m too afraid to go on. I am, just not the way he thinks.
“It will be OK, Tristan. No matter what, we’ll be together.”
I blink at him, my heart pounding, my breath short.
I open my mouth and close it again. Lucas turns to face me completely. Before I can chicken out, I grab him by the lapels of his coat and pull him toward me. He’s no lightweight and under normal circumstances, I doubt I could move him. But I’m full of magic right now and way stronger than regular me.
I drag him nearer until our chests are a breath apart. Lucas seems surprised, but not clueless. On paper this seems like a really stupid time to focus on anything but the immediate problem, but what if there is no time left? What if this is it?
Our eyes meet and even without the blood bond between us, he knows what I want. And he obliges, because he wants it, too. Lucas lowers his face to meet mine and our lips touch. It’s nothing crazy, no passionate make out, but it says what I want him to know. Boy strike or no, this is not my first kiss, but this, I tell him without words, is the first one that counts. The first. The last.
Magic tugs at me and I reluctantly break away. Lucas presses his forehead against mine.
“That is certainly an excellent motivation to continue along my present path,” he whispers.
“Likewise,” I answer. Every bit of me tingles, but I’m not entirely sure it’s the result of magic.
Lucas stands up straight again.
I nod and we resume our sneak attack on the hive.
Like all the others, this building is four floors, square, gray, rows of windows covered in metal grates. Unlike the others, each of these windows is practically vibrating with magic. The main entrance, the one that would normally be used for employees, is covered by a surveillance camera, just as Lucas predicted. We jump into the middle of the street to stay out of its line of sight and hurry past.
“There,” Lucas says, gesturing toward a window at ground level. The gate isn’t closed all the way, the frame propped open.
My mind turns to its true crime encyclopedia.
“Too obvious,” I tell him.
He frowns. “You’re certain?”
“No, but come on. It seems way too easy, like they’re just waiting for us.”
“And?” he asks. “Are they?”
Right. Magic.
I close my eyes and zoom in on the window. I don’t see anyone, but I do feel a heavy concentration of energy. Either there are a lot Rippers right there, or they are protecting something important.
“Something is definitely up. We should keep moving.”
So we do, scanning every inch of the building until I come up with an idea.
“How high would you say that second floor is?” I ask.
“Twenty feet give or take,” Lucas answers. “Why?”
“Everyone has to enter from the first floor,” I say. “They won’t be looking for us to come in by the second.”
Lucas nods. “You’re sure you’re up to the climb?” he asks.
“I guess we’ll find out.”
We choose a window at the corner, one that has a drain pipe running along the outside. I have a fair amount of experience sneaking in and out of places in the dark. With the amount of power I’ve got running through me right now, it should be even easier.
A car rolls by setting my heart pounding even harder. I assume a sedan full of Ripper reinforcements have arrived to gut us, but the driver only seems to be taking a shortcut to the bridge. He keeps moving and disappears over the hill.
“I’ll go up first, open the window, and get a look at what’s going on inside. You’re sure you can make it up?”
“I got this,” I assure him.
Lucas takes a running leap that gains him a few feet and grabs the pipe. He climbs up easily, hand over hand, and swings into the deep window ledge. After fiddling with the gate for a few seconds, it swings open. He pushes up the window and disappears into the darkness inside. When he doesn’t emerge again after a minute or two, I start worrying and eye the pipe. I’m not going to wait around down here forever. I make a move and his head appears in the opening. He gestures and I trot to the building.
The drain pipe is practically made for climbing with metal straps that attach it to the building every foot or so. I hop up onto the first one and pull myself up with the second, continuing hand over hand until I’m parallel with the window. It is way easier than escaping from my own room. Lucas reaches out both hands and I grab one, then the other, bracing my foot on the ledge and pushing myself through.
The inside of the building is even grayer and less impressive than the outside. Columns, hanging wires, a huge empty space. I look at Lucas to see if he’s thinking the same thing I am, that this is exactly like the last place he hunted for Rippers. That’s when I notice he has a blade in each hand.
On the concrete floor in front of him, two drones, both female, lie in a puddle of their own blood. It’s still flowing from the wounds in their necks, the nearly black liquid slowly rolling toward my feet. I step to the side and squeeze my hands into fists, getting control of the panic I feel welling up.
Lucas points to the right and starts moving. A long swath of pink light stretches across the floor, the sun finally started to rise. I focus on the soft color, the pale tone I normally associate with the beginning of love in one of our customers. It seems like a million years since I was that person, that Seeker and her simple matchmaking spells.
“There’s an office up ahead. Empty. I want to move that way to give you time to get a feel for what’s going on in here.”
I nod and follow. It seems awfully quiet for a hive. Where are the dozens of drones, the workers? Somewhere in the distance there’s noise. The guy I channeled in the shop had had coffee, but I assumed that drones didn’t need to eat, that his ordering was just for show. This sound is surprising, then, the sound of dishes clattering and people talking. The impression is more like a school cafeteria than a nest of killers.
The magic coming from the same direction is fairly weak. It is a secondhand sort of energy, the magic of someone who has been provided with exactly what they need to do a specific task - like guard the hive or kill a Watcher.
“That’s nothing,” I tell Lucas, waving it away. “I mean it’s something. There are,” I concentrate on the individuals, “a lot of them? Fairly a lot. But it’s just the drones. They don’t seem to have the kind of magic that allows them to initiate anything big. Their magic has been provided to let them do their jobs.”
“In that case, our best course of action would be to avoid them. We can’t take on everyone without causing a tremendous disturbance that is sure to get you noticed. Can you find who we’re looking for?”
The big guy. The killer. Ripper #1.
“I’ll try.”
I stare at the pink on the floor. It’s transitioning now, deepening, turning more golden like the fully risen sun. It occurs to me that this will be the first day in weeks that the sky isn’t a lifeless sheet of gray. Magic begins taking shape in front of me. As always, it is dark. The blackest black. It is a place devoid of...I grasp for the word. Goodness. It is a place without love or light or hope. It is despair in a tangible form.
But at the same time that I’m wrestling with unwrapping the tangle of negativity twining around my brain, I’m aware of something else. It is a wide array of emotion, most of it negative, but not all. And it is color.
I frown. This is the first time I’ve sensed an aura in the presence of drones and Rippers, other than the pure velvety midnight shades they try to throw my way. Maybe I’m just picking up on something nearby.
But this is Sunday and there is nothing, and pretty much no one, nearby. I try again anyway, thinking I’m wrong, that the intense magic and dark energy in here is just messing with me.
And then I feel it again, an absolute rainbow of feelings both good and bad. And it is coming from somewhere in this building.
Not knowing what else to do, Miranda fills me with tea and scones while Lucas briefs me on the details of what we’re stepping into. Step one, apparently, is tracking down the hive as I’ve decided it’s called. Step two is doing my best to suppress the way my magic calls out. Surprise is a plus, so announcing myself like a marching band is out. After that, we wind our way through the hideout like ninjas, Lucas slashing throats, me backing him up. The sticky part, the one where I might end up dead on a warehouse floor, is handling the big boss, and that is something only I can do.
“It sounds cliché, but you will need to summon all of your courage, your confidence, and your most powerful magic, channeling it all into your core. If you waver for even a second, the Ripper will find your weakness and destroy you.”
“And you?” I ask, wondering just how many people are going to die today.
“Me as well. But that is my responsibility, after all.”
“Your responsibilities suck,” I note.
He laughs. “Yes, they do. But neither one of us seems able to escape our fates.”
I look at Lucas who, for the most part, appears to be just a regular guy about my age. If I were to allow myself to stop pretending I’m not interested in any of the humans, especially guys, I would admit that he is attractive, physically and otherwise. We may have started out rough with the lying and all, but Lucas has been by my side awaiting his fate - his death - with courage and resignation. His job is to lay down his life for me, a stranger, and he will do that job to the very end. He will protect me for the greater good and because it is what is expected. How many people are actually that selfless? It’s like he really is from another time.
He catches me looking at him. “Something wrong?”
Warmth spreads out across my face but I try not to look away. “Everything,” I answer. “But...just...thank you. Thank you for being here with me, for seeing it through. I know I’m not the easiest and you are only doing this because you have to, but still, don’t think it doesn’t make me feel better to have you around.”
He looks down at me without speaking until I start to feel like an idiot.
“It’s true that this is my assignment,” he says, “but know that if I were released from my bond today, I would remain by your side, all the way to the end. No matter the outcome.”
I’m sure I know what my aura must look like. Good thing Lucas can’t read it.
He steps closer until only there is barely a blade width between us.
“But let’s try not to die, shall we?”
I clear my throat. “Righty-oh.” Seriously? “Let’s go,” I make a swinging motion, “lop off some heads.”
Lucas waits a beat before grinning. “Indeed.”
I head for the door but as I’m about to step through, I’m jerked backward. Lucas is pulling on the hem of my sweatshirt. “You are going to be careful, aren’t you?”
“I have no idea what I’m doing, Lucas. I’m not sure how careful I can be.”
He wipes a hand across his mouth and I find myself wondering if he’s nervous. How can a Watcher be nervous? Then I remember how things went down last time. How can he not be nervous?
“I’ll be focused. Brave without being stupid.”
He’s waiting for something. I can see it in his eyes.
“I won’t ditch you.”
He looks at me, questioning my truthfulness.
“Good,” he says. He drops my shirt.
Before leaving, I decide to look in on Nana, to see if anything is better - or worse. Graham sits in the arm chair, a steaming mug of tea in his hand, watching. It’s like he’s waiting for an egg to hatch.
“Where’s Miranda?” I ask.
“She had to run the shop. I’ve been given strict instructions to stay here and report on any changes.”
“And have there been - any changes?”
He smiles a half smile. “I’m afraid not. And what of you, Tristan? Off to slay the dragon, eh?”
“That’s a real kick in the ass, isn’t it? I’m the one who’s going to save this family.”
Graham stands up to his very impressive model height and takes my hand. “There is truly no one better for the job. We have every faith in you.”
People keep saying that. I wish I felt as sure. I’ve never done a single thing I would categorize as brave. There’s just as much chance I’ll wet my pants and run as actually kill someone.
I glance down at Nana. When I was barely a year old, she took me in without question and raised me more like a daughter than a granddaughter. She did her best to protect me from what I am, no doubt hoping it wouldn’t be necessary to ever let me in on how powerful I really am. I can’t let her down. Or Miranda or Graham and certainly not Nick.
I shrug and offer him the weakest of smiles. “I’ll do what I can. And Graham?”
He raises his eyebrows.
“Take care of Miranda, OK? You know in case…”
“Always.”
I turn to Lucas. “Let’s go, Killer.”
Lucas and Graham exchange a look and Graham whispers something I can’t hear but which I assume is along the lines of, “Don’t let her die.”
I feel like I’m saying goodbye to everyone. Might as well say goodbye to Miranda.
I find her in the dining room being extra crabby, snatching cash, slamming drawers. It’s amazing anyone even comes in here.
I step up behind her and she jumps, which is odd since she can read my aura even though she tries not to.
She lifts her perfectly shaped eyebrows. “We’ll talk about what he was doing in your room last night when you get back.” It’s her version of “I love you. Don’t die.”
I roll my eyes. “Can’t wait.”
It’s the only words we have for now, the only ones we need.
Lucas hands me my coat. I tug it on, zip up, and the two of us head out into the street.
“You’re all right?” he asks.
“Never better.” I’m about thirty seconds from passing out or throwing up. “So where do you think we should head?” A bus passes by spraying icy slush onto the sidewalk. “Will this require public transportation? Because I don’t have my Metrocard.”
He laughs. “No. No mass transit.”
I shove my hands down into my pockets to keep them from shaking. “Good. I would hate to be late.”
“As I told you earlier, they usually choose a place that’s both out of the way and in the midst of the action.”
Steinway Street is definitely “the midst of the action,” with stores, and restaurants, and clubs lining both sides of the street. Even today, a freezing Sunday, the place will be swarming with humans once the sun is fully up and stores are open. People will pour in and out of the subway, passing the stores I know inside out. It’s early in the day, the sun hiding behind the gray February sky. It smells like snow. Most places are still closed waiting late risers and Sunday shoppers.
We reach Nick’s family’s restaurant, La Cocina Mexicana, a place I’ve spent as much time in as my own house. When we were little, we’d sit at one of the plastic covered tables with its tea light and vase with two silk flowers, eating très leches cake or stand on the little step stool working the register, collecting extra big tips from people who thought we were adorable. I can’t even begin to think about a life without Nick or, maybe even worse, one in which he is a soulless drone, drained of his blood, of his essence.
Lucas lays a hand on my shoulder.
“He’ll be OK.”
I look up at him, knowing there is absolutely no basis for that statement, but I appreciate the effort. Maybe he’s just trying to keep me from freaking out and getting both of us killed.
“I know,” I lie in return. “Let’s get to it.”
I take one last look at the store. I hope it isn’t a goodbye.
A gust of cold wind rushes down Steinway and I tuck my chin inside my coat. I tell myself the temperature is the reason my teeth have started chattering and not the fact that I’m increasingly terrified. The cold doesn’t seem to be bothering Lucas who walks with his pea coat open, hands tucked into the pockets.
The stores start to be replaced by more industrial places as we head south. Lucas pulls up outside the gates of Discount Tire Warehouse.
My heart begins pounding so hard I think I may actually pass out. “Is this it?”
“No. But I’m fairly certain we’re close. At least traditionally, this would be the kind of place they would use as their…”
“Hive,” I finish for him. My eyes scan the buildings around me, the few apartments dotting the street.
“Hive?”
“They’re drones. So like bees. They live in a hive.” I’m rambling now, only half paying attention to what I’m saying because I’m trying so hard to feel anything suspicious.
“Tristan?” Lucas stands in front of me, making me look away from scanning the street. I try peeking around him. “Tristan,” he says, louder.
I look up at him. “What? I’m trying to get a read on things.”
“And?”
I lean back against the warehouse gate and close my eyes. I force my mind blank and concentrate on the darkness in front of me, listening, feeling, waiting. There’s a general buzzing, an energy, that I attribute to the fact that we’re in the middle of a big city. There’s always going to be some kind of noise, the residual effect of people passing by or touching things. I could just be feeling the customers who were at the tire warehouse yesterday or humans in apartments a couple of blocks from here.
I open my eyes. “Nothing yet.”
“You’re sure?”
I shrug. “I may not have experience with any of this, but I feel pretty sure that the energy from a whole hive of blood magicians and drones is going to run me over like a freight train. So, no. I definitely do not feel anything yet.”
He nods. “I’m still certain we’re heading the right way.”
“I believe you. I mean, you’re the one who’s done this before.”
“And as that is the case, I must remind you that you must try your best to quiet your own magic until you absolutely need it. The Rippers, having been Seekers themselves, are very skilled readers of auras. Do you think you’ll be able to prevent them from finding you out? We need to wait to announce our arrival until the very last minute.”
Having grown up in a house of very skilled, very powerful Seekers, hiding my own aura is an ability that has saved me from being grounded for life at least a dozen times. My aunt and my grandmother were definitely not aware of many of the things I’ve been doing, thinking, feeling.
“I can guarantee you that that is something I totally know how to do.”
“Good.” His eyes scan the street ahead of us. We’re right on the dividing line between residential and commercial areas. We’re close, even if we’re not close enough to sense it yet. “Ready?” He smiles the world’s saddest smile down at me and we start walking again.
“Tell me the plan again.” I want to visualize it, prepare myself for how I’m going to react. I don’t want my magic to just lash out at things as I get panicked or angry. I want to be in control, to do exactly what I need to do.
“We’ll break in,” Lucas begins. He slows his pace. It’s hard for me to hyperventilate and walk fast at the same time. “I’ll sweep the area ahead of you, eliminating anyone in the way. We’ll need to find you a safe place to get a feel on where everyone is situated.”
“The more powerful Rippers should give off more energy,” I say. “I don’t think it should be too difficult to figure out where they’re hiding.”
“I’m sure.” Something about the way he says it, doesn’t sound right.
“What’s wrong?” Like we can limit it to one thing.
He continues looking ahead of him. Always a good sign when someone won’t look you in the eye.
“You understand that they will not be alone.”
“I didn’t exactly picture a guy sitting on a throne in the middle of a giant empty room,” I say. It is, in fact, exactly what I have been picturing.
“Yes,” he says, “but I know this is all very new to you. I just want to make sure you understand. It can be,” he pauses, “unsettling.” The use of that word is, in and of itself, unsettling.
“Do these things bother you?” I ask. I mean, how can you see people getting slaughtered like I did in that vision, on a regular basis and keep your sanity? The things he’s seen, the things he’s done. Those have to leave a mark somewhere.
He pauses from scanning the street to glance over at me. “On some level,” he answers. “And some things more than others. Seeing weak people who mistakenly followed the Rippers thinking they would transform their lives, destroyed in unspeakable ways. No matter how many times I see it, I can’t help being affected at least a bit.”
“Then how do you keep doing it?”
“Imagine,” he explains, “that there were no Seekers to take on the task of fighting the Rippers. Left on their own, the Rippers could rule the world destroying everyone in their path. They are very single-minded in their pursuit of power, entirely without mercy. Such a world would be uninhabitable. But with the Seekers to take on the task of eliminating at least some of them, the balance between good and evil remains in check.”
“And what if I don’t succeed?”
Lucas drags a hand through his hair. “Then there will be another.”
“Another?”
“Seeker,” he answers without looking at me. “There is always another.”
“Oh.” Of course. I get my throat slit, the Rippers get more powerful, but someone else will get sent out to take my place. Lucas has lived that cycle his entire existence. Some make it. Some don’t. He moves on no matter the outcome. The small part of me that still has real feelings is hurt by that thought, like I could just be wiped out of his memory.
It lasts all of sixty seconds before I’m kicking myself, reminding myself that there are bigger things to worry about than Lucas’ not being devastated by my loss, by his moving forward with someone else after my blood gets spilled.
Lucas stops and looks down at me. “There is always another,” he repeats, “but not for me.”
I pull my eyebrows together. “What? Why?”
“I’m tired, Tristan. Tired of forming attachments, of seeing them win and move on, or fail and...you understand. It’s not a life, really.”
Attachments. Plural. Again, kicking myself. How could I have thought that in a life that long I would be special? Me, who’s shunned every human attachment but the four I’ve had forever.
He’s right, of course. At least I’ve had Nana and Miranda, Nick and Graham. It seems like Lucas has been traveling around alone forever except for the company of Rippers and Seekers. He’s right; it’s not a life. Then what, though? What becomes of a Watcher who doesn’t want to Watch anymore?
“What does that mean?” I ask. “For you. If you don’t want...do you…”
“Die? In a sense. I simply ask not to begin again when this is over. I suppose it’s like a very long, very peaceful sleep.” He laughs. “I could use some rest.”
“But what if...what if I make it?”
He raises his eyebrows, not understanding.
I look down at my feet, not ready to say what’s on the tip of my tongue. “If I make it, couldn’t you...stay?”
Lucas doesn’t answer, doesn’t move, forcing me to see what he’s up to. He stands in front of me, his eyes on mine, his expression unreadable. After a few seconds of silence, he reaches over and lifts my hand, pressing my frozen fingers to his lips. His skin is surprisingly warm.
“Your invitation is the most tempting one I have ever received. My life has been duties, Tristan, doing what I am told, fulfilling my responsibilities. I’ve never given any consideration to what I might want, but if I were to consider my own wishes, then continuing to be by your side would be what I would want above all things.” He squeezes my fingers and lets my hand fall to my side. “Let’s make sure we both survive, then.” The corner of his mouth lifts in a grin. “We’ll see if you still want me nearby once you come into all of the power that awaits once the Rippers are vanquished.”
I open my mouth to say something totally lame and embarrassing when I’m hit by a burst of magic. It makes my head pound and my vision blurs for a second.
“What is it?” Lucas asks back on the job.
“I guess we’re here.” I repel the magic and call on my own.
We are deep in the industrial section now. Both sides of the street are lined with nearly identical square gray buildings with large square windows rising up four stories. The windows are all covered with metal grates like some kind of prison. Who could even work in a place like that?
“Which one?” Lucas asks. He scans all the windows but I know he’s not seeing anything.
I look as well, letting the magic flow out from my core.
“Neither one of these,” I answer. “It’s…” I focus on the sensation the same way a teacher tries to figure out whose bag the cell phone ringing is coming from. “It’s further away. Another block maybe?”
Lucas nods. “Do you feel like they know you’re here?”
The only energy I feel is defensive.
“No. I feel some protection spells and just their general magic. Nothing directed at us.”
“But your own magic is working. Are you sure you’ve masked it?”
Of course not. I just got whacked in the head with a jolt of energy. I didn’t have the forethought to tone down my own. I breathe in, out, in out, centering my energy, containing it. My mind runs back to the grimoire, to the masking spells I’ve learned. I mumble the words, sketching the magical symbols into the air. My fingers glow with golden sparks, like the trail a flashlight leaves in a photo. The spell kicks in. I lift my arm and swing it in a wide arc over Lucas, pulling him into the protection. He blinks at the strength of it, but doesn’t move.
“Sorry,” I apologize. “I’ve never tried that before. I just thought you could use a little shield, too.”
Lucas nods. “All is well now? You’re ready?.”
“No, but that’s not about to stop me. Let’s go, Watcher.”
He bows. “As you say, Seeker.”
We walk the length of the first warehouse sticking close to the wall like they are watching us from somewhere. The truth is, if any watching is being done, I’m sure it’s of a more supernatural kind, a searching for my magic as opposed to looking out a window for the physical me. So that masking spell I just used better be doing its job, because my magic is building with each step.
It seems like the closer I get to the source of danger, the more my power rises up to meet the challenge. It’s practically pushing through the back of my eyes. I think of the way I nearly killed Lucas. That amount of strength is definitely what I’m looking for, but the lack of control, not so much. This isn’t a time for just blindly lashing out, hoping I hit something. This is focus, concentration. I need to hit my target and keep moving.
We jog across the street and I work to visualize the situation the way I do a cross country race. I picture myself under control, in charge, powerful. What I don’t picture are the drones and their blank auras, their empty, nearly white eyes. Most of all, I don’t picture what they were: kids like me.
This street is almost identical to the last but I know for sure it’s not the same. An intense wave of magic whirls down the street wrapping the both of us like a blast of winter wind. I shiver and let it wash harmlessly over me. Lucas’ eyes scan the buildings around us, his eyes hovering over each window.
“Did you feel that?” I ask.
“Not me. I merely felt that you did. What was it?”
“Their defensive magic.” I check out the buildings around us. Down at the next corner, the last building before the entrance to the bridge, each and every window glows with the electric blue of a powerful protection spell. “But there,” I point up ahead. “That’s the one.”
He nods. “We’ll circle the building and look for a way in.”
I roll my eyes. “I’ve seen you break in, Lucas. Locks don’t seem like much of a challenge here.”
“Not at all,” he explains, “but perhaps something less obvious than a door, something without a surveillance camera over it.”
I hadn’t thought about that. It seems like such an ordinary security measure when the Rippers have so much magic at their disposal.
“It is the 21st century, after all. The Rippers will use whatever tools they have at their disposal. Why bother with magic when a simple camera will do? Use your street smarts, Tristan, as well as your magic. They will both serve you well.”
He turns to start moving and I grab him by the coat sleeve. The boy strike started when I was in 8th grade once boys’ hormones started flowing and their auras transformed. I spent most days trying to avoid knowing what they felt about me and the other girls in school. It only got worse as I got older until I decided that they were all disgusting pigs to be avoided at all costs.
Now, with the realization that my life may end at seventeen years nine months, it occurs to me that I may have made a mistake. I may have managed to miss some of the most meaningful moments of my teen years - of my life - good and bad, because I was afraid.
I tug at Lucas and he looks at me over his shoulder, no doubt wondering if I’m too afraid to go on. I am, just not the way he thinks.
“It will be OK, Tristan. No matter what, we’ll be together.”
I blink at him, my heart pounding, my breath short.
I open my mouth and close it again. Lucas turns to face me completely. Before I can chicken out, I grab him by the lapels of his coat and pull him toward me. He’s no lightweight and under normal circumstances, I doubt I could move him. But I’m full of magic right now and way stronger than regular me.
I drag him nearer until our chests are a breath apart. Lucas seems surprised, but not clueless. On paper this seems like a really stupid time to focus on anything but the immediate problem, but what if there is no time left? What if this is it?
Our eyes meet and even without the blood bond between us, he knows what I want. And he obliges, because he wants it, too. Lucas lowers his face to meet mine and our lips touch. It’s nothing crazy, no passionate make out, but it says what I want him to know. Boy strike or no, this is not my first kiss, but this, I tell him without words, is the first one that counts. The first. The last.
Magic tugs at me and I reluctantly break away. Lucas presses his forehead against mine.
“That is certainly an excellent motivation to continue along my present path,” he whispers.
“Likewise,” I answer. Every bit of me tingles, but I’m not entirely sure it’s the result of magic.
Lucas stands up straight again.
I nod and we resume our sneak attack on the hive.
Like all the others, this building is four floors, square, gray, rows of windows covered in metal grates. Unlike the others, each of these windows is practically vibrating with magic. The main entrance, the one that would normally be used for employees, is covered by a surveillance camera, just as Lucas predicted. We jump into the middle of the street to stay out of its line of sight and hurry past.
“There,” Lucas says, gesturing toward a window at ground level. The gate isn’t closed all the way, the frame propped open.
My mind turns to its true crime encyclopedia.
“Too obvious,” I tell him.
He frowns. “You’re certain?”
“No, but come on. It seems way too easy, like they’re just waiting for us.”
“And?” he asks. “Are they?”
Right. Magic.
I close my eyes and zoom in on the window. I don’t see anyone, but I do feel a heavy concentration of energy. Either there are a lot Rippers right there, or they are protecting something important.
“Something is definitely up. We should keep moving.”
So we do, scanning every inch of the building until I come up with an idea.
“How high would you say that second floor is?” I ask.
“Twenty feet give or take,” Lucas answers. “Why?”
“Everyone has to enter from the first floor,” I say. “They won’t be looking for us to come in by the second.”
Lucas nods. “You’re sure you’re up to the climb?” he asks.
“I guess we’ll find out.”
We choose a window at the corner, one that has a drain pipe running along the outside. I have a fair amount of experience sneaking in and out of places in the dark. With the amount of power I’ve got running through me right now, it should be even easier.
A car rolls by setting my heart pounding even harder. I assume a sedan full of Ripper reinforcements have arrived to gut us, but the driver only seems to be taking a shortcut to the bridge. He keeps moving and disappears over the hill.
“I’ll go up first, open the window, and get a look at what’s going on inside. You’re sure you can make it up?”
“I got this,” I assure him.
Lucas takes a running leap that gains him a few feet and grabs the pipe. He climbs up easily, hand over hand, and swings into the deep window ledge. After fiddling with the gate for a few seconds, it swings open. He pushes up the window and disappears into the darkness inside. When he doesn’t emerge again after a minute or two, I start worrying and eye the pipe. I’m not going to wait around down here forever. I make a move and his head appears in the opening. He gestures and I trot to the building.
The drain pipe is practically made for climbing with metal straps that attach it to the building every foot or so. I hop up onto the first one and pull myself up with the second, continuing hand over hand until I’m parallel with the window. It is way easier than escaping from my own room. Lucas reaches out both hands and I grab one, then the other, bracing my foot on the ledge and pushing myself through.
The inside of the building is even grayer and less impressive than the outside. Columns, hanging wires, a huge empty space. I look at Lucas to see if he’s thinking the same thing I am, that this is exactly like the last place he hunted for Rippers. That’s when I notice he has a blade in each hand.
On the concrete floor in front of him, two drones, both female, lie in a puddle of their own blood. It’s still flowing from the wounds in their necks, the nearly black liquid slowly rolling toward my feet. I step to the side and squeeze my hands into fists, getting control of the panic I feel welling up.
Lucas points to the right and starts moving. A long swath of pink light stretches across the floor, the sun finally started to rise. I focus on the soft color, the pale tone I normally associate with the beginning of love in one of our customers. It seems like a million years since I was that person, that Seeker and her simple matchmaking spells.
“There’s an office up ahead. Empty. I want to move that way to give you time to get a feel for what’s going on in here.”
I nod and follow. It seems awfully quiet for a hive. Where are the dozens of drones, the workers? Somewhere in the distance there’s noise. The guy I channeled in the shop had had coffee, but I assumed that drones didn’t need to eat, that his ordering was just for show. This sound is surprising, then, the sound of dishes clattering and people talking. The impression is more like a school cafeteria than a nest of killers.
The magic coming from the same direction is fairly weak. It is a secondhand sort of energy, the magic of someone who has been provided with exactly what they need to do a specific task - like guard the hive or kill a Watcher.
“That’s nothing,” I tell Lucas, waving it away. “I mean it’s something. There are,” I concentrate on the individuals, “a lot of them? Fairly a lot. But it’s just the drones. They don’t seem to have the kind of magic that allows them to initiate anything big. Their magic has been provided to let them do their jobs.”
“In that case, our best course of action would be to avoid them. We can’t take on everyone without causing a tremendous disturbance that is sure to get you noticed. Can you find who we’re looking for?”
The big guy. The killer. Ripper #1.
“I’ll try.”
I stare at the pink on the floor. It’s transitioning now, deepening, turning more golden like the fully risen sun. It occurs to me that this will be the first day in weeks that the sky isn’t a lifeless sheet of gray. Magic begins taking shape in front of me. As always, it is dark. The blackest black. It is a place devoid of...I grasp for the word. Goodness. It is a place without love or light or hope. It is despair in a tangible form.
But at the same time that I’m wrestling with unwrapping the tangle of negativity twining around my brain, I’m aware of something else. It is a wide array of emotion, most of it negative, but not all. And it is color.
I frown. This is the first time I’ve sensed an aura in the presence of drones and Rippers, other than the pure velvety midnight shades they try to throw my way. Maybe I’m just picking up on something nearby.
But this is Sunday and there is nothing, and pretty much no one, nearby. I try again anyway, thinking I’m wrong, that the intense magic and dark energy in here is just messing with me.
And then I feel it again, an absolute rainbow of feelings both good and bad. And it is coming from somewhere in this building.
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