Rare Vigilance (Whitethorn Agency)

“What are you going to do?” he asked.

“Prove to Father that the creatures hunting here are strigoi. Stop anyone else from getting hurt.” Cristian gave him a bemused look. “What else could I do, Mr. Kinkaid?”

He worried Cristian wanted him to respond, but the man was unbuckled and exiting the car before he could find any words. Atlas accepted the bag Cristian offered him and followed him toward the warehouse, still lost in thought. He needed to escape the Wharrams’ clutches for good. He needed to ensure Cristian and Bea would be safe from them, no matter the cost.

The door cracked when Cristian neared, and he smiled when he saw Nell peering out at them. She looked cleaner than the last time Atlas had seen her, and smelled much better. Her hair was pulled back from her face in a series of intricate braids that joined together into a soft plait resting over her shoulder.

“Artie? Is that you?” she asked Cristian.

“Artie?” Atlas whispered.

Cristian hushed him before saying to Nell, “Who else would it be?”

“You hadn’t come in so long... I was worried,” Nell said.

“I’m fine. Promise.” Cristian smiled and pointed to her hair. “That’s lovely. Who did it?”

Nell preened, running her fingers over the plait. “Peggy. She said we shouldn’t put off washing it for so long next time.”

“

I agree,” Cristian said easily. “I know you’re most comfortable with her, but don’t forget everyone else who’s willing to help.”

Atlas swallowed against the lump growing in his throat. The way Nell nodded and stroked her hair reminded him of his grandmother. He’d never forget her pleasure when the assisted living facility’s hairdresser stopped by for rare appointments, or when Bea would have a free afternoon from work to come in to wash and dry her hair. Peggy, whoever she was, took the same loving care of Nell as Bea had with his grandmother. Cristian gave a teasing tug of the plait, which was as gentle as his smile. “We want to take care of you.”

“Best prove it then. Did you bring the good stuff?” she asked him.

“Of course,” he said, lifting his bag a little higher. “And Mr. Kinkaid has the rest.”

“Mr. Kinkaid?” Nell asked, eyeing Atlas nervously.

“I’ve told you about him before,” Cristian soothed. “Remember? Atlas?”

The name rang a bell. Nell lit up and swung the door open widely. “Oh, this is Atlas. Oh, Artie, you were right. He is a pretty one.”

The back of Cristian’s neck went pink. Atlas was positive he was blushing too, though he prayed Cristian wouldn’t notice.

“Evening, ma’am,” Atlas murmured to the older woman as he and Cristian slid past her into the building. The halls were dark thanks to the boarded windows and Atlas swore when he bumped into something with his foot.

“Atlas?” Cristian asked, somewhere to his right.

“Give me a sec,” he bit out. “Light transitions give me trouble.”

“Shit, sorry. I forgot you wouldn’t see as well,” Cristian said. “Close your eyes?”

Atlas obeyed. Even through his eyelids, he could tell when Cristian turned on his phone flashlight, illuminating the area. Cristian waited patiently while Atlas tried to adjust. Eventually, he cracked open his eyes and slowly began processing what he could see within the circle of light, as well as in the gloom beyond.

“Is this okay?” Cristian asked. Nell stood off to the side, watching their interaction with interest.

“Yeah. Tilt it down?” The pain of the flashlight faded a little as Cristian obeyed. Atlas took another moment for rough shapes to appear in the darkness around them before asking, “And off?”

It still took longer than he wanted to see once the flashlight went out completely. Fortunately, Cristian had been cautious in following his directions, so the rough shapes around them took on more detail and form as the seconds ticked by. The interior was surprisingly clean in comparison to the outer facade. Atlas had hit a cardboard box, one of a small stack near the door. They weren’t dumped there, but carefully arranged to form a strange kind of wall. A blockade of some kind?

“For the sun,” Cristian told him. “Helps keep it out of the inner halls in case something happens here in the front and they have to get out through the back.”

“Oh. There’s an exit in the back?” Atlas asked as they followed Nell farther into the building. Interior walls were repaired with anything solid and light-blocking that could be found. There were other people living here, most of them waving or calling greetings to Cristian as he passed. Atlas wondered how long Cristian had been coming here to earn such a warm welcome.

“Leads down into the sewers. No real way out of there, but at least it’s safe from the sun,” Cristian said.