“This sucks,” Mason said, sulking. He was a little more mature than Asher on a general level, but he clearly didn’t like the idea of being left out, either.
“You guys keep warning us about forces that want to kidnap us to abuse our powers and shit, but you know we can handle that.” He folded his arms across his chest and raised his nose. “You both know that we’re tough enough to beat the hell out of anything that tries.”
“Absolutely not,” I said, ushering them to the sidewalk as the rideshare’s location shifted on the little map on my phone. “You talk a big game, but if an angel or an entity comes knocking – hell, if a demon prince does? You’re both screwed. That’s not something I’m going to allow.”
Mason scoffed. “So weak.”
“Super weak,” Asher mumbled.
Sterling lit a cigarette as he nudged me in the ribs. “Parenting, am I right?”
I glared at him and hissed. “I thought we were past that.” I cleared my throat. “If the two of you behave and head straight home, you’re top of the list for the friends I can take with me to Happy, Inc.”
Asher’s mouth opened wide. Mason’s lip stayed upturned, but I caught the faintest glimmer of excitement in the back of his eyes. Aha. See? They were just kids, after all. I mean, sure, I understood exactly why they were so stir crazy, but better to have them locked up and supervised back at the Boneyard than totally vulnerable out in Valero. As for the fourth guest I was taking to Happy HQ? Well, that’s obvious, isn’t it?
“I suppose I’m not going with you then,” Sterling said as we watched Asher and Mason’s rideshare turn the corner.
“Don’t act so maudlin, I know you’re not that interested. Plus the tour happens during the day.”
“Also, you’ve clearly reserved the last spot for your lovely little boyfriend.”
I thrust my chest out. “Of course I have. Food is one of the building blocks of our relationship. Even if it is trashy fast food.”
“Right, right,” Sterling said, gesturing for me to walk faster as we headed to the bar. “So it’ll be Asher Mayhew, his new best friend Mason, and Mason’s two daddies.”
I glowered at him. “I thought I said we were over this daddy thing.” Then I grinned. “You aren’t jealous, are you? Of this whole Mason thing?”
It was Sterling’s turn to glower back. He stomped down the sidewalk, the last of his cigarette burning ominously as he puffed it to death. “Why should I be jealous that the two of them are getting along so well? It’s good for Mayhew to hang out with someone his age. That doesn’t take anything away from me.” He spat his dying cigarette butt onto the sidewalk, then thrust both hands deep inside his jacket pockets. “I’m. Not. Jealous. Now shut up about it. I’m not bothered, I don’t see why you are.”
Struck a nerve there. “Whoa. Okay, man. I was only teasing. Geez.” I raised my hands. “Let’s just get to Temple, okay? Herald texted, said he was already there.”
I’d been to Temple, once, while I was still working as a Hound for the Lorica. On busier nights it was a noisy-as-hell nightclub, the kind of place where outrageously attractive people danced the night away while their bodies ran on dangerous levels of alcohol, amphetamines, or both. But we were going on a Tuesday, which was reserved for playing the sadder, more low-key spectrum of electronic music. It was neutral ground for the Boneyard and the Lorica, someplace we could talk, as Sterling suggested.
In truth, I knew that he named the place specifically because he was looking to feed. But unless the blood being sucked out of a given neck belonged to me, that was none of my business.
And true to Tuesday’s theme, Temple did seem pretty tame, at least judging from the lack of long lines to get into the club, or even the deep, pulsing thump of electronic dance music you’d usually sense from half a block away. That night, all they had at the entrance was one bouncer. Not even a velvet rope.
“I’ll take this,” Sterling said of the cover charge as he nodded at, then swept past the bouncer. Good old weirdly generous Sterling.
“Thanks, man,” I called after him, nodding at the big, burly bouncer myself. He grunted and nodded back, and I passed through the darkened anteroom leading into Temple proper without incident.
Well, not quite. All I heard was a dull thud, like something making a small, brief impact with wood. I started at the sound, looked around myself, and found the faint sheen of metal in the gloom, just at eye level.
There it was, stuck in a doorframe: a knife. It was pinning a sheet of paper to the wood.
I spun on my heels, ready to dive into the shadows at the first sign of danger. My heartbeat seemed to match the faint pulse of Temple’s somber Tuesday electronica. I reached for the slip of paper, my blood running cold as I read the message scrawled across it, as I recognized the exact design of the knife stabbed into the doorframe.
Was Donovan Slint still at large?
Chapter 3
“Has to be him,” I said, tossing the crumpled sheet of paper in the center of our table. “No question.”
Gil picked it up, scowling as he read the message out loud. “We’re still watching.”
Prudence leaned over his shoulder, then tutted. “And there’s this little drawing of an eye. Don’t tell me that Jonah Scion guy has a rogue Eye working for him, too.”
Bastion shook his head. “Doesn’t have to be an Eye, Prue. It could be any kind of seer. Anyone with the gift of long sight. Jonah’s gone off the deep end, but it doesn’t mean that he’s exclusively recruiting disgruntled Lorica employees.”