"It's not like that."
"It's exactly like that, and I don't blame you one bit. If you want me to text, I will, but we need to keep him in the loop." He lowered his voice. "You've already tested him, Liv. You fell off a bridge."
"I know."
"Then you also know that jumping after you was a conscious choice, not a mistake he regrets. Text him. Please."
I sent the message and let Ricky take the lead as we headed for the back door.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
The door was unlocked. As Ricky held it open, I leaned through to find the cold-forged iron Melanie had mentioned. As soon as I did, I felt that weirdly burning cold. When I shone my penlight around the door frame, the beam reflected off a glaze of iron shavings, encircling the entire frame. I touched them and felt the icy burn.
"Thou shalt not proceed," I murmured.
"Innovative," Ricky said. "It looks like they spray-glued a layer of the stuff. You said Gabriel feels it?"
"It burns him. I'm guessing for a full-blooded fae it would be like leaping through a ring of fire." I set the knife down, took out my phone and texted a warning to Gabriel, on the off chance he needed to come after us.
I picked up the knife again and shone the light on the door frame, as Ricky ran his hand up and down it.
"Nothing?" I said.
"Just a tingle."
As soon as we stepped from the back hall, I smelled blood. Ricky did, too, and we followed it into the main room. The first thing I saw was the portrait of the lamia who'd died in my vision. Blood spattered and streaked the glass. It spattered and streaked the walls, too, and when we peered in, squinting against the darkness--
I fell back as moonlight lit a figure in the middle of the room.
Ricky caught my arm. He held me there a second and then whispered, "You can stay here."
An offer. Not an order or even a request, and he only nodded when I shook my head.
Ricky barely spared a glance for the figure as he checked through the two open doors and closed them. Only once he was sure no one could surprise us did he turn to that figure. He let out a deep sigh, muttering, "Fuck."
It was Erin--the young woman who worked with Aunika. She'd been bound to a chair and tortured. I'll say no more about that, only that the room was flecked with blood and I suspected she hadn't had the answers her killer wanted.
As Ricky crouched in front of Erin's body, my phone rang. It was on vibrate, but in the silence, even that was loud enough to make me jump.
"Gabriel," I said.
I told him what we'd found.
"Should we notify the police?" I asked.
"Not if you don't have to."
That's what I'd figured. Considering the sheer number of dead bodies that turned up in my wake, I needed to avoid being associated with one whenever possible. Especially when I didn't have a valid reason for being here at four in the morning.
Gabriel had me run through what we'd done so far, to determine how likely it was that we'd ever be tied to this crime. Then he said, "Exit the way you came in. Wheel the motorcycle. Don't start the engine until you're at least a block away. Have Ricky remove his Saints jacket until you're a few miles from the scene. Then ask him to drive here. I want to discuss this with both of you."
"Sure. We'll--"
Sirens sounded in the distance. Gabriel must have heard them and said to me, "I'm sure they're going elsewhere, given the neighborhood. But ask Ricky to check out a front window--"
"He's already there."
"Good. If you don't see lights, leave through the back immediately. But make sure before you step onto the street."