Chapter Twenty-Two
Twenty-Two
The power failed twice during the night, extinguishing the streetlamps outside.
When it came back on the second time, just before sunrise, I gently unwrapped Eric’s arms from around me and padded into the small kitchen to get a glass of water.
Various appliances blinked their displays at me until I reset their little clocks.
Then I stood at an open window and sipped my water, surrounded by the bitter smell of smoke drifting in from outside.
The street below was empty and still, apart from someone walking slowly along the sidewalk opposite.
Their head turned and I caught a flash of something metallic. Steel-rimmed glasses, maybe.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I retreated from the window. My mind was playing tricks on me. I refused to believe that the Seraphic Conclave was lying in wait yet again. They had bigger problems to worry about. Besides, lots of people wore glasses.
“Hey.”
I jumped at Eric’s soft voice and almost dropped my water. “Hi.”
Walking up behind me, he wound his arms around my waist and planted a gentle kiss on my bare shoulder. “Anything interesting out there?”
“Nope.” I shivered a little at his touch. “We might be the only people left on this block.”
He was quiet for a few moments. “Have you heard from Amira?”
“Crap. I should check. I couldn’t get through to her yesterday.” Reluctantly, I freed myself from his arms and retrieved my phone from the messenger bag I’d dropped next to the front door. “Oh boy,” I muttered. “She texted and called about forty times.”
“Why don’t you call her while I get some coffee going?”
Drifting back into the bedroom, I dialed her number. It rang just once before she picked up. “Where have you been?” she shouted.
I winced. “Sorry.”
“Colin, you can’t do that to me! I was convinced that something awful had happened to you!”
“I know, I know. Sorry. I tried texting you yesterday but it wouldn’t go through.”
“Where have you been?” she demanded again. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I’m with Eric. Are you okay?”
She was silent for a long time. “No,” she said at last. “I’m not okay. Mom and Dad tried to come into the city to get me last night, but the military has set up a cordon—no one in or out. They almost detained my parents.”
I listened in dismay. “That’s not good.”
“No, it’s not. We’re trapped here, and no one will tell us what’s going on. Did you see that thing up in the sky?”
“Yeah.”
“What do you think it was? A projection of some kind? A hologram?”
I closed my eyes. “I don’t know what it was,” I lied.
In the quiet that followed, I heard Eric’s coffee machine burbling away in the kitchen. “When are you coming home?” Amira finally asked.
Before I could respond, the phone buzzed against my ear. It was a text from Ms. Crenshaw: I need you here ASAP.
“I’m not sure when I’ll be home,” I told Amira.
“You’re not going in to work, are you?” she asked suspiciously. “It’s Saturday.”
“My boss just texted. She needs me.”
“What? Why?”
I exhaled slowly. “I don’t know, but it must be important. Don’t worry. My work is probably the safest place in the city right now.”
“Why would a bank be the safest place in the city? Never mind. Just come home.”
“I will, as soon as I can. I promise.”
She gave vent to an exasperated sigh. “You’d better text me every half hour, or I’m using your toothbrush to clean the toilet.”
Saying goodbye, I returned to the kitchen where Eric was leaning against the countertop wearing nothing but his boxer briefs. Briefly stunned into incoherence by the sight of his near-naked body, I cleared my throat and managed to ask, “Do you mind if I take a quick shower?”
Sauntering closer, he murmured, “I was hoping we’d spend the morning in bed.”
“You have no idea how badly I want to do that. But I can’t.”
His eyebrows drew together. “You’re not going in to work, are you?” he asked in a perfect echo of Amira. “It’s Saturday. Also, the city is falling apart, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
“I have to.”
“No, you don’t!”
“Eric,” I sighed.
“Please stay here. With me.”
Staring into his eyes, my determination wavered. What was I supposed to do at work, anyhow? What could any of us do? If I had to wait for the world to end, I wanted to do it lying next to Eric.
My phone buzzed again in my hand. I knew without looking that it was Ms. Crenshaw. She needed me, and if there was anything that might stop The-One-Who-Hungers, it was somewhere in Dark Enterprises.
“I have to go,” I said quietly.
Disappointment and frustration filled his gaze. Glowering, he rubbed both hands over his face. “Fine. But I’m taking you there myself.”
After a quick shower, I hopped back onto Eric’s motorbike and we set off toward Midtown.
Several cars had been parked across Sixth Avenue and set on fire, forcing us to detour around them.
Not long after that we encountered a convoy of armored personnel carriers, crawling slowly through streets scattered with more burnt-out cars.
Eric slowed the bike as the hulking vehicles came into view, and almost immediately a voice blared from the closest APC.
“The United States Army is enforcing a citywide curfew. Return to your homes. I repeat, a citywide curfew is in place. Return to your homes or be detained.”
Without hesitating, Eric turned onto a side street and we zipped away, followed by more threats of detention.
Skirting Washington Square Park, we found it occupied now by what looked like a temporary military encampment, including a vast holding area ringed with barbed wire and filled with what I assumed were detainees, some of them cradling broken limbs, dried blood visible on faces and clothing.
New York was dying, and our response was to loot and riot and beat and imprison.
The-One-Who-Hungers had spoken of humanity’s endless capacity for evil, and here it was, on full display.
Avoiding two more military convoys as well as a large pack of feral New Yorkers who shouted and threw garbage at us, I guided Eric to a spot just down the block from Dark Enterprises.
As I removed my helmet, I could hear something bad happening nearby, an audible swell of unfocused rage punctuated by the occasional crack of gunfire.
Dismounting from his motorcycle and onto the sidewalk with absolutely no grace whatsoever, I handed over the helmet. “Thank you for the ride.”
“I’ll come and pick you up whenever you want,” he told me, voice a little muffled by his own helmet.
“Okay. Be careful.”
As he throttled his bike and roared off, I approached Dark Enterprises, noting without surprise that the Starbucks across the street was still open.
The baristas inside owed their fealty to corporate masters almost as cutthroat as Management, and they would stay at their posts until the very end.
Pushing through DE’s revolving doors, I found the lobby filled with dozens of employees, most of them casting apprehensive glances through the tinted glass walls at the city outside.
Maybe they’d come in on the weekend to earn a little overtime, but I suspected the real reason was our building’s defenses.
When I got to the thirteenth floor, I found it busier than I’d ever seen it.
Middle management was everywhere, their robes whispering along the dimly lit hallways while more screams than usual echoed in the near distance.
Excited interns scuttled around, asking people if they needed anything, maybe a coffee or a breakfast burrito?
It looked like someone had left the door to their holding pen unlocked.
“Harris!”
My stomach plummeted into my shoes at the familiar voice.
I turned to find Sunil sauntering toward me, Tamsin at his side.
They wore identical little smirks that, on any other day, would have made me extremely nervous.
At the moment, though, I had more important things to worry about than these two jerks.
“What do you want?” I demanded irritably as they drew closer. “You shouldn’t be up here, especially on a Saturday. This floor is for top executives and their assistants.”
Tamsin’s smirk widened. “The entire board is here for an emergency meeting. Hadn’t you heard?”
“He’s probably been preoccupied trying to clean up his mess.” Sunil gave me a look of exaggerated concern. “How’re you holding up, buddy? Are you okay?”
I looked from one to the other. “What mess? What are you talking about?”
“Oh, just a little something we found in your desk.” Sunil produced a pamphlet from his pocket and held it up so I could read the title: “Summoning Angels.”
My heart lurched unpleasantly behind my ribs.
“We got here early this morning,” Tamsin cooed as she brushed something off my cardigan, “and had a little rummage through your things. Imagine our surprise when we happened across this.”
Sunil crowded further into my space, pushing me back. “There was an angel in the sky yesterday,” he said softly. His perfect teeth gleamed in a dangerous smile. “And now we know how it got there.”
My back was now pressed firmly against the obsidian wall, the two of them mere inches away. I looked desperately to the acolytes sweeping past, but none of them so much as glanced at us.
Tamsin’s long hair rippled as she tilted her head toward Sunil. “Gosh, that’s really serious,” she murmured. “Imagine what Crenshaw will do when she finds out.”
“Maybe we should show this to her right now,” he mused. Then, as if the thought had just occurred to him, “Or we could bring it to the entire board when they meet.”
Tamsin’s pale eyes shone with spite. “Oh, that’s a much better idea.”
Sunil smiled again, this time with genuine satisfaction. “After the board takes care of whatever is happening to the city, Tamsin and I will ascend to middle management. But you won’t be around to see it. You’re finished, Harris.”