X Marks the Spot (Silvercrest U #4)
Chapter 1
XAVE
A sense of foreboding falls over me as I approach the massive, abandoned warehouse as it looms before me in the darkness.
The sprawling structure, and the mostly deserted industrial district it’s in, wouldn’t be out of place in a horror movie, and everything about the building, from the thick chain and padlock on the front entrance to broken windows and layers of graffiti etched into the concrete walls, screams “stay away.”
It looks like the last place an exclusive, limited-invite rave would be held, which is exactly what the event hosts were going for.
The atmosphere is part of the experience, and nothing gets spoiled rich kids more excited than cosplaying as regular people and pretending they’re taking a walk on the wild side when in reality, they’re attending a meticulously planned soiree with top-shelf offerings and top-tier entertainment.
A cool breeze grazes my skin when I reach a break in the chain-link fence surrounding my destination.
I spot a white rabbit, about the size of my hand, with a black X stenciled inside it spray-painted on the ground.
Following the instructions I was given, I slip through the fence and go to the left side of the building, carefully stepping over the piles of trash and bits of broken glass littering the ground.
There’s another white rabbit painted on the corner of the warehouse next to the alley that runs between the building and the one beside it.
The alley is long and dark and would make most sane people say “hell no,” but I’ve never claimed to be sane, and I step into the confined space with all the confidence of a horror movie actor who’s about to get offed by whatever homicidal being is after him.
It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the near total darkness in the alley, but my steps are sure and steady as I walk past piles of garbage bags and other things I can’t identify that line the narrow alleyway.
The night air is as still and silent as a mausoleum when I finally get to the back of the building, and the only indicators that I’m in the right place is another small white rabbit with the stenciled X painted on the back entrance, and the rusty chain with a massive padlock still on it laying on the ground a few feet from the door.
A low buzz of excitement moves through me as I walk up to the door and gently rap my knuckles against the scarred metal. Two tiny lights, one blue and one red, appear in the darkness as a small camera mounted above the door comes online.
I wait for whoever is checking the camera feed to do their thing, and more of that same excitement dances over my skin when multiple clicks, like locks being disengaged, ring out in the quiet night.
The door swings open, and an absolute unit of a man stares at me from his place just inside the building.
At six foot two and two hundred and ten pounds, I’ve never been considered a small guy, but right now, I feel small.
The dude in front of me is easily six-seven, and every inch of him is thick, solid muscle that makes my own sculpted form look gangly in comparison.
His midnight-black clothes and the gun nestled in his shoulder holster finish off his “fuck with me and die” vibe.
I wait as he gives me a long once-over, his expression unimpressed with just a hint of impatience.
“Name?” he asks in a low, growly voice.
“Jonathan Greely.”
That’s not my name, but it’s the name the person who invited me knows me by, so that’s the one I give him.
Resting one hand on his gun, he pulls a phone out of his back pocket with the other.
I wait as he checks his phone, most likely looking at the guest list to make sure I’m supposed to be there, then he releases his sidearm and tucks his phone back into his pocket as he steps back to let me in.
I’ve only made it about three steps inside when the door slams closed behind me and a big, beefy arm is extended in front of me like the barrier gate in a parking garage, stopping me in my tracks.
“Arms out,” he growls.
Dutifully, I put my arms out and widen my stance so he can search me.
He’s more thorough than I expect, but his touch is impersonal and professional, and he almost seems bored as he pulls my phone and money clip out of my pocket to examine them before tucking them back into my pockets and finishing his search.
“Hand.” He points to my right hand, and I extend it to him.
He pulls a small contraption out of his pocket and pokes at the back of it a few times. I hold still as he presses what I can now see is a stamp pad against the back of my hand, but there’s nothing on my skin when he pulls it away.
I keep my trap shut as he moves the unit attached to the stamp pad over my hand and flicks on what looks like a black light.
A barcode appears where he stamped me, bright against my skin as it glows under the bluish-purple light.
I make a mental note of the device as he turns it off so I can tell my cousins about it. That’s exactly the kind of tech they’re into, and I’ve never seen anything like it before.
When the unit is away, the guard points down the dark hall behind him. “Follow the signs. If you don’t, you’ll have my team to worry about. Understood?”
“Is your team as big as you?” I ask, unable to help myself.
The corner of the guard’s mouth tips up in a barely there smile. “Bigger.”
“Then I hear you loud and clear.”
He motions down the hall again, and I take that as my cue to get the fuck out of there before his good mood wears off.
The echo of my shoes against the tiled floor follows me as I make my way down the dark hallway and scan the area for the white rabbit that will lead me to the rave I was assured would be a night to remember.
The inside of the building is just as run-down as the outside, and the walls are covered in so many tags it almost looks fake.
Like someone handed a group of teenagers a bunch of cans of spray paint and told them to go hog-wild on whatever surface they could find.
The floor is littered with trash and bits of busted drywall and broken office equipment, and the only source of light are dim battery-powered bulbs that hang from the ceiling every few feet and click on and off as you move under them.
I could use my phone flashlight to help me navigate, but don’t bother.
I can see enough to find my way, and I’m not scared of the dark, so there’s no point.
Besides, I have no clue if the guard and his equally huge buddies would have an issue with me using my own light when the dim bulbs were an obvious choice, and I’m not in the mood to find out what the consequences of breaking an unspoken rule are.
I’m about halfway down the long hallway when I finally spot the white rabbit on a metal door to my left.
Gripping the cold handle, I give it a twist, but the door doesn’t budge. Before I can pull on it again, a blue light appears on what looks like a card reader next to the door.
Curiously, I put my hand under the reader so the light shines over my stamp, and the loud click of the door unlocking tells me that was the right move.
The silence around me is unnerving as I pull open the door and peer inside.
Another of those battery-powered lightbulbs hangs just past the door, faintly illuminating a set of metal stairs.
There are no lights beyond the single bulb in front of me, and everything past the third step is cloaked in inky blackness.
Stepping onto the landing, I pull my phone out of my pocket and turn on the flashlight.
I might not be afraid of the dark, but I’d rather not put my hand on the railing and use that to guide me.
I’m not worried about traps or anything that can hurt me, but railings are dirty as fuck, and I avoid touching them whenever possible.
I also don’t know what kind of shape the stairs are in, and I’d rather not risk falling or hurting myself because I can’t see where I’m stepping.
My phone flashlight cuts through the dark and creates a small circle of light around me, but everything beyond a five-foot radius is still completely hidden from my view.
Following the light from my phone, I make my way down the stairs and into the abyss below.
It feels like I’m descending forever, but I eventually reach the bottom and pause to try and orient myself. Round lights, like miniature pot lights, flick on, glowing soft white from where they’re stuck to the wall directly to my right.
The concrete floors tell me I’m in a basement of some sort, and I shine my phone light over the wall as I search for the white rabbit with the X on it. It takes about a minute, but I finally spot it next to a massive metal door about fifty feet from the bottom of the stairs.
There’s another stamp reader on the wall beside the door, and I stick my hand under it. A light on the reader flashes, and I’m immediately assaulted by loud EDM and flashes of bright lights as I pull the heavy metal door open and slip into another large room.
Unlike the one I just came from, this room isn’t empty, and I turn off my phone flashlight as I wait for my eyes to adjust to the change in light and for my ears to adjust to the sudden onslaught of noise.
Whoever designed the room went all out with the soundproofing, and I never would have guessed there was a mini rave going on beyond that metal door if I hadn’t stepped right into it.