Chapter 17
Fire, Brimstone, and Blood
ELLIOT
“Remind me why we’re here again?”
Dred’s accent grates on my ears as he grumbles, close on my heels.
“Because I can’t catch a scent thread,” I say, still jimmying the lock.
Breaking and entering into a cursed and condemned building is probably not the best idea I’ve ever had, but it seems ever since the grove, I’m full of bad ideas.
I would blame a particular succubus with a body so beautiful you’ll forget your own name, but we all know it’s not her fault. Blaming Iris for our predicament is like blaming the dagger for cutting you. None of this would have happened if not for Oliver.
The mere thought of his name has my dampener clenching around my throat, and I find myself wishing he were still breathing. If only so I could have the satisfaction of watching the light leave his eyes after I squeeze every last breath from his lungs.
“Right,” Dred says, bored as ever. “But if you can’t smell anything, what makes you think I can?”
“You know, for someone with such great hearing, you’re a really shitty listener.”
“So Ty tells me.”
My eyes roll.
That’s the fifth time he’s mentioned Tysin this evening, and I’m worried it’s developed into some kind of nervous compulsion.
“Is her name just constantly on the tip of your tongue?” I ask.
“Oh, piss off. If I have to hear about Iris’s smell one more time, I’m going to rip my fangs out.”
He’s so dramatic. I don’t mention it that much. But even if I did, who would blame me? She smells like heaven.
I ignore our respective infatuations to explain to him for the third time tonight what we’re doing here.
“I can’t catch his scent on this plane,” I say. “But maybe there’s something in the shadow plane that can tell us who was here. Which means I need a shadow walker. And you are a shadow walker. It’s really very simple to follow.”
Dred nods, scanning the sidewalk.
Valorath Rd. isn’t as empty as it was the night I met Tara.
There’s a steady stream of customers walking by, but luckily, this crowd tends to mind its business.
So, even though I am hunched in front of the door, picking the lock with the arrowpoint pendant that hangs around my neck, no one bats an eye.
“And our only choice was an abandoned apothecary?” Dred asks.
He bares his fangs, lip curling as he peers past the frosted glass, and I stop fiddling with the lock as I stand to look at him.
“No, but there’s too much foot traffic around the grove.
Sorting through the threads is impossible.
” I’ve tried and caught everything from birds to banshees.
“But this place has been empty for the last six months,” I remind him, tapping the condemnation notice on the door.
“If there is a trace of him, he’ll be the only one here. ”
Dred nods, but I know he’s not listening when his only response is, “What do I get out of this exactly?”
“How about I don’t tell Tysin about you mind-weaving all her male coworkers to quit?”
Dred’s eyes narrow, but he doesn’t move.
“Stop being such a high-born ass, and just open it?” I say.
I’m three seconds away from strangling him and starting a clan war neither of our families would ever recover from when he sighs, dematerializes, and reappears on the other side of the door.
With a simple turn of his hand, the door is unlocked, and I step inside before anyone on the street decides to change their mind about keeping the status quo.
“This place is disgusting,” Dred says, cringing as the door shuts behind me.
That’s an understatement.
Disgusting implies something foul. But this…this is just unholy.
“Oh gods,” he mumbles. “What is that smell?”
“Probably the sulfur.”
The telltale signs of a possession are splattered everywhere. Ectoplasm dripping down the walls, a salt line as thick as my arm guarding the door, and the fragrant scent of rotten eggs hanging heavy in the air.
“They must’ve botched the exorcism,” Dred says dryly. “The whole building is possessed.”
I nod, watching the old till behind the counter open and slide shut repeatedly, the little chime of a successful sale ringing over and over.
“Can you see it?” I ask. “In the shadows?”
Dred shrugs.
“Not really. It’s too mangled. Probably the old shopkeeper, though, if I had to guess. Wouldn’t be the first time someone couldn’t let go of their livelihood.”
That would make sense. Given the eerie groaning coming from the far right corner, whatever is in here is in pain. But it doesn’t seem corporeal enough to do much more than open and close the drawer, so we should be fine.
“If I catch something because of you, Cross, you’re dead to me.”
I turn toward Dred, face blank.
“Who would want to possess you? You’re boring.”
He bares his fangs at me again.
“Just hurry up, mate.”
I step over the thick piles of black sludge dripping from the ceiling and make my way to the far back of the store.
It opens to a short hallway with two doors on either side.
The door on the left leads to a small office, where the poltergeist is still shuffling papers, and the door on the right leads to a narrow stairwell.
The picture from the alleyway is at an odd angle, zoomed in to accommodate the height from which it was taken, so we take the stairs, winding past four more floors before we reach the rooftop.
“What am I looking for exactly?”
I shrug.
“I don’t know. I think the picture was taken from here,” I say, moving to the northeast corner of the roof.
From this position, I can see clearly down into the alleyway, with a good vantage point of the back wall that marks its end.
I stand in place, and Dred follows.
“Here?” he asks for confirmation.
I nod, and he closes his eyes, slowly dissolving into the dark like smoke.
Sometimes I’m jealous of the creatures that wield magic. Pack magic is too internalized to be exerted. It’s meant for bonding, mating, and claiming, and it does not take kindly to being manipulated. But it sure would be useful to disappear into the dark like Dred does.
“See anything?” I ask.
There isn’t much to see on this plane.
Dred’s voice is quiet at the back of my mind.
“Don’t be a smartass, you know what I mean.”
Yeah, well, maybe you should shut up so I can focus.
I hold up my middle finger to the dead space in front of me, and contemplate cursing him aloud when my phone buzzes in my pocket. I reach for it, smiling like a fool as her name flashes on my screen.
Princess
I’m going to kill you.
Aw, baby, that’s so sweet.
Princess
What did you do?
I laugh as I read it. She must have found the other present I left her.
I don’t know what you’re talking about…
Princess
What did you do with Argent? He’s not in class…
Who?
I picture her sweet frown as she reads my reply, the little crinkle in her brow, and her teeth nipping at her lip, and any hope of stifling the smile on my face dies.
Princess
I’m serious. I told you to leave it be!
I don’t recall agreeing to that.
Princess
And I don’t recall ever agreeing to be your girlfriend!
Guess we both have bad memories then.
Be a good girl and pay attention, baby. I hear the new guy’s not as forgiving as Argent.
“How adorable.”
Dred speaks suddenly, and I spin, finding his disembodied head hanging just over my shoulder as he peeks out from the shadows.
“Find anything?” I ask, pocketing my phone.
“I don’t know. Someone was definitely up here. But there’s no smell, only a kind of strange flavor in the air.” He smacks his tongue and makes a face. “Like fire and blood mixed together. Does that mean anything to you?”
Fire and blood? I could think of a hundred creatures that have fire in their blood. Dragon-borns, phoenixes, pyromancers. The list is endless. Unless…
“What kind of fire?” I ask, drawing a hard glare from Dred. I ignore him. I don’t have time for his irritation. “Is it sweet? Sour? Spicy? Salty? Anything?”
I go on naming every variation I can think of until Dred waves a hand and shakes his head.
“It’s like the rot. Like dirt. Or burning trees,” he explains.
“Like brimstone?” I offer.
“Yes,” he says, emerging from the shadows fully. “Exactly like brimstone.”
I clap a hand on his shoulder, too excited to mind his sensitive nature.
“What kind of creature tastes like fire, brimstone, and blood?” I ask
In a rare occurrence, Dred’s face lights up, fangs flashing as we answer in unison.
“Demons.”