Chapter 49
RECHERCHé
Bronte
Dante sifts through guns, ammo, and an assembly of military-grade equipment organized in neat rows on the kitchen island.
He keeps it all hidden behind a hollow panel in his closet. Although I never condoned his hoarding of this much weaponry, I’m grateful for it now. Even the skull masks he makes himself with human bone from the criminals I skin will prove useful for what we’re about to do.
“Keep your wits, brother,” I say as I check my Kimber. “Not a single Leviathan leaves that masquerade alive.”
“Understood.” Dante loads a pump-action shotgun and aims out the window overlooking the deceptively calm Atlantic. “Ready to get back on this old bike?”
“Oui.” I clip smoke grenades onto my belt and strap a tactical vest to my torso as he slings the shotgun onto his back and slips KA-BAR knives into the sheathes on his thighs. “You?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” He slings a bandolier of grenades over his chest. “You seem pretty calm, considering. Are you feeling well enough to do this?”
It’s a fair question. If I were losing my shit thinking of Poppy either afraid or dead, I’d be a liability. Nothing is more dangerous in a hostile zone than an unstable mind.
I flex my right hand, not needing to look at the runes that spell the wrath coursing through my nervous system. But instead of succumbing to the rage boiling in my blood, instead of letting it ride me, I take the reins and channel it to fuel my potential.
“Oui, I’m good.”
“Merveilleuse.” Dante and I each pick a clear Bluetooth earpiece from the countertop and lodge them in our ears. “Keep the line silent unless shit goes south.”
I finish packing myself with weapons and turn to find Jezebel sitting on her haunches, tail flicking. I found her locked in the manor’s library after I dropped by for Poppy’s parents, who weren’t there and didn’t answer their phones. “You’re staying here, ma chou.”
Eerily, the black panther inclines her head. I wouldn’t be shocked if she truly is a guardian angel, sent here to monitor her charge. Her ears perk a moment before my pocket vibrates.
I check the caller ID before answering. “What do you want, Volkov?”
“Emi spread the news. I’m coming with you, Bourbon.”
My hackles rise. “No, you’re not.”
“Da, I am. You’re not the only person who cares about Poppy.
” Before I register the echo, I’m staring at Nikolai as he steps into the kitchen from the basement door.
Slippery bastard snuck in here, probably through the same damn window that Poppy had all those months ago.
He flicks a hand at our weapons and gear. “Got any more goodies to spare?”
I don’t bother arguing any further. He’s made his decision.
“Only if you can follow orders.”
“No going rogue. Got it.” He loads himself up with pistols and blades. “What’s the plan?”
As Dante tells him, my cell buzzes again. I answer my phone on speaker with a gruff, “Emi?”
“Poppy’s phone signal just went dark. I’m trying to hack the campus cams, but they’re blocked.”
“Shit. Hold on, I have her bugged.”
Ignoring the incredulous glares, I open the app.
There’s no pink dot.
I see red, growling, “Fuck.”
“Has anyone tried calling Poppy’s parents?” Nikolai asks.
“Oui, no answer. They weren’t home, either. Jezebel was locked in the library.”
“Let me check the manor’s cameras,” Emi says, typing vigorously. “Shit! They’re wiped. Along with every fucking street cam in Salem.”
My phone cracks in my grip. I find my brother’s anguished gaze, and my chest threatens to burst.
Something strange happens when emotion triggers the most primal parts of us to wake up and open its eyes.
Something inexplicable. First, the world shrinks—then silences altogether.
As if the awakening of that intuition, that instinct, that beast within us all, is so recherché, even the air holds its breath.
A vibration disrupts the silence.
“I-I’m getting another call,” Emi stammers, her unsteady voice grating my raw nerves. “I don’t know the number.”
A beat passes before Dante barks, “Answer it, Remiel.”
“Okay, okay, l-let me bridge the call.” Never has a moment felt like an eternity. “H-hello?”
First, I hear the lighter. Then the modified voice growls, “St. Aurelius’s tomb. Tell whoever you need. This ends tonight.”
“I-I don’t understand.”
“You don’t need to understand. You need to save the last Morgensterns while they still breathe.”
Click.
My world goes mute, questions circling my skull like vultures. Dante takes my phone before I can crush it and says more to Emi. I’m not listening. Not as I crack at the seams and breathe decimation.
Nikolai settles a hand on my shoulder. “She needs you.”
I need you, Poppy once said to me.
She. Needs. Me.
“Emi,” I say, grabbing a mask, “can you tap into our comms?”
“Already here,” she reports in our ears.
“Parfait. I need you to call Bax. Tell him to meet us at Indigo with as much dynamite as he can get his pyromaniac hands on.”
“On it.”
I turn to the black panther who looks just as bloodthirsty as me.
“Oh, Jezebel.” I grin wide as my sanity catapults into another dimension. The one where I’m Scythe, on a mission to flay skin from bone and make it fucking hurt. “How hungry are you for sinners’ flesh?”
Jezebel yowls, a murderous gleam in her hellfire eyes.