Relief swept over me when she called before I could send the message.
It was hard to hear her with the background cheers I guessed were in response to a touchdown. I realized I was talking louder than normal when an older woman on the other side of the aisle turned to stare at me.
The train slowed to a stop, and a college kid got on. He sat behind the woman.
After a minute or two of “Oh-my-god, you’re coming here,” and “How long can you stay?” Melissa’s phone started to cut out.
“Em—come down, you’ll need—train—Central—not Davis. Em? Em? Can you—me?” Melissa said, and the line went dead.
Did she say not Davis Street?
I leaned across the aisle and asked what stop was next.
“Davis Street,” the woman answered with a heavy accent.
“Do you know if we passed Central Street?”
“Yes, it was the last stop,” the college kid behind her answered.
Shit. Now what?
***
I stood on the Davis Street deck as the train departed, wondering what to do next.
Melissa didn’t answer her phone. It went straight to voicemail. I sent a text, but wasn’t sure she’d even get it, if her phone was turned off. Central Street couldn’t be that far of a walk, could it?
I took the stairs to the street level and looked for a main road heading north. I frantically called Melissa as I walked briskly down the block, but neither answered. I sent Matt a text, too, but he didn’t reply, and I didn’t have anyone else’s number in my phone.
Even though I didn’t want to call him, I knew Lucas was at the game. My mind battled the pros and cons when I reached the next corner. With the sun setting and my lack of familiarity with the area, I dialed.
“Hey, Emma. Whas up?” Lucas sounded drunk or high.
“Hey. Are you at the Northwestern game?”
“Ahh… yeah,” he said, but it wasn’t convincing. After a brief pause, he added. “Why? Is my dad asking or somethin’?” His tone was casual and laid back, which fueled my anxiety.
“Umm… no. I’m not with your dad. Or my aunt, for that matter. I’m here. In Evanston.” Panic began to set in as the streetlights illuminated brightly on each corner, confirming nightfall was imminent.
“Huh?”
I started to get impatient, my nerves on edge. “Just tell me… where you are? I’m sorta lost and getting freaked out.”
“Why? Where are you?”
“I’m in Evanston. I was going to the game and missed my stop. I’m walking on some street downtown, and I don’t even know where the football field is or where my friends are. I can’t even reach them right now.” I poured everything out without taking a breath.
“Hey, sorry, Emma. We’re not at the game. We left.” He said it so casually, I felt ill. “Who are you meeting anyway? That cute blonde friend of yours?”
“What? You mean Melissa. Did you see her… or Lewis?”
“Yeah, I think so. I don’t think they’re there anymore. We partied with them for a while, but didn’t have tickets, so we left.”
My stomach sank. Now what did I do?
“We’re at some bar, if you wanna come here,” he said. He continued talking, but his voice was muffled and it didn’t sound like it was directed to me. “Where’s this place again?”
“Lucas? Are you talking to me?”
“Hold on.”
“Wait. How’d you get into a bar?” I asked, but Lucas didn’t answer. I continued walking until I reached the corner. The sun began to fade.
“Lucas!” I screamed into the phone after crossing the street.
“Hold on!” he yelled back.
Patience wasn’t a quality I possessed. The streetlights brightened, and I realized I walked two city blocks waiting for him to answer me. Music and distant voices were all I heard on the other end as I waited. Not that Melissa or Jenna, or anyone else I knew, was trying to reach me.
“Emma?” Lucas finally spoke. “We’re at some bar, off Clark and ah… um, where again?” he called to someone else. “Clark and Sherman. Wait. Yeah. Let me know when you’re here, and I’ll come out.”
“Clark and Sherman?” I asked. “Where’s that?”
“Where are you exactly?” Background voices were louder than he was.
“Um…” I stalled, looking at street signs. “Sherman and Church.”
I heard him talking to someone else again, before giving me directions. “How did you get in a bar? I can’t get in. I don’t have a fake ID. Do you?” I couldn’t believe it, well, yes, I could believe he had one.
“Ray’s buddy got us in. He’s pretty cool. You’ll like him.”
“Okay.” I repeated the directions he gave me.
“Yeah. Text me when you’re close. I’ll come out. The door is off an alley. It’s kinda hard to see,” he said before the music and voices were silenced, and I knew he hung up. That, or we got cut off. Either way, Lucas was my only option.
I zipped up my jacket and picked up my pace. I knew better. I was putting my trust in him, and he was the last person that earned it.
Chapter 89
Ben's Story
It was my third visit of the day.
Claire was at the end of the bar wearing a bright red dress when I walked into the pub. It was the same tavern where we were picked up the hybrid lead the night before.
At first, Claire was reluctant. Later, she seemed comfortable in her straight brunette hair and Molly-like expressions. Assuming Victor frequented the place, we wanted to draw him out.
A thirty-two-year-old human male was putting the moves on Claire. He leaned close to her when he spoke, placed his arm on the back of her chair, and finally whispered a proposition. I watched it play out through the bartender’s eyes before I came in. I peered into the pub owner’s mind from the hotel lobby around the corner.
It was a long day of disguises in hopes to lure the hybrids out of hiding to get a lead on the infamous criminal immortal. Instead, it was human after human talking and drinking.
Earlier in the day, we thought we had a lead, but again, nothing. The address Claire downloaded was a vacant warehouse. Additional Sleeper Agents from around Great Britain were called to duty to aid in our quest. Some followed up on leads, others did surveillance, and Bianca continued to do research back in Westport.
Claire’s impersonation of Molly was a last-ditch effort for the day. One that Molly protested. Please let me do it myself, Benjamin, she begged. I ignored her pleas and shielded Claire from Molly’s thoughts to prevent influence. It was already after ten o’clock, and customers were retiring for the evening.
The bartender took my drink order, as I sat on the opposite end from Claire.
Claire wasn’t thrilled with the possible harm she was in, but she, too, felt it was a last resort before we moved on to other cities on the list of Victor sightings.
The human flirt that hovered over Claire jumped when the door slammed open. A short, slender man in his mid-twenties walked in. His eyes were focused on Claire, as he made a path toward her.
The bartender grumbled. It was clear he knew the young guy in the twill jacket and dark jeans. His unruly hair matched the brown in his jacket.
He approached Claire, stepping between her and the flirt. It if weren’t for my immortal hearing, I wouldn’t have heard his warning. Claire’s eyes met mine when I glanced to the end of the bar. The brown-haired man repeated himself. “You’re in danger here. You must come with me.” He reached for her hand, squeezing her wrist.
I read her thoughts as she downloaded data. He was a hybrid.
The human stood up, hovering at least six inches over the hybrid.
“Now hold on,” the human flirt said. “Who are you? Molly, do you know this guy?”
Claire chewed on her lower lip for a second before I sent her my thoughts. Molly wouldn’t be nervous, so stop chewing. And second, yes. You know him. Lie, I ordered.
She did as she was
told and the human threw cash on the bar and left, mumbling. Disgust was clear on his face.
“We must hurry,” the hybrid whispered to Claire. “He’s coming.”
***
I followed Claire and the hybrid down the street and into an alley.
“Who’s coming and where are you taking me?” Claire whispered to the hybrid when they were behind a row of dumpsters.
Don’t! I scolded. He thinks you’re Molly. Just get him thinking and download what you can.
He’s quiet right now. Nothing to download. It’s like he’s stripped of all memories.
I knew her rookie status would be a limitation. Just take a deep breath and regain your confidence. What would Molly do at a time like this?
The hybrid didn’t speak until they were securely hidden from view behind a row of large garbage cans. Releasing her from his grip, he said, “You have to leave. He’s watching you.”
She shook her head.
Go with it!
“Who’s watching me?” Her voice was low and soothing.
“You have to leave the city. Go into hiding. Back where you came from.”
Claire was still for a moment. She took a deep breath and put her hands on her hips. “Oh, you’re being silly. I just got here. Why would I leave so soon?”
Beads of sweat pooled on the hybrid’s forehead. “You don’t understand. You’re in danger here, Molly.” Fear filled his eyes. “A few of us were watching for you. But if I get caught, I’m dead. Do you understand? You need to leave before he finds you.”
I felt Claire’s pulse increase, as the hybrid grasped her upper arms and shook her when he spoke. “We’ve been waiting for you for years.” I didn’t need to see her eyes to know the fear in them. “You must go.”
Before Molly could eavesdrop, or any agent on site could read Claire’s thoughts or listen in on her conversation with the hybrid, I shielded them. I wanted to take him down, but I was reluctant to move too quickly. He had no memory and, once in custody, the likelihood of him disclosing anything helpful was slim.
Claire was silent, too shocked to contribute, I guessed.
Watching through Claire’s thoughts, I saw the hybrid’s eyes soften and shoulders droop in response to her silence. “You don’t know, do you?”
She hesitated, and then croaked out a, “No.”
He loosened his grip and closed his eyes. For a split second, an image of a mid-twenties dark-haired man popped into the hybrid’s thoughts. Before Claire could register who the man was, the thought was gone.
“I’m here to protect you,” the hybrid said. His eyes were wide open and focused on Claire. “My job was to watch for you. To warn you to leave.”
“How? Why?”
I propelled to the window ledge several feet above her and searched for the nearest portal.
“I’ve been here for almost ten years. There’s another one… like me. A Dual, we call ourselves, because Mr. Nicklas thinks we are loyal only to him. But we’re not.”
“Victor—”
“Shhh!” the hyrid scolded. “Don’t say his name.”
“I… I’m not sure I understand,” Claire whispered. A narrow doorway on the opposite side of the alley housed an old portal that didn’t appear to have been used in decades. If need be, I could easily get Claire to the safety of our world and out of the grips of this double-agent hybrid.
“The other one… like me… he… well, he follows Mr. Nicklas.” The hybrid shook his head, as thoughts slowly converted to words he spoke aloud. He struggled with communication, and I guessed some human abilities were stripped from him. Abilities he would never regain, like adverse effects from a lobotomy.
“Follows Victor?” Claire questioned.
The hybrid nodded. “Yes. He’s security detail for Mr. Nicklas. We aren’t allowed to call him by any other name.” He blinked slowly, regained his focus, and continued. “Mr. Nicklas doesn’t know we report to Aberthol.”
“Who’s Aberthol?” Claire mumbled her words.
The hybrid squinted, his eyebrow wrinkled. “He’s the one who sent me.”
A crease formed in the middle of the hybrid’s forehead as he stared at Claire.
“I thought you knew,” he said after moments of silence. His voice was low.
Claire shook her head.
“He’s Mr. Nicklas’ son.”
A drunk human stumbled into the alley and fell, knocking over a metal garbage can. The startle caused Claire to jump and me to release the shield surrounding us. Their conversation ended abruptly, as both turned toward the commotion. When I looked back at them, Bianca slipped through the portal and ran to Claire’s side.
The hybrid fled, and I followed. He led me through the alley, around the corner, and into a tube station. The hybrid was fast, but he lacked the speed and intelligence of immortals. I was inches away from grabbing him in a deserted section of the underground transit system, when Molly’s voice pierced my thoughts.
Ben, its Emma! Hybrids are after her in Chicago.
My heart pounded. I could reduce my pulse rate, but that would require precious seconds I couldn’t spare. Not yet, at least. Not until I got Emma to safety. I instructed Molly to stay in the safe house in Westport, though I knew she wouldn’t listen to me.
By the time I slipped through the portal, Molly was already there.
Chapter 90
Emma's Story
No–no–no–no–no! My phone chirped. The lights flashed, and then nothing.
“Damn it!” I mumbled aloud. Now how would I get ahold of Lucas?
I was on the corner of Clark and Sherman, just like he told me. Except there was no bar on either corner, and he didn’t answer his phone the three times I tried before it died. Lucas said something about an alley, didn’t he?
All I saw was a travel agency, a shoe store, and a tall business building.
The sky was grey and the air cool without the sun. A few people passed me on the street. They walked with purpose, and I guessed they were headed to the fancy restaurant around the corner. I loitered, uncertain which direction to turn. Traffic was thinning, and most of the angled parking spots were empty as I strolled by.
When I turned back, I noticed a few people a block behind me. The group was loud and looked to be college-aged guys. I wondered if they came from the bar where Lucas was. I thought about heading toward them, to see if there was an alley or an entrance that I missed, but as I watched them from the corner, something told me not to.
The sky darkened. I hesitated, unable to take my eyes off them. One guy was pushed into the empty parking spot in the street, while another staggered forward, catching himself before he fell. Their voices carried in the still air, louder than the distant sound of a car horn and police siren.
I took a step closer to the darkened building behind me, hovering in the safety of its awning. But as the group continued toward me, increasing their stride, my heart began to race.
The tall one in the middle raised his arm and pointed at me. Someone whistled, while another yelled out, “Hey, where you goin’?”
The creep’s words echoed behind me as I hastily crossed the street, sprinting in front of a car, and then jogging to the opposite corner. Clark Street was darker than Sherman, with buildings on one side and only one streetlight mid-block. There was no sign of a bar, or an alley, or whatever Lucas said there would be.
Stuffing my fists in my pockets, I walk-ran down the sidewalk. I was warm under my jacket, despite the fall evening breeze.
“Hey, wait up!” the creep called.
I ignored him.
When I reached the streetlight, I checked over my shoulder. Reflections loomed in the bookstore’s window behind me. Glimpses of his friends running to catch up caught my eye before I again focused straight ahead.
“Yeah! You! Wait up! Where you going tonight?” the creep yelled.
“Want some company?” someone else asked, followed by more voices and words I couldn’t decipher.
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Someone laughed a deep growl. “Wanna party?”
“You shouldn’t be alone out here.” The voices sounded closer.
The desire to run was overwhelming. I didn’t want to look scared.
“Never show fear,” Dad once told me. Of course, he was referring to sports. “Don’t let your opponent know you’re afraid,” he said when I was smaller than the guard that defended me in basketball.
“Okay, Dad,” I whispered, as if he were there with me.
A gentle breeze carried the scent of fried food. It was suddenly a comforting, safe smell, and I found myself charging ahead. The illumination of the red-and-yellow sign shined in the distance.
Just one more building, I thought. McDonald’s had never looked so good.
Out of the shadows, in a gap between two businesses, a heavyset woman appeared, wrapped in a long, beige sweater that looked too thin for the cool October evening. I jumped, stalling on the sidewalk momentarily.
Her warm eyes met mine briefly and, for the tiniest of moments, I felt better. At least I wasn’t alone any longer.
The woman passed by, as the creep caught up. Words flew between them and, for a second, I worried for her safety. Would the pack of drunks harass her, too? As much as I wanted to stop and help, a little voice in my head told me to run.
Before I could listen, he gripped my upper arm and spun me around to face him. Cold eyes met mine, and chills ran through my veins. I found myself unable to breathe as he stared at me, and his friends spoke to the woman.
“Hey, where you headed?” he asked.
“Um… I, ah…” I stammered and looked down. Everything about him was dark. An unzipped ebony jacket exposed a charcoal, button-down shirt tucked into ink-colored jeans. A gentle shake later, I felt compelled to look into his jet-black eyes.
“You really shouldn’t be alone out here at night. A pretty girl like you.”
“I… I have to go,” I said, though I didn’t move. His eyebrows rose, as his pupils dilated. Even his complexion was dark, not like the fair ivory skin I had. Something told me not to look him in the eye, but I couldn’t look away.
“No, you don’t. We haven’t even partied yet.”
“I need to go,” I said, struggling to get out of his hold.
“Leave her alone,” a deep voice from behind me called out.
A startled look crept up on the creep’s face, and he let go of my arm. Before he could change his mind, I turned and ran into the arms of my hero.