“Come on,” Noah said, grinning, suddenly at my side and grasping my elbow. A deep, singsong voice that sounded strikingly familiar broke through the night air.
“Awe, now, dere she is, den,” a tall, wiry black man said from the top step of the screened-in porch. “You come on over here, Riley Poe, and bring your brodder; dat’s right. Let me take a look at you two.”
I threw one more glance at Luc, whose back was to me as he spoke, and for a second I thought to crank up my strigoi hearing and eavesdrop. I didn’t get the chance. Garr, Preacher’s cousin, stopped me. No—I mean literally. He stopped me—with a lot more strength than an old man should have had. I stared at him.
Garr flashed me a gap-toothed smile.
Then, it hit me. He had tendencies.
A little something Preacher had left out.
As Garr led me up the steps into his river cabin, Noah, Phin, and Seth on my heels, he let out a deep, amused chuckle.
“Well, baby,” he said, and we stepped into the cabin. “We got some catchin’ up to do, me and you.” All of six feet five inches, he looked down at me. The ceiling fan whirring in the living room seemed about to take his head off. “Now, we ain’t stoppin’ in here, no, sir.” He inclined his head, adorned with a faded Awendaw Blue Crabs cap, perched slightly crookedly. “Straight out da back door, to da pavilion. Your Eli is waitin’ for you out dere.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “You like crabs, don you, girl?”
I smiled. “Yes, sir. I do.”
“Good, den. Let’s get out dere before dey all get eaten.”
Garr left no chance for me to discuss anything with Noah or Phin. He continued to pull me through the little river house, straight out the back door, and down a long wooden dock over the marsh. A slight breeze kicked up and blew briny air across my cheeks, and the rustle of saw grass blades scraping against one another nearly soothed me.
Nearly, but not quite.
Once at the end, three other Gullah standing by Eli raised their heads and grinned. Two were older, maybe in their late fifties, and one was younger, midtwenties. The barefoot younger guy, bare-chested and wearing cut-offs to his knees, was dumping a basket of live crabs into a large pot of boiling water. Metal crab baskets lined the dock, and two long metal, green-netted scoop nets rested against a lawn chair in the middle. Two large coolers sat beside them. The boy nodded, keeping his gaze trained on me. Eli walked toward us.
“Come on in here, girl,” Garr said, and led us into the screened-in boathouse. A long, well-used wooden table and benches took the length of the small house; covered in newspaper, a large pile of boiled crabs, red from cooking, sat heaped in the center.
“Sit,” he said, and crossed in front of me to sit on the other side. “Eat.” Old gnarled hands picked up a crab, pulled off the claw, and pulled the pincers apart. He sucked the juice from the claw, then cracked into the meat with a tiny hammer.
Eli stepped inside and found a seat beside me. Seth slid in next to me, on the other side; Noah and Phin crossed over and sat on the other side, next to Garr. A few minutes later, Luc wandered in and sat next to Seth. We all ate. The young Gullah brought in plastic cups and a cold gallon milk jug filled with sweet tea, then poured our glasses and left.
“You see, girl,” Garr started, in between bites of white claw meat, “Charles Town in a bad way, dat’s right. Just like Savannah. Maybe worse,” he said. “Dat Preacher, he told me what happened over dere, with da hell stone.” He shook his head. “Dat’s bad stuff, dem Arcoses. But dem Duprés, dey handled it good, wit your help.” He glanced at Seth. “You all right, boy?”
Seth nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Garr nodded. “Well, we glad to have your help here in Charles Town. Been a long time since we had much trouble here, dat’s right, Noah?”
Noah gave me a quick glance. “Yes, sir.”
Garr leaned forward, crab meat sticking to his fingers. “Well, we got it now, doh. Dem Arcoses, dey turned some, dey left some wit tendencies, dey killed some. No tellin’ how many runnin’ round now, doh.”
“Preacher says we have to entomb them again,” Eli offered. “Maybe just one of them.”
Garr nodded. “Probly so.” Eli had already explained to Garr Victorian’s explanation, and about me. The whole while, Garr said nothing more. But he watched me with ancient, wise eyes.
We finished eating; I don’t think I’d ever eaten so many crabs at once. They were good, with just the right amount of seasoning. Some of it I recognized as normal, regular, everyday spicy crab boil seasoning; some I did not.
“To keep up your strength,” Noah said, staring at me from across the table. He wagged his brows.
By the time we finished, the sun had nearly set; the gloaming, Noah had called it, with no sun, no moon, and the eerie glow of afterlight. Usually, the gloaming was filled with bugs and birds and frogs, calling, mating, singing—not so much anymore. Funny how nature knew what was going on, but humans didn’t.
We left the dock, and the afterlight, behind.
Inside Garr’s river house, he pulled something from the pocket of his white T-shirt and stopped us one more time. He handed a vial each to Seth and me. “Drink up, Brodder and Sister,” he said. “Dis will let dem newlin’s tink you mortal all de way. Might help for a spell, dat’s right.”
Neither Seth nor I hesitated; we unscrewed the small little lid and turned the bottle upright. We drained every drop. It tasted a mixture of sweet and tang, but with no aftertaste. We handed the vials back to Garr.
“Dere now. You go and take care of stuff. I’m here if you need me,” he said.
“Thank you,” I returned, and before I could go, he grasped both of my hands. With aged fingers he trailed the dragons on my arms, scraping the wings at my cheek.
“You mind dem Duprés, girl,” he said. “And dis Noah, too. Dey keep you and your brodder safe, and Preachers boys and dat odder big dark fella.” He narrowed his eyes. “Don be a hardhead, girl. You can’t take dem all on by yourself.”
“Yes, sir,” I answered, and could only wonder what sort of conversations he and Preacher’ had had about me.
Garr grinned. “Wasn’t no Preacher, girl. Was Eli Dupré. Now git.”
I could do nothing more than stare.
Garr laughed and shooed us out of his little old green river house. Eli grasped my arm and pulled me close.
As we crossed the yard, the lamplight cast an amber half circle around the house. Beyond the circle, fireflies blinked in the night. It felt surreal here, on the Awendaw; almost disjointed from the hell in Charleston. I knew better, though, and by the time we left and headed south on US 17, complete darkness had fallen. This time, I rode back with Eli on his bike.
Just as we hit the city limits, I felt Eli’s hand grasp mine, wrapped around his waist, and squeeze. He said nothing. He didn’t have to, and I wasn’t going to ask.
No sooner had Eli stopped the bike than Victorian’s voice fill my head.
Please, Riley—you don’t have to do this. It is a fight you will never win, love. Don’t you see? There’re too many of them, and I cannot stand the thought of your putting yourself in danger. I’m begging you—leave now. Please? And yes—you can answer me in your head. Another strigoi quality. Just think to me. . . .
“What is it that you can’t stand the thought of? My killing your kind? I’m in constant danger, Victorian. Whether I’m in the fight or not. You know me by now—I will not sit idly by and watch others die. Maybe you can live with that, but I can’t, ” I thought.
“Ah, see? Just that easy. You’ll find more abilities as time goes by. And this—it’s one of the many qualities I adore about you, Riley. I so wish I could just take you away. You and I, completely alone somewhere, far away from the melee you’re about to subject yourself to. I dream of nothing, day and night, but you; the smell of your skin, the taste of your lips, the feel of your hands on me. It’s . . . almost painful.”
“I’m not getting into that with you right now, Victorian. Yo
u know where my heart lies,” I thought to myself.
“I know where you think your heart lies. I aim to prove otherwise. For now, love, I beg you; listen to those around you. Let them keep you safe. My existence would be no longer if you perish.”
“I can’t make promises, other than I will be careful. Now, go away. You’re distracting me.”
Ah, a promising gesture indeed. Distraction. I have more hope now than before. I shall see you soon, love. Stay safe.
“Ri, what’s wrong?”
I blinked, and just that fast, the conversation was over. I focused on Eli’s face. I could tell he couldn’t hear my conversation with Victorian. “I just carried on a conversation with Victorian. In my head,” I said, closing my eyes briefly. I looked at him. Eli’s eyes were harder than usual, but he said nothing. “He says it’s my strigoi blood that gives me the ability, and no,” I said, meeting his angry gaze, “I don’t want it. But I’m stuck with it. And he was begging me not to fight.” I wasn’t lying—Victorian was a distraction. Eli was a distraction. Anything right now was a distraction. I had to get my mind in the game and erase all other distractions from my thoughts. It was bad enough my little brother ran beside me in all this; I had to do things right the first time and get this shit over with.
“Thank you for telling me,” Eli said. “No more secrets, Riley.”
My stomach turned. “No more secrets.”
“We ready to get dirty?” Noah said, walking from the garage and standing before me in the beam of street light.
I glanced at Luc, who rolled up and pushed his bike in next to the Camaro.
“Yep,” I said. “Let’s go.” Noah’s guys appeared from the building; Zetty with them. Phin, Luc, Seth, Eli, and I gathered.
“This way,” Noah said, and took off running. His team followed.
“Ladies first,” Luc said, but Eli grabbed my arm when I started off. “Riley,” he said. “Be careful. I mean it.”
“I always am,” I said, and hoped he could detect the sincerity in my gaze. He gave a short nod—meaning he understood—and we took off after the group.
Jenna, in her baggy jeans, T-back, and black high-tops, could just about outrun Noah. We moved through the city’s industrial section on foot, bounding off rooftops, treetops, cars and awnings; there wasn’t a flat surface we couldn’t use. Zetty, whom I hadn’t done any free-running with, surprised the hell out of me. That big guy could haul ass and jump just as high as Phin. He wasn’t quite as nimble, maybe, and obviously not as experienced; Phin had been doing it a lot longer. Still, he was impressive.
The brine of the city, mixed with the dirt and trash and urine of downtown industrial Charleston, hung thick in the air, trapped in the same fog of humidity as Savannah. Dark clouds had formed, just before dark, and a slight rumble sounded in the darkened distance. Every once in a while, heat lightning would flash across the sky.
It brought back heated memories of Eli and me on the barrier island, not too long ago, and he must have remembered, too, because our gazes met frequently and there was always something there, heated, between us. It thrilled me and urged me on.
As we ran and leapt, my anger, anxiety, fear, propelled me. I pumped my arms, used my thigh muscles to spring from ledges, and moved with all my energy until I burned. It felt good; the weight of my blades, sheathed in moleskin made by my surrogate grandfather, felt more familiar; adrenaline built up. By the time Noah led us to a dilapidated redbrick building in a row of other old buildings in the very slums of Charleston, I barely recognized it as an old church; after I noticed the double wooden archways, I wondered if it’d once been a carriage house. Graffiti in white paint marked the double doors—two large M’s, whatever that meant. Crouched atop the roof across the street, we peered at the row. I could hear the roar inside. With my sense of smell I detected sweat, piss, and the metallic scent of blood. I struggled to keep the exaggerated oscillatory sounds of the city out, and after a few moments of concentration, I filtered out most. I glanced upward. One small oval window, near the top, flickered with light. Noah moved next to me. Eli stood protectively on my other side.
“No cops wander this side of town,” he said. “They skirt it, avoid it, and it’s always been bad, and I don’t mean vampire bad.” He glanced at me. “That’s a new development. I mean street gangs, drugs, whores—you name it. It’s just easier for the cops to let what happens, happen. Not enough room in the prison for all this.”
I looked at him.
He pointed up the street. “See that convenience store?” I looked. “Whatever kind of shit you want, you can get out back next to the Dumpster, right along with a loaf of bread, a bag of Chick-O-Sticks, and a six-pack of beer.”
“Sweet place to raise a family,” I offered. “Now, are we headed in or what? I don’t want to be in the middle of a fight when a vision comes over me again. I go totally out.”
“I know,” Noah said, his mercury eyes regarding me, then shifting to Eli. “I can always pull you out of it.”
“The hell you will,” Eli said, his voice dark and threatening.
I narrowed my gaze at them both.
He laughed. “Okay, Riley Poe. Bro. Chill.” He inclined his head. “Once we’re in, we separate. If any of the newlings notice us all together, they’ll get suspicious and come after us, despite the Gullah potion we all drank. You wanna try and save a few in the quickening, right?”
“Yeah,” Phin answered. “As many as possible. Garr’s ready for them, right?”
Noah nodded. “Yep. They’re waiting at our place. One call and his guys are here to haul them off.”
Phin nodded. “Good deal.”
Noah continued. “All right. Eli, Luc, stay with Riley. If she goes out, get her out. Josie, I’ll be with you and Seth.” Noah gave my brother a hard look. “And don’t zone in on your sister. She’s our concern tonight, not yours. You watch your own neck. We’ll watch hers.”
“You can use Luc on someone else. I got Riley,” Eli said, moving close.
Noah grinned. “Luc’s for you, man, in case you get out of control.”
I looked at Eli’s face. It darkened. “I’ll be okay,” I assured. It didn’t seem to help much.
Seth threw a glance my way. The wind caught his dark brown hair and tossed it into his eyes. I could tell he hated this, and for a second I wished like hell we could go back, to before the Arcoses were released. I missed his innocence. Love you, he mouthed to me. I mouthed it back, then nodded to Noah. “Okay.”
Noah gave him a return nod, then turned to the others. “Phin, you’re on Zetty. My guys, scatter. Keep your eyes peeled and stay close—but not too close. We don’t want them knowing we’re all together.” He glanced down at the street and pointed. A group of four guys had turned the corner and were headed to the entrance. “Mortals. Perfect. Let’s follow them in. And hey—we’re not here to cause shit tonight. The killings won’t happen until the end of the week, anyway, so keep your head on straight.” He looked at me and smiled. “Follow me, darlin’.”
I looked back at Eli, who inclined his head to follow Noah, and I did. Luc stayed behind us. We swung down, bounded, and leapt, until we dropped to the sidewalk. In the distance, a siren blasted over the city, and close by, a baby’s unhappy scream seeped out of an open window and ripped through the night. It gave me chills to think of a baby being raised in this environment. I knew there were thousands more I’d managed to tune out.
I followed Noah to the front entrance, and we filed in behind the mortals. Inside, the fanatic boom of heavy metal music thumped against the walls, joined by the muffled rumble of hollering, objects being slammed against surfaces, swearing, cheering.
Screams.
We found more graffiti inside. The whole place was dim, with a few candles lighting the interior of the shelled-out church, with a fading charred outline of Christ on the cross where it used to hang on the wall, obviously before a fire took it out. Charred rafters overhead and a set of narrow steps leading upward ne
ar the back made up the room. We headed to the stairs. The mortals had already started up. Hurrying across the floor littered with cans, trash, liquor bottles and cigarette butts, we followed them up and pushed into a crowded room above. Our group instantly separated. The scent of kerosene burned my nostrils as I followed Luc around a ring of spectators. Inside were two fighters; bare to the waist, wearing ripped jeans, and barefoot. Both were mortal. As I squeezed through the crowd, I glanced around and noticed several guys wearing dark shades.
“Newlings trying to hide their freaked-out eyes,” Luc offered. “Keep up.”
I pushed closer to Luc. “Why is it mortal against mortal?” I said into his ear.
He looked at me. “To weed out the weak,” he offered.
Just like Noah had said, the newlings were looking for the strongest of the mortals to lure into their band. It made sense.
“Let’s get in here,” Eli said, and pushed in next to a pair of guys at ringside. Two guys fought, their faces cut and bloodied. I could literally sense the bloodlust accumulating in the room, vying with an immense overload of testosterone. How the newlings were keeping their cool, I had no friggin’ clue.
“Whoever created them is controlling them—that’s how,” Eli said against my ear. “With one thought he could tell them to maul and devour everyone in this room. That’s why I want you to watch your mouth, your ass, and not to do anything stupid.”
I looked at him hard. “Yeah, I got that, Dupré. Stop worrying so much.” The guy next to me jumped, and I fell hard into Eli’s side. “Does that mean he’s here?” I asked.
Luc pushed beside me and shook his head. “He’s not here.”
The crowd cheered as one of the fighters roundhouse kicked the other in the face and knocked him down. One of the newlings, dressed in dark jeans, a dark tee, and a black skully with dark shades, walked the perimeter of the man-made ring, watching everything—including what went on in the crowd. Across the way, I noticed Noah and Seth. My stomach lurched at the thought of watching my brother fight. He normally wasn’t a fighter. He was sweet, and he had a kind, cheerful soul.