I shook my head. “Yes. No. It wasn’t my fault,” I said, and Edden squinted at me.
“Rachel…,” the FIB officer warned as he took the lantern and gestured to the stairs. “Tell me now, or I’ll make you fill out paperwork.”
I swallowed hard and shifted my feet because of the cold. The stairs were only thirty steps away—it looked like a mile. My finger throbbed where Al had cut it, and I curled my hands into fists. “Tom Bansen was down here. He was working a deal with Walker to get Holly. He saw Ford touch Holly, so he thought she was safe. Holly killed him.”
Edden grunted. “Where is he? Corpses just don’t get up and walk away.”
“Yes they do,” Ivy said, and I leaned heavily on her arm as I looked up the long stairway.
Forcing my breath to stay even, I decided a little lie wouldn’t hurt anyone. No one needed to know I’d made the spell that put Pierce inside the shunned witch. “Al got him breathing again and dragged him off,” I said softly.
Edden’s mouth dropped open, but Ivy snorted. “It’s not my fault,” I protested.
Crap, I was tired, and as Edden winced, I started for the stairs, muttering, “I’m going home.” I wanted to move fast, but it was barely a crawl as Ivy and I shuffled along.
The light swung in Edden’s grip as he waited for us to actually reach the stairs. “I want a statement before you leave,” he said, and I made a noise of disgust.
Hours. I’d be here for freaking hours if I had to give a statement. Beside and a little behind us, Edden played his light over the tunnel. “So this is how Remus and Mia did it,” he said, gazing back at the vaulted ceilings, going shadowy behind us.
I hoped there’d be someone upstairs in a hospital coat. If I moaned enough, they’d cart me out of here and I could slip away, statement or not. “How they did what?” I asked, wincing when my foot found a chunk of concrete.
Edden took my other arm and gestured to the tunnel stretching into the black. “How they kept slipping through our lines,” he explained.
I nodded, head down as I walked between them. “What are these, anyway? A vamp underground? I never knew this was down here.”
“It’s an old mass-transit plan started in the 1920s,” he said, sounding like an instructor as the walls of the stairway closed in around us. “Too little money, too much political infighting. Unexpected structural damage when they drained the canal. A war and a depression. It never got finished. Some of the tunnels are filled in, but stretches of it still exist here and there. It’s cheaper to inspect them once a year than destroy them. Some carry water pipes now.”
“And Mia would know because she was here when it was built,” I said sourly.
Edden chuckled. “I’d be willing to bet she was on the committee to beautify it or something.” Making a little grunt of remembrance, he thumbed the two-way on his belt and said loudly, “Hey, someone call utilities and tell them we need a new lock out here!” and then to me, “Rachel, I’m not one to say I told you so—”
A flash of anger lit through me. “Then I’ll say it for you,” I snapped as my foot almost slipped off the stair. “I told you so. She is a bad seed. A spoiled brat with a goddess complex. She wants to live above the law, and I should have treated her like an animal and gunned her down on sight!” Heart pounding, I shut my mouth and concentrated on the next step.
“And yet you stopped her with just your earth magic,” Edden said, completely unruffled as he took my other arm. “You’re becoming a superhero, witch.”
I winced as I remembered Holly’s plaintive cries for her mama when they’d hauled Mia upstairs, roped like a tiger. “That’s funny,” I said sourly. “I so totally feel like crap.”
No one said anything. Another step behind me, I took a breath and let it out. We were almost to the top, and all I wanted was to go home. “Edden, can I give my statement later?”
Eye to eye with me, he nodded. “Go home. I’ll send someone tomorrow.”
“After noon, right?” I reminded him, wobbling when the stairway opened up and the tight confines of the small room took us. The cold was worse up here, and I clenched my coat closer. I’d never be warm again.
“You okay, Rachel?” Ivy asked.
I exhaled heavily, thinking of Jenks and missing his support. Making a face, I leaned harder on Ivy’s arm and started to shake. I was cold. My feet were numb and would probably have cuts when they thawed out. And Kisten’s death, once safely removed from my mind, had reached out and bitch-slapped me with all its broken promises and shattered beauty.
“No,” I said, wondering if I’d have to walk all the way back to the coffee shop in my bare feet. Edden followed my gaze to my bruised, white toes, and after murmuring something about socks, he set the lantern down and left me with Ivy. Alone at last, I caught Ivy’s eyes. She saw my fear, and they dilated. “While I was unconscious, I remembered the night on Kisten’s boat,” I whispered. “All of it.”
Ivy’s breath caught. Outside I could hear Edden on his radio yelling for a car to come the hell back and pick us up.
I swallowed hard, barely able to force the words out. “Kisten’s murderer had been in the tunnels before he came to take Kisten’s last blood,” I said, my soul as cold as the snow drifting in. “That’s what I’ve been smelling,” I added as I dismally brushed at the filth on me. “It’s this damned dust. He’d been in it, and it was all over him.”
Ivy didn’t move. “Tell me,” she demanded, her eyes black and her long hands clenched.
I gave her an evaluating look, wondering if this might be better at home with some wine, or even in a car with some privacy, but if she was going to vamp out, I’d rather have a few dozen FIB agents with guns around. Voice low, I said, “The vampire had come for Kisten, and I was in the way. Kisten died from a blow to the head before the vamp could do more than sniff his blood. He was really mad,” I said, my voice going high so I wouldn’t start crying again as I remembered his grip on me and my helpless rage, “but then he decided to make me his shadow to hurt you. Kisten woke up…”
Blinking fast, I wiped the sting of tears from my scraped cheek as I remembered his confused eyes and his angelic grace. “He was beautiful, Ivy,” I said, crying. “He was innocent and savage. He remembered he loved me, and on that alone he tried to save me, save us, the only way he could. Remember, Jenks said I told him Kisten bit his attacker? He did it to save us, Ivy. He died in my arms as his attacker ran away.”
My voice broke and I went silent. I couldn’t tell her the rest. Not here. Not now.
Ivy blinked fast. It almost looked like panic in her slowly widening pupils. “He killed himself to save you?” she asked. “Because he loved you?”
I clenched my jaw. “Not me. Us. He chose to sacrifice the rest of his existence to save both of us. That vampire hates you, Ivy. He was going on and on about how you were Piscary’s queen and he couldn’t touch you, but killing Kisten wasn’t enough, and how he was going to make you pay for his going to jail and living off discarded shadows for five years.”
Ivy backed up. Frightened, she put a hand to her throat. “It wasn’t someone who went to visit Piscary. It was someone who was in jail at the same time,” she whispered.
Her eyes went utterly black in the dim shadows of the lantern-lit room, and I stifled a shiver. “The psycho was going to kill everyone you had ever loved, including your sister, just to hurt you. After Kisten bit him, he ran away. He fell off the boat. Kisten didn’t know if he got enough saliva in him to start a rejection of the virus. He might still be alive. I don’t know.” Drained, my voice trailed off at the end.
For a moment, Ivy said nothing. Then she turned to the door, yanking it open with enough force to send it crashing into the wall.
“Edden!” she shouted into the snowy darkness. “I know who killed Kisten. He’s down here. Bring me another flashlight.”
Thirty-three
It’s Art. It’s got to be Art,” Ivy said as she paced beside me in the empty tunnel, fretting a
t my slow pace. We’d make faster time if she carried me, but that wasn’t going to happen.
“Why are we just now hearing about him?” Edden asked, and I blanched as she turned her anger-black eyes to him.
“Because I’m a stupid ass,” she said caustically. “Any more questions?”
“I don’t understand why you didn’t recognize his scent,” I said to distract her, but having her glaring at me wasn’t a vast improvement.
Ivy took a slow breath. The shadows of Mia’s lantern moved with us, making it seem as if we weren’t moving at all. Edden had his own flashlight, and I was shaking too much to hold one. The FIB captain had predictably wanted us to wait for a car, but Ivy was predictably so sure she knew where he was that she headed down before they could get back here. So of course we predictably went with her. At least I had Edden’s socks on now, something I hadn’t predicted but greatly appreciated.
Slowly Ivy eased her tension, and once calm, she answered, “It was five years ago, and smells change, especially when you go from living in a nice house in the city to a dank hole in the ground. He was my I.S. supervisor.” Ivy clenched her jaw, seeing not the darkness ahead of us but her past, fidgeting so subtly that only Jenks or I would notice. “I told you, remember? I put him in jail for one of Piscary’s accidental deaths so I wouldn’t have to sleep with him to move up in the I.S. hierarchy.”
My eyes narrowed, and Edden took an aggressive stance. “Y-you…,” he stammered. “That’s not legal,” he added.
Ivy was nonplussed. Unvoiced thoughts flitting behind her eyes, she glanced at me and said, “Vampires have a different outlook on legal.”
It was making a lot of ugly sense, and a slow burn of anger took root as I hiked my coat closer and put one cold foot before the other. The deeper we went, the thicker the dust and dirt were. “So you put him in jail for Piscary’s crimes, and then got demoted to me, huh.”
Ivy jerked. Mouth open in embarrassment, she said, “It wasn’t like that.”
“Yes it was,” I said, hearing the bitterness as my words echoed back. “I was your punishment. No one puts a witch working with a vampire. I wasn’t blind those first few weeks until you…lightened up.” I was shivering violently, but I wasn’t going to go back and wait in a car.
Shadows on her face, Ivy looked at me. “I could have gone to the Arcane. I chose to be a runner. That I was assigned to you is one of the best things in my life.”
Edden cleared his throat uncomfortably, and my face warmed. What could I say to that? “Sorry,” I muttered, and she looked ahead.
“Ivy?” Edden’s voice was tired. We’d been walking for a good five minutes. His radio wasn’t working, and I knew he wasn’t happy. “No one is down here. I understand your desire to search, but they inspect the tunnels every year. If there was a vampire here, living or dead, they would have found evidence of it by now.”
Ivy glared at him as if he might turn around and walk off. “Who inspects the tunnels?” she said, determination etched on her tight brow. “The FIB? Humans? Inderlanders made these tunnels as much as humans did. There will be oubliettes for destitute vampires. A place to hide before hope is abandoned to the sun. Art is down here. I’ve been searching the city for three months. I wasn’t looking for him, but if he was around, someone would have seen him.” Her face went frighteningly still. “It’s the only place left.”
Edden stopped, placing his feet wide, tucking his flashlight under his arm, and becoming immovable. He took a breath, and suddenly Ivy was right in front of him. Surprised, he let his breath out and backed up a step.
“Don’t think you’re big enough to get me to go upstairs so you can come down here and find him yourself,” she said softly. “You won’t find the safe hole without me. If you ask the I.S. for help, they will walk right on by and come back without you later.”
She was right, and I shifted to stand on my other foot as Edden thought about it. Clearly bothered, he exhaled long and slow. “Okay. Five more minutes.”
We started off again, Ivy bolting ahead before she remembered me and slowed down. I ought to be in Carew Tower partying the new year in, but no, here I was, slogging under the city looking for a dead vampire. Anger was what was keeping me moving now. Ford had said I was a good person. It was what I wanted to be. I wasn’t so sure anymore that he was right.
With no warning, Ivy’s head came up and she stopped, breathing deeply. The lantern in her grip swung to make fast shadows, and the whisper of our feet echoed eerily as Edden and I stopped. Adrenaline jabbed me. My roommate smelled the air, backtracking a few steps with her hand running at shoulder height along the uniform wall.
Her eyes were black in the gloom, and I picked up the lantern when she set it down to run both hands against the stone.
“Close,” she whispered, and I stifled a shudder when she moved to the other side of the tunnel’s wall with that vampire speed. “Here.” My heart pounded at the raw hatred in her voice. Edden and I came nearer, lights held high. My shadow stretched behind me, and I shivered again.
The wall looked utterly unmarked, apart from a small indentation where someone had chipped a hunk of stone away, but if it was a vampire oubliette, it wouldn’t have a neon arrow pointing to it. It was going to be a secret door, and it was likely locked.
Ivy put her fingers in the indentation and pulled. Nothing happened. Her head came up and she tossed the hair from her cold, dark eyes. Damn, she was ready to vamp out. “Please get this door open for me, Rachel,” she whispered.
Okay. If it was a door she couldn’t open, it was going to be witch magic, which meant I was going to have to cut my finger or tap a line. My thumb felt the rough edges of the cut on my finger as I thought. Drawing blood while she was like this was not a good idea, but tapping a line was going to hurt.
I looked at the door and placed a hand on it. Speak, friend, and enter, ran through my mind, and I choked back a bark of laughter. “Nice,” I said when a quiver in my middle brought forth a twin pull from the magic stored in the door. The wall had been built with a ley line charm in it. Buried in the concrete was one hell of a charmed circle of iron. I’d have to tap a line.
My hand dropped, and I got a sick feeling. Whatever was behind the door was going to be nasty. “It’s a charmed door,” I said, glancing from Ivy to Edden, and the squat man frowned.
“What’s that?” he asked, looking defensive.
I shifted uneasily. “Just what it sounds like. Remember when I told you that all Inderland magic runs on witch magic?” I thought of the elves, and added, “Mostly, anyway. Vampires love witch magic. They use it to look young after they die, to call demons to beat up helpless witches, and when they want to hide themselves, they use it to lock themselves in.” I was going to have to tap a freaking ley line, but a little pain would be a small payment for finding Kisten’s killer.
Edden tucked his flashlight under his arm and angled it to the line between the wall and the floor. There was a shifting of dust to show where the door had been opened once, how long ago was up for debate, invisible unless you were looking. Hand shaking, I put my palm against the smooth rock. The FIB captain’s bulk shifted to take an aggressive stance by the door.
“Edden,” I complained, “if there is an undead vampire in there, he will kill you before the door even finishes opening.” Ugly, but true. “Back up.”
The FIB captain frowned. “Just open the door, Morgan.”
“Your funeral,” I muttered, then took a deep breath. This was going to hurt. My fingers were numb from the cold, and they cramped as I pressed them deeper into the stone. Taking a breath and gritting my teeth against the coming pain, I locked my knees and tapped a line.
I gasped, jerking straight as the line hit me. I tried not to, but I did.
“Rachel?” Ivy said, close and concerned.
My stomach was rolling, and I panted to keep from vomiting. The undulating surges of power from the nearby line were making me seasick, and every nerve felt the power grating
across it. “Fine,” I gasped, unable to even think of the right words. There were three charms that were generally used, and my dad had taught me them all, plus one that wasn’t used except for the most dire situations. Oh God, this was awful.
I took a heaving breath and held it, fighting to think past the pain and dizziness. Ivy’s cool hand touched my shoulder, and my breath exploded out as I felt her aura slip to cover me, soothing.
“I’m sorry!” Ivy shouted, her hand leaving me, and I almost fell when the pain returned.
“No,” I said as I reached to grasp her hand and the pain again vanished. “You’re helping,” I said, watching her fear that she’d hurt me replaced with wonder. “It doesn’t hurt when I’m touching you. Don’t let go. Please.”
There in the lamp-lit dark, she swallowed hard and her fingers in mine became firmer. It wasn’t perfect. I could still feel the waves of ley line coming at me, but at least it wasn’t so raw and the agony across my nerves was muted. My thoughts returned to last Halloween, when she had bitten me that last time. Our auras had become one before she lost it. Was I seeing a lingering effect of that? Were Ivy’s and my auras the same? Able to protect each other when one was compromised? Was it love?
Edden stood beside us, not sure of anything, and taking a steadying breath, I put my free hand more firmly on the door.
“Quod est ante pedes nemo spectat,” I whispered, and nothing happened.
I shifted my feet. “Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?” I tried again, and still nothing.
Edden scuffed his feet. “Rachel, it’s okay.”
My hand quivered. “Nil tam difficile est quin quaerendo investigari possit.” That one did it, and I pulled my hand back when I felt a quiver of response rise up from the charm buried in the cement and ping through my soul. Nothing is so hard that it can’t be found by searching. It figured that it would be that one.
I stepped back and dropped the line, and Ivy searched my face before she let go of my hand and I fisted it. Edden put his fingers into the curve of the handle and pulled. The door cracked, and Ivy flung herself back with her hand over her face.