City Of Souls (38 page)

“I don’t know what you’re looking for over there,” I told Hunter softly, “but I hope it’s worth it.”

It was probably the dim lighting, but tears may have sparkled in his eyes. I looked at the small rips dotting his flesh like a new constellation. They’d scar, I thought, putting my finger to one and wiping the blood away. Injury from conduits always did. “Jo—”

I sniffed, and cleared my voice, focusing on the safe’s dial instead of him. I lined it up with the Leo glyph, Regan’s sign. I wanted to be sure it took her soul and not Hunter’s. “You’ll skip the worst of it by using Regan’s soul in lieu of your own. I guess you figured that out.”

And only now did I realize that was why Warren initially sent me to find Skamar. She’d originated in Midheaven, so she knew how to enter, and what it cost. Ah, well. At least I’d lived long enough to learn that. I sniffed. “So, that’s good, because it really hurts. But you need to know about the drink. Hunter, the drink. You’ll be dying of thirst, literally, but the minute you sip from that shot glass, you become a part of that world. Do you understand?”

He nodded, and that possible tear fell.

“And don’t play poker,” I said, voice cracking. I cleared my throat. “It’ll remove bits of your power, and you won’t have them when you return.” If he returned. I felt tears starting to well suddenly too. Everything was happening so fast! How could this be good-bye? A year ago I’d been outside of the troop and he’d been firmly planted within. How could our fortunes have reversed so suddenly?

I wanted to ask, but his expression had sharpened. “Wait, you played? You
lost?”

“It doesn’t matter now.” I paused, thinking I heard something far away, closer to the mouth of the tunnel than our placement there at the core. Far off, but not far enough.
Warren
. But there was so much more! “Watch out for Mackie, he’s the piano player, I promise you can’t miss him. There’s also Harlan Tripp, you probably heard of him—”

“Harlan doesn’t worry me.” He wiped sweat from his brow, let his hand trail down his face.

I nodded, and though my throat was tight, I thought, I can do this. I could let this man go. Everyone should have their greatest desires, right?

But what if he is yours?

I pushed the thought away by pulling on the concrete window. The candle was there, still burning, still appearing newly lit. “But the person you have to be most careful of, Hunter, is the woman you saw when we…when we…” I couldn’t reference the way we’d made love, so instead I referenced our other connection. “In the aureole. She’s beautiful, yes, but so dangerous. Her name is—”

“Solange.”

“That’s right.” My brows drew down. Had that been in the aureole too? “And Jacks will be with her. He’s a big motherfucker, and he’s from here too. He’ll know of you, of course. Solange and he are—”

“Married,” he said softly. “He’s her husband.”

“Yes, he—” I froze, mouth open, all the blood in my body pooling in my toes. Hunter steadied me when I swayed. Regan snorted under my feet. Jaden Jacks…

Is standing right in front of me.

And despite the unearthing of that knowledge, the easy click of nonsensical pieces falling into place, a part of me felt numbed, dumbed. I didn’t believe. “H-How am I able to talk to you about Midheaven? How can I provide all these details now, and not before. I haven’t been able to tell anyone else. How—”

An undercover identity to lure women. One woman in particular. Dark-haired. Dark-eyed. A type.
Just like Solange
.

“Oh, my God.” He’d returned to her as soon as Warren opened Midheaven, but he’d been plotting it long before that. Woodenly, I looked down. And Regan had been a part of that plot. And despite both those women…

He still made love to you
.

“Oh my God,” Regan mimicked, voice muffled. “It just keeps getting better and better.” Hunter kicked her this time. She grunted.

Hunter was Jaden Jacks. Hunter had already been in Midheaven. And I finally knew Hunter’s greatest desire.

Solange.

Had Warren known this?

Solange.

“Look, I’ve been searching for Sola for a long time…”

Sola?

“But I’d changed my mind. I wasn’t going to go. And then last month. You chose Ben.”

I tilted my head, not understanding.

Hunter squinted like he was in pain. “I asked you to forget. To be present and stay with me, and when you left…”

He’d made a deal with this she-devil.

The realization must have blanketed my face. I know the scent of my distress had to be reverberating like aftershocks against the walls of the confined space. Hunter’s head jerked from side to side. “No, it’s not what you think. There’s more. So much more that you don’t know—”

I held up a hand and laughed without humor. “Please, I don’t want to hear any more. And you don’t need to explain. I saw her, remember?” He said nothing. I looked up into his face, forcing him to meet my gaze. He did so somberly. “I mean, it’s where you want to be, right? You still want to go?”

He swallowed hard. “Yes, but—”

“Then go.” I hated how flat my voice sounded, like nothing lived inside of me. I hated the way I used Regan to push away his words and my pain. I grabbed the gauze circling her neck to lift her to her feet—ignoring the way her skin gave unnaturally beneath my grip—and propped her between us.

“Your death,” I muttered to her, “is going to be a relief.” For us all.

Regan didn’t answer, and I realized it was probably as close to an agreement as we’d ever come. I looked into her deadened gaze one last time, inhaled lightly of the rotted scent, and knew that, Tulpa’s touch or not, Regan had been this gone from the first. Dying even while she was being birthed. Wanting to cause destruction because she was destruction, decay, poison…and the enemy of love. She was pure Shadow.

“Here’s your candle.” I handed it to Hunter, though I guess he already knew how this worked, then pushed Regan in front of the small window, though I guess she did as well. She’d already provided him with a third of her soul…at least! “And you blow.”

I looked at Hunter and he stared back over the top of Regan’s ruined head. I still couldn’t put it together. Hunter was Jaden Jacks. Jacks was Hunter.

“One more thing,” he said, as an uneven scrape sounded below and behind us. Warren was getting closer.

“Please. No.” I didn’t think I could take another surprise tonight.

“This is important.” He put his free hand on my arm. I looked down but he didn’t move it, so I looked up and met his gaze. “Don’t believe him,” he said softly, almost like he really cared. “Warren, I mean. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with you. Not even in the darkest corner of that beautiful soul.”

I was unsure what to say to that, not that it mattered. I’d never get words past the lump in my throat. Besides, there
was
something wrong with me. Hunter just didn’t know about the pieces of myself I’d left in that other world. I might have told him, but Regan was weary of waiting, of standing…probably of living.

“Enough with the long good-bye,” she said, leaning forward. “Fuck you both.”

It was different than when I’d blown the candle out myself. My arms were dragged forward in the sudden, thickening smoke, like the muscles were being pulled out through my fingertips, causing a terrible tickle to work its way back into my body, but I didn’t release Regan. And she, in turn, grabbed onto me, the bones of her still-tensile fingers digging into my skin, strong enough to pierce skin and draw blood. I imagined its infection as her rotting body clung to mine. Even while trading an opened-mouth kiss with death she was attempting to drag me along. Then a pained gasp fled her mouth, and the smoke hissed like it was alive. Then nothing. An absence beside me, though nothing could actually move in that choking muck. It was like a metro turnstile, making sure only one person passed and paid at a time, and as Regan’s soul wheeled away, yanked from her body to be used as fuel for another world, her scream sounded, like fangs on a chalkboard. Another moment, no more or less, and the smoke cleared. The candle burned anew in the center of the shelf. And Hunter was gone.

I looked down at Regan, limp in my arms.

“You have caused me, and the men I’ve loved, a lot of trouble,” I told her carcass.

It’s what I do
, I could practically hear her say as I stared down at what was essentially dust held together by blood and bile, and I knew some of her spirit yet lingered.

“Not anymore,” I told it. And I let her body fall. The kill spot that would forever lay at the entrance to Midheaven wasn’t mine or Hunter’s, but Regan’s. It’s what I’d long wanted. And everyone, I thought, standing alone, should have their greatest desires.

Right?

I met Warren fifty yards from Midheaven’s candle, just past another concrete cutout, like the one I’d hid in from the Tulpa and Regan. Though I couldn’t say why, I wrapped Hunter’s whip around that, safely out of sight. Maybe Hunter would return. If so, it was a part of him and would call to him. I cradled my crossbow. At least I had that back.

Warren appeared, another deeper shadow in the dark, and I fired my glyph to let him know where and who I was. He increased his pace, his lopsided gait even more pronounced in the pipeline’s frame, and for a moment it was like looking at him through binoculars. I felt far away and as if I didn’t know him at all. Then he drew closer.

“Are you okay?” he asked, then sighed, relieved, at my nod. “Where’s Hunter?”

“Gone.” I said nothing about knowing Hunter’s true identity. In fact, I just stared at Warren, the niggling I’d felt in the kitchen and at Midheaven’s entry shifting into a full-blown tingle. It would be nice, I finally thought, if he would finally share something, any truth, with me. Instead he pushed past me and went to look for himself. “I said he’s gone.”

“And Regan?” he asked, leaping to peer over the ledge. His voice echoed back like it was trapped in a drum. “Oh.”

After a moment of hesitation—I think he was trying to climb up without touching the Shadow’s remains—he disappeared. Curious—though perhaps a better word was wary—I followed. There wasn’t a whole lot of room with Regan’s body still sprawled on the floor, but I kicked her aside so I could see what he was doing. “What’s that?”

“A new lock,” he said, securing it over the small latch. He’d been carrying another lock? In his pocket?

I thought of Harlan Tripp, his body set to a slow boil for eighteen years. “Hunter is over there.”

I waited, and finally realized he wasn’t going to answer. And I knew then what he was doing here, why he followed…why he allowed me to follow Regan and Hunter in the first place. He’d already planned to trap Hunter on the other side of that entrance, just as he’d trapped everyone else before. He wasn’t here to save me as much as he was tying up loose ends. Namely?

The man I’d started thinking of as my boyfriend.

“You set him up,” I said as he turned to me. “You found out Hunter was acting in tandem with Regan, but instead of confronting him about it, you turned around and made her a better deal.”

I could practically hear his offer.
Betray Hunter, Regan, and I’ll give you a shot at the Kairos
. He’d had an opportunity to remove Regan from this planet, as a threat, and from my life. And he’d chosen to use her as a means to another of his hidden ends instead.

I said, “You were once adamant about none of us going into Midheaven. You said it was twisted, and that it twisted people in turn.”

“And now you see that I was right.” He motioned for me to follow him.

I didn’t move. “Yes, but you refused to even acknowledge that it existed. And then you sent me there. So why did you open it up now?”

Warren tilted his head. “Because I saw what Ben did to you. How sad you were, how screwed up. I don’t want you distracted again.”

I ignored the sad and screwed-up remarks because they were inarguable. What I did take exception to was his determination that Hunter was a distraction.

He sighed heavily and shook his head, like I was a teenager putting on a good pout. “It’s for your own good. Now let’s go.”

I looked back at the lock. “Take it off. It’s agonizing over there.”

“No,” he said flatly, and dropped back into the pipeline. “And here. You forgot this.”

He threw something up at me, and I fumbled as it hit my chest. My mask. I tied it over my eyes where I was so Warren wouldn’t see my hands shaking, my face crumpling. I heard his slap-and-slide gait as he moved out of the way, and I dropped down into a low crouch. He kept walking, still expecting me to follow, but I didn’t move.

“You know, superheroes never talk.”

He kept walking. “What?”

I spoke more loudly as I stood. “In the comics, I mean. You’ve got panels and pages of villains who get all this great dialogue, but the superheroes have to sit in silence and brood, you know?”

“What are you talking about?”

I took a step forward. “I’m talking about those not-talking superheroes.”

Now he sounded annoyed. “And?”

My eyes began to heat beneath my mask. The red glowed prettily off the wet concrete walls. “Let’s chat.”

He turned slowly, just his head, his body tense beneath his flowing trench. “About?”

“How about Hunter? How you knew all along of his callboy cover, that he was hunting for a dark-haired woman. For Solange.” I flashed back to Warren and Hunter arguing in the panic room, and how the weight of the argument hung in the air when I’d arrived. If I hadn’t been so preoccupied by my inability to heal, I’d have sensed it then. “And you also knew that Hunter was Jaden Jacks.”

His gaze was dead, his shrug an afterthought. We were both done with pretense. “Of course. I’m the one who gave him his new identity.”

“How did the others not know?”

“Ask Ben,” he said with a wry smile, because he knew I couldn’t. Ben’s memory had holes in it the size of moon craters. And Warren was intimating that he’d done that to his entire troop, without their knowledge, as well. He’d made them all forget about Jaden Jacks, just as I’d suspected. His smile made me want to puke.