Darkness Falls: Reveler Series 1 (10 page)

His joke didn’t make her laugh. Trouble was brewing in her eyes, the implications compounding. Finally she said, “Right. Let’s go.”

She kissed her sister, warned her on pain of death to be safe, and made certain that Mr. Conner—Coll—would see that she didn’t get into trouble. But Jordan was quiet on the drive over to her office—they took Rook’s car—quiet through the parking garage, and quiet up the elevator.

The elevator door dinged open, but before she stepped out, she asked, “Is there a point to my going into work today?”

Rook didn’t lie. “A show of normalcy until other arrangements are made.”

“Hmm,” she said, and strode out.

The meeting in question, of course, was with none other than Millions himself, who was waiting in the same glass-and-chrome conference room where Rook had met her yesterday.

“No, you can’t go in with me,” Jordan said before he even asked.

“He could have a weapon,” Rook countered.

“He doesn’t have a weapon,” she replied irritably, “and what could you possibly do if he did?”

Rook didn’t want to answer that—it was a little too far down the rabbit hole even for Alice—but he settled for watching the conference room door from the discreet vantage point of an empty office.

He didn’t want to scare Jordan with all the things he could do, but he made damn sure Millions got a look at him before he angled out of direct sight.

***

“You should call the police,” Vince said immediately after the door shut behind her.

Jordan really wished she hadn’t asked for help and allowed him to look into Michael Reese yesterday. “He hasn’t done anything,” she said. “I’m sorry I bothered you with it. We should get on with my presentation for SpiderSly.”

“Forget SpiderSly. That man has harassed you. Stalked you. How did he get you to let him accompany you to work?”

Putting a hand to her head, she searched for a plausible explanation. Sighed. Went with a version of the truth. “Apparently, it’s his job to watch me. He was hired to follow me to make sure I’m safe. And that’s all I’m at liberty to say.”

Vince wasn’t buying it. “Hired by whom?”

Jordan had no answer for that. It was a crap story and she knew it, but better that than talk about Chimera.

Vince grabbed his tablet. Lit the screen. “Because I did look into him as you asked. Broke one or two laws to make it quick.”

Oh no. She should’ve skipped work today and let someone else present to Vince. She could be in bed right now, skewered by Michael, not Vince’s information.

“And Michael Reese isn’t even his real name.”

Quite suddenly, Vince had her full attention.

Likewise, he made a sound of satisfaction. “I bribed the
Envoi
for their security tapes, then did a facial recognition search, which brought up sealed records—don’t ask how I got into those.”

Jordan felt Michael watching her from the other side of the glass. She could just make out the hulk of his shadow.

“His real name is Malcolm Rook, and he’s got a violent history, starting with the death of his little brother Joshua some eleven years ago.”

Malcolm Rook. Yeah, that suited him better.

Vince showed her a black and white picture of a young boy. A boy that Jordan recognized. Just last night he’d flipped her on her back, straddled her, and had been about to strike before Mich— no,
Malcolm Rook
yanked him off her.

The boy was his little brother.

Had Rook been involved in his death somehow? Because he hadn’t been responsible. That much she was sure of.

Michael or Malcolm, whoever the hell he was, might have killed people in his line of work, like that marshal had suggested, but he was not a killer. Not like that.

“It was written up as an accident,” Vince continued, “but the situation was sketchy. Lots of questions. After that your friend there, Mal—” Yeah, she got it,
mal
meaning
bad
. “—ran away from home and survived on the streets by stealing and dealing silver. And then two years later he’s connected to another mysterious death, that of another street kid, this time dealing in bootlegged Rêve. After that, nothing. He has no record, not so much as a driver’s license. He drops off the face of the planet, until now, when he drops into your lap. My investigator suggests organized crime.”

Not organized crime, Jordan thought. Chimera.

And Malcolm Rook dropped off the face of the planet because he wasn’t permitted to live openly. It’s what had been worrying her all morning because it’d suddenly dawned on her that she wouldn’t be able to live openly, either. It’s why he was sticking close, because people knew where she lived and worked. Why they had to “talk”—he had yet to drop the bomb that she had to pack up and disappear. Mr. Conner, if that was his real name, would probably be suggesting the same thing to Maze, who was not going to cooperate no matter what threats he threw at her.

Vince touched her arm to catch her attention again. “Get away from him and stay away. In fact, I’d feel more comfortable if you came and stayed at my place for a little while. Separate rooms, of course. A little vacation.”

Huh. Vince actually was a reasonable option. He made sense.

Michael, or Malcolm, had lied to her, which made her tighten with anxiety, but the more she thought about it…she didn’t blame him. Either she trusted him or she didn’t. And if he had wanted to harm her or Maze, he’d had the opportunity several times.

“That’s a generous offer,” she said. “I need a little time to think about it.”

She didn’t need time—the answer was no—but putting Vince off seemed easier than refusing, which would beg other questions and concerns.

And if she was correct about what Rêve had done to her life, then it was pointless to come in to work tomorrow anyway. Messieurs Conner and Rook could deal with the local authorities when Vince put in his missing persons report about her.

Served them right.

“You don’t have the luxury of time, Jordan,” Vince pressed. “Malcolm Rook, a known criminal, sits a few yards from this room.”

She smiled reassuringly. “And as far as he knows, you’re just a client. Not a friend who’s helping me out.”

The friend thing seemed to work, because Vince relaxed. “I’d like to be more than a friend. Leave with me now. We’ll work out the rest as we go. You can even bring your sister. I know you don’t do anything without her.”

Jordan cooled at the mention of Maisie. “I’m not prepared to make a decision right now.”

“Well, I can’t very well let you leave with Malcolm Rook.”

Vince was smooth. Vince was polite and articulate. But for the first time, she heard the subtle break of a threat.

“There’s a simple way to resolve this.” Jordan stepped to the corner of the conference room, where she could signal Malcolm to join them so he could explain why he was there himself. Put
him
on the spot.

“The way to resolve this is to get the hell out of here, then call the police.”

Jordan wasn’t listening. She’d caught Malcolm’s eye—he straightened in his chair when he noticed her.

He didn’t seem to realize that his creepy little brother was back, this time in the waking world, standing with malevolent patience at his shoulder.

Oh dear God.

“Jordan, let’s leave together right now,” Vince was saying behind her. “I have people who can protect you.”

Aggravated, she half-turned, not taking her gaze from the boy, and waved Vince silent.

It was Vince’s body dropping to the floor that brought her attention all the way around.

CHAPTER SIX

“I told you we needed to talk,” Rook said. The elevator wasn’t coming quickly enough, so he directed Jordan to the stairs. She’d go even faster without those damn shoes.

“I’m freaking out here,” Jordan snapped. “You tell me what just happened right now.”

“You drowned him, is all.” Rook was reeling.
Holy hell, she drowned him.
“He’ll float back up to the surface sooner or later.”

Rook had propped him in a chair to sleep off the effects. With his head bobbing forward like that, Millions looked like he was reading something on his tablet. Not the file on Malcolm Rook, however. That had been deleted.

Aptitude
didn’t begin to describe the talent Jordan had.
Brilliance
got a little closer.
Genius?

“
Drowning
sounds like he’s dead.” Panic laced her every word.

Technically, she probably could kill if she wanted to.

Rook paused on the fourth floor landing. Looked her right in the eyes. “
Drowning
is Darkside lingo, that’s all. When we go under, it’s like going under water. Drowning someone means you shoved them deep into their dreams.”

“So he’s okay?”

Rook dodged. “He might move into a Rêve if he has access, and a guy like that probably does.”

She was on to him, because she asked again, “You’re sure he’s okay?”

“Yes.” He hoped. He’d have Coll follow up. Backup was probably already in the conference room. Rook had no idea where they’d take the unconscious body or what they’d tell Jordan’s office.

“Think about it, Jordan. I woke you up last night from inside a dream.” Hadn’t worked on Vince just now, though. “I can also put someone to sleep.”

The skill was tricky to master and it usually took a lot of experience. She’d basically pulled the carpet right out from under Millions with no effort.

“We can do things,” Rook said. “All Chimera can. Shared dreaming brings the abilities out.”

Her frown grew truly tragic.

“It’s going to be all right,” he promised. “I’ll make sure you’re all right.”

She shook her head.

If that wasn’t what was bothering her, then— “What? Tell me.”

She went steely. “I saw your brother again.”

Joshua. She’d seen him. “While you were awake?”

“Just before I…drowned Vince, but then Joshua disappeared right after. He was there, beside you, and now he’s gone again.”

Okay. “That’d be darksight. I already knew you had that.” More complicated was that she’d learned that the boy was his brother Joshua. Rook’s nightmare was not going away. It was manifesting for others to see. “I have darksight, too. It’s what allows me to track my Special Cases. It’s a good thing.”

“Seeing that boy is a good thing?”

“Good for you, yes. The fact that he’s there in the first place? No.” He gestured for them to continue down the stairs. “But Joshua is my problem. My bad history catching up with me. You might not be able to see him at the moment, but my guess is he’s still there and will be waiting next time I go Darkside. I’ll deal with him.”

It was an empty promise. He’d already tried, but nothing was working. Joshua was getting worse. Rook was going to have to at least tell Coll, now that Jordan knew. And Coll would understand Rook’s sudden shift to recruitment. He might question his stability. Might take him off handling Jordan.

And damn it, maybe that was a good thing. He didn’t want his past messing with her. He had no business screwing up her transition. It was hard enough.

Jordan descended the steps next to him. A couple of photographs nudged out of her purse. She’d taken what personal effects she could grab in thirty seconds. Another kitty, too. Must be a thing with her. Apparently she’d deduced that she wouldn’t be coming back to her office.

“I saw Blackman’s file on me,” Rook said. Better to have it out in the open.

Took a few steps, but finally, she began, “Did you—?”

When she didn’t finish, he turned to her again. “Did I what?”

“Nothing. Never mind. Let’s go.”

He didn’t know what exactly she’d intended to ask, but he went with the worst question that came to mind. The one that haunted him.

“Yes, Jordan,” he said. “I killed Joshua. He was nine. I was fourteen. I shoved him into the road, and he got hit by a car.”

“You didn’t mean to.”

“In that moment I was angry enough at him not to care, not to look both ways. It didn’t occur to me that anything could hurt him. I had no idea that he could actually die. Thought we were both fucking immortal.”

She’d frozen. Wasn’t breathing. Just looked at him with that expression of dismay, tears threatening to spill.

“Any more questions?”

She shook her head, and it sent one tear skating down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away.

Yeah, they were both having a shitty day. “Then let’s go.”

They descended the last floors in a silence made of her heels clumping and his occasional shuffling, and he pushed out the exit on P1.

When they were on the road, he called Coll to follow up.

Vince had been taken to the hospital, where he would be kept until he awoke. Doctors had been told to call it a stroke. Officially, Vincent Blackman was in a coma. Worst case, someone—a tracker—would have to go Darkside and find him. Bring him back to the waking world.