“You won’t have a problem with us having a look around, would you?” I ask, but the assertiveness I once held is gone.
“Not a problem at all. May I ask what it is you’re looking for?” Her head tilts to the side.
“We’re looking for a girl who recently escaped. We have reason to believe she was here,” 306 answers for me.
“Oh. We don’t get many visitors. But sure, have a look around. I’m putting together sandwiches. Would you care for one?”
“Yes,” “No.” 306 says as I say, “No,” at the same time.
I give him a disapproving look before clarifying. “We shouldn’t. After we have a look around, we’ll be on our way.” Winnie gives us a curt nod and heads back to the kitchen.
We find nothing in the living room, kitchen, or bathroom. Nothing indicating Kallie was ever here. I don’t understand. She was here. Isawit. Could I have seen a false image? Was she throwing me off her trail? But she had to have been here at some point, to know where this place was. It doesn’t make sense. None of it adds up.
Just when I’m about to call it quits, 306 walks out of their bedroom. “Uh, boss. I think you’re going to want to see this,” he says, holding up the raggedy patient gown Kallie was wearing when she escaped—when she vanished behind a door, and I watched her run free.
Why would I do that?
He hands me the garment, and underneath the mildew and whatever else is stained on it is the hint—so subtle I nearly miss it—of vanilla.
FOURTEEN
Kallie
There wasn’t a lot of time to get affairs in order. Thankfully, I pack light. However, there was something I never thought about until now, and I was made fully aware of it when Atticus insisted we take the food he purchased in town earlier.
Voraxis wasn’t very keen on the idea, but it is the only option—if I want to eat anyway.
Rushing back into town, Atticus and Odeyssa lead the way to a shop that looks otherwise abandoned. The door is nestled inside the stone wall, in the same alleyway I left Licorice. I never noticed it. And from the look of it, that’s the point.
Atticus bangs on the door twice, and there’s a small rectangular cutout that slides open just at his eye level. A set of eyes appears on the other side. “Password?”
Oh, you have got to be kidding me.
Atticus mumbles something to the guy, and the opening shuts instantly with a clang. A few moments pass, and I’m starting toget really antsy. I peer down the alleyway, certain each time I do, Callum will be waiting for me.
What’s wrong?Voraxis asks.
Just a bit anxious. This is taking longer than I thought.
Just say the word.
I giggle, knowing what he means. But I don’t think that will be necessary—not yet, at least. Finally, I hear the distinct sound of locks unlatching, and the door opens a crack.
Atticus wastes no time, barging in without a second thought. Odeyssa and I file in close behind, and when the door shuts and locks behind us, the panic starts to set in.
The shop is dimly lit, candles burn throughout the room, only allowing us to focus on a few items at a time. I pass rows of jars that could very well have been lifted from the stall from earlier—same weird trinkets inside, scattered, mismatched, like they’re hiding stories I’m not meant to know.
Various weapons hang on the walls, ranging from swords, daggers, knives, and others I’ve never seen before. Almost like they’re from the medieval times. Odeyssa remains close to Atticus, especially when I start to lag behind, appreciating all of the artifacts.
As I’m admiring the display case full of all kinds of jewelry, I’m interrupted by a very small and peculiar-looking woman.
“See something you like, deary?” she inquires, wringing her hands together close to her chest.
“Oh, no. I mean, yes, there are a few things catching my eye, but I’m just browsing,” I stammer, all of my words running together when she steps more into the light. She’s short, the top of her head barely reaching my boobs. Her nose sits crooked, but I can’t tell if she was born that way or if it’s been in far too many unfortunate accidents. There’s also a wart the size of my fist that has made a cozy home on her cheek, and it takes everything I have to not flinch at the sight.
“Browse away. The truest of the heart will guide your way to the sea of blissful dreams and nightmares,” she says with such conviction. All I do is stare then blink a few times, trying to conjure up some sort of reply that makes sense.
But I come up blank.
