Journey into Darkness
ELOISE
“We could hot-wire it,” Maeve says.
“And drive it where?”
We’re standing in the garage, staring at Denardi’s Maserati. Earlier, after watching a YouTube video, I figured out how to unlock the gearshift and put the thing into neutral without starting the ignition. The keys, I assume, are in Jared’s pocket, somewhere near his dead body, wherever the river carried him. I pulled my Jeep out and used it to nudge the Maserati into my garage, closing it off from the outside world in case Agent Fuller pays me another visit. Then all the adrenaline drained from my body, and I passed out for eight hours. Maeve had to wake me when she got to the house for our usual lesson.
She adjusts her glasses on her nose. “I don’t know. Somewhere that isn’t associated with you.”
I shake my head. “If we move it, we risk someone seeing it.”
“There’s already the risk that someone saw it when he drove it here. It’s not like the tiny town of Echo Mills sees many Maseratis.”
I rub my still-aching face. My entire body hurts. Large red welts mar my wrist and upper arm. Half my face is black and blue. Even my back hurts. I lean against the door to the house, barely holding myself up. “Maybe we should just leave it here. I’ll be gone after tomorrow anyway.”
Maeve turns toward me with a start. “And then you’ll be back. You’ll go and then come back with Damien. You don’t want this car here when you’re back.” Her eyes are wide, and the words rattle out of her mouth, laden with anxiety. It’s the first time Maeve has seemed genuinely shaky about our plan.
“Well, I hope so obviously. But there’s always the chance?—”
Her phone rings. She holds up one finger and pulls it from her pocket. Her face pales a shade whiter than its usual alabaster. When she lowers the phone, she’s shaking her head. “That was my Gowdie informant. The FBI has eyes on your front yard. They saw Jared drive in here but haven’t seen him leave. Agent Fuller is coming tomorrow to question you about it.”
I close my eyes and groan miserably. “That’s the last thing I need, Maeve. Can’t you delay him somehow?”
She drums her nails on the screen of her phone. “Oh sure, I’ll just call the FBI and tell them the date is inconvenient for you. How’s that, pumpkin?” Her voice is soaked in so much sarcasm it almost physically burns.
I fold my arms. “So what do we do with this car?”
Shadows coalesce, and Cassius forms beside us. He takes one look at my face and growls. “What’s happened?”
I give him the short version.
He whistles. “As proud as I am that all our training has paid off, I hope Maeve can heal you. It will be hard to convince a blood brothel to take you in this condition.”
“Yeah, I can fix her right up,” Maeve says tersely. “Unfortunately, she might be in handcuffs tomorrow if we don’t figure out what to do with this car.”
Cassius ignores her attitude and turns to me. “The answer is simple. I drive the Maserati into the caverns under your house.”
Maeve shakes her head. “The FBI has cameras on the property. They’ll see you.”
“Do you have a photograph of the attacker?” Cassius asks.
I pull out my phone and Google Jared Denardi, then show the resulting picture to him. Seconds later, a man who looks surprisingly like Jared climbs into the Maserati and starts the engine.
I punch the button to open my garage, and a disguised Cassius backs down the driveway. As far as the FBI is concerned, Jared has left the building.
Maeve opens the door to the house. “Come on. Cassius is right. We need to get you healed up.”
After everything, we all decide it’s not safe for me to stay at Harcourt Manor. If someone comes looking for Jared, either another Denardi or Agent Fuller, I might not make it to the auction. The madams only come up from Night Haven for new blood once a month. I can’t miss this one.
Damien has been down there far too long as it is. Although I believe he’s alive because I can still feel the bond between us, it’s like someone has lodged a pebble in a chamber of my heart. It will never beat the same until the day he’s free. I’m done waiting. I’m done begging for help. Tonight I go after Damien myself.
After I pack a single bag made up of tactical gear, courtesy of Cassius, along with a few regular outfits, I give Maeve the tightest hug I can. Then Cassius and I climb into my Jeep, Phantom curled in the back, and we leave Harcourt Manor. He drives until the sun threatens a silvery glow on the horizon, when I take the wheel and he recedes into the shadows of the back seat. He has a friend, someone in the Lamia coven’s network, with an apartment in the Dakota building in Manhattan.
We spend the day there. At twilight, we take a cab to a nightclub called Wicked Divine.
“How exactly will this work?” I ask as the cab comes to a stop in front of the club. I’m feeling jittery. “You called it an auction. Am I going to be led out on a stage and bid on like a piece of furniture?”
