Would I even come back to this? Foreboding thumped through my veins. Sure, I was visiting the Spires, but I couldn’t shakethe unease that had taken root in me ever since my conversation with Maury. Everything I’d looked up about Cillian Ashmore cemented my concern. The demon was commonly referred to as “The Beast,” due to the way he savaged other businesses. No one would dare steal from him or try to swindle him because the repercussions were deadly.
And he’d become more reclusive over the years, taking on fewer meetings, walking the casino floors less often, even though he lived in the upper levels of the Spires like a living wraith.
How I’d get ahold of him was a mystery. My ideas stalled apart from marching up and demanding an audience, but I had to try.
I stared at the cover of one of the books on my stack—a dark, forbidding castle with a strike of lightning in the background. Well, that was on the nose. I couldn’t shake the feeling it was the same atmosphere I’d be walking into.
Yet, I had to try.
Dad was still missing, and it had always been us against the world.
I glanced up at Laura, who was deep in conversation with a patron, and then I soaked in the stacks stretched out in every direction, the musty smell in the air, and the antiquated flickering lighting that had led to the joke of there being a ghost in the library.
I could only hope that after tonight, my life would remain the same.
That I’d find my dad and return here for my shift tomorrow.
The alternative was unfathomable.
But as anyone in Peregrine City understood intimately, life could take a drastic turn in mere moments.
Chapter 3
The subway rattled and hissed as it came to a stop at the station.
Casino Alley was what folks casually called this stop, but Strathmore Station was the official name. Peregrine City had been one of the first cities established after the Awakening, when the glamours keeping humankind unaware of the supernatural dropped, and the fissures between dimensions allowed monsters to cross into this world. A century had passed, and so little had changed on this continent, societally at least. While I’d grown up in the suburbs, a little town called Alder, this city was fascinating, teeming with history and haunts. The station itself smelled like rot, though, and I tried to ignore the sludge marks in the corners, which were questionable at best.
After all, many never returned from the Spires.
I patted down my slacks for the thousandth time, as if I’d actually find something there. Maybe I should be…well, carrying a weapon would feel a little ridiculous as I was completelyuntrained. Hunters might roam around packed to the gills with weapons, but they were schooled in their use from an early age. Books might impart knowledge, but they wouldn’t hold up against claws or fangs or guns. As I stepped out of the station and into the night, the sight of the Spires struck me speechless.
The casino was situated in an actual castle, built over the remains of a skyscraper that had been torn down. The forbidding structure created an even darker black stain against the black sky, only lit up in small sections by spotlights. Unlike other casinos along the way that were all neons and glitz with their flashing lights and sparkling exteriors, the Spires needed none. The structure attracted people like moths to a flame, and its reputation was as well known as the building itself.
And I planned on walking through those gates and demanding an audience with its owner, Cillian Ashmore.
Maybe I could inquire after my father with the staff. Get the information I needed without attracting the attention of anyone dangerous. However, the pit in my stomach didn’t dissolve as I wandered closer. The cold air chapped my cheeks and ruffled my hair, sending leaves skittering on the asphalt around me, and passersby rushed in every direction, the streets full in this district at night. Streetlights cast hazy lemon beams, but they didn’t penetrate through enough of the shadows that threatened to consume around here.
Every creak, every shuffle, every clatter startled me.
Maybe I should’ve spent more time investing in friends, not books, as beyond the casual workplace friendships I had, the only person who’d be looking for me if I vanished was the one who’d disappeared. Dad had been there for me my whole life, the only stable presence I’d had after my mom passed away. I needed him to be okay.
The slap of my boots against the pavement echoed, and I tugged my peacoat a little tighter as I wound down the streetsin the direction of the Spires, following so many others through those open gates. Instead of flashing neons like so many other casinos on this stretch, the Spires featured massive spotlights that spanned back and forth, illuminating the way.
My stomach twisted as I followed the cobblestone path that led to those open gates.
God, this was such a terrible idea.
So many people passed by me without even a cool glance in my direction, as if I were invisible, reminding me how much the loneliness ached sometimes.
A reminder of why I was here in the first place.
I shrugged the peacoat tighter, my stride quickening, as if I could race inside the Spire and it might not swallow me whole. The gaping blackened windows and the dark entrance looked unsettling, like a maw.
The scents of decay and rotten leaves quickly transformed into something cleaner the closer I got. The streets grew lighter, and the lamps multiplied to illuminate the path to the entrance with a steady glow. Grumbles, mutters, laughs, and shouts sounded around me, people jostling by on either side. Everyone headed in to gamble, whether for their first time or because they were a regular.
Maybe there was some subtler way to find my father, but I hadn’t grasped it yet.
I wasn’t sure I’d grasp it before I stepped through the main door either.
