“Where are we?” I asked. “What did we just drive through?”
“This is Tombstone Station. Basically the magical equivalent of the wrong side of the tracks. Sits right beside some of the most dangerous neighborhoods in Chicago. Even the gangs, mafia, and cartels don’t come here. Not the human versions of those, anyway. Doesn’t show up on any maps, and even satellite imagery shows nothing here. We drove through an underportal. It keeps this place mostly hidden from the human world. There are other areas and neighborhoods that are better hidden, but this one is where I have my safe house.”
“Hidden?” I glanced around in awe. “Like Freedman Academy?”
“Basically. If the academy is like most I’ve heard of, though, it’s hidden with spell work, rather than behind an underportal.This?”he said, gesturing around to the street. “It’s completelyhidden. Humans have a complete aversion to stepping foot here, and even if they did, all they’d find is an empty street.”
“But is it safe here?” I glanced at a willowy wraith hovering a few feet off the ground, its glinting black eyes locking on us as we passed.
“This time of day? Maybe. Maybe not.” He gave a short, humorless chuckle. “All I know is that no one who’s on the run ever stays at the Four Seasons. The darker, danker, more dangerous places are best. It’s why I have a safe house here. You go to a nicer human neighborhood, or worse yet a magical one? People answer questions when they’re asked. Here?” He shot me a grin. “Here, when someone asks a question, they get told to fuck off. That’s what you want if your professors or some other magical detective is after you.”
He pulled up to the curb and threw the car into park before leaning over to open the glove box, his muscled shoulder pressing against my side. He smelled like leather, ocean spray, and sawdust. It was the most masculine scent I’d ever smelled on a man.
He handed me a small spray bottle. “Use this. It’ll help if they’ve hired a shifter or werewolf tracker.”
“What is it?”
“Scent blocker. Synthetic hormones mixed with a scent-suppressing potion. Spritz it all over yourself. It’ll prevent any creatures with exceptional olfactory senses from tracking your scent.”
“I… I’ve never heard of this,” I said, then went about doing as he said, spraying my legs and moving up.
“Only more unscrupulouspeople tend to use this stuff, but it’s pretty nifty for undercover operations or if I’m tracking one of your kind. Don’t want to give myself away because I’m upwind of my target. Let’s go.”
He climbed out of the car, breath puffing out in a thin cloud as I quickly tucked the spray bottle into my bag and followed. The skyscrapers and apartment buildings around us towered high, keeping the early morning light from penetrating, which gave the street an even darker, more ominous vibe. I quickly rushed over to walk beside Declan, unable to shake the feeling of eyes on me. If Declan was worried about the area, he gave no indication of fear.
He led me half a block down to an alley, where we plunged even deeper into darkness. Two burly men stood a dozen yards down, one leaning on a steel slab of a door, the other standing in front of him. They seemed to be deep in conversation, until they noticed us walking toward them.
“Ey, look at this, Dom,” the one on the left said. He had a skull tattooed across his face that made him look like one of the Grim Reaper’s lackeys. “Got us a sweet piece of tail served up on a platter.”
“Looks like it, Danny boy,” the other said, kicking away from the wall. He had ratty hair and obscenely long incisors, longer than a vampire’s. Most likely a lion shifter who liked showing off by only shifting his teeth. Actually an impressive trick, but I was too terrified to give the difficulty of that much thought.
“Hey, my man,” the one named Dom said, nodding to Declan. “Give us each five minutes with that pretty little thing, and we’ll let you walk outta here with your guts still in your stomach. Maybe we—oh… oh, fuck! McClintoc?”
“That’s right,” Declan hissed, moving out of the shadows so fast, I could have sworn he’d teleported. He got in close enough before either shifter could react. In a flash, he shoved the barrel of his pistol under Dom’s jaw, forcing the fangs to painfully dig into the man’s own chin. “Been a long time, boys.”
Declan, teeth bared in anger, glanced from one to the other. “What did I hear you saying about my lady friend? Something fucking disgusting, I think? Wanna repeat that?” He pulled the hammer back on the pistol, and I clenched my bag tighter to my chest, terrified I was about to watch a man get his brains blown out with a silver bullet.
Danny took a step back, holding his hands up in surrender. “We ain’t mean nothing by it.”
“We…uh…we thought you didn’t come around here no more, Dec,” Dom said, terrified eyes angled down toward the gun beneath his gun.
“I typically don’t,” Declan hissed. “I prefer not to get the stink of the place on my clothes. But sometimes needs must. Now, what are two shitheads like you doing hanging around my safe house?”
The two hoodlums shared a quick panicked look, before Dom sputtered a response.
“We been watching out for your place.Yeah.Yeah, that’s what we been doing. Making sure nobody fucks around or tries to break in. Please don’t shoot me, Dec. We ain’t never stepped on your toes, my man.”
“Right!” Danny yelped. “We were watching over your place.”
Declan lowered the gun and took a step back. “That’s mighty fine of you two fuckups. Now, I’ll let you get on your way.”
Both men visibly relaxed, shoulders slumping and chests heaving. Who was this man I’d come to for help? How could a human inspire this kind of fear in two supernatural creatures that, by any measure, should be able to kill him in seconds? It was actually kind of fucking hot to watch.
“Thanks, Dec,” Dom said, holding his hands up and slowly moving down the alley.
“Hang on one second,” Declan said, eyeing the men. “You need to apologize to my friend here.”
Both men’s eyes sprang open wide. The skull tattoo on Danny’s face made him look even more ridiculous with that expression.
