“She looks like a Barbie,” said the girl, peering around Sadowski. She sounded disappointed. “I thought you said she was ademon.”
Reed rolled his eyes. “I told you she washarboringa demon.”
“Well, where is it?”
“Jesus, Lydia,” snapped Sadowski. “She’s possessed. She’s not carrying it around with her in her purse.”
Lydia rose up onto her booted toes. “What’s in the box, then?”
“All of you, shut up.”
Jesse Grayson stood in the nearest aisle, flanked by a slender teen with a gunmetal array of facial piercings. Between them sagged the limp body of a boy. He was scratched all to bits, deep fingernail gouges scoring the skin around his eyes as though he’d done everything in his power to claw them out. Vivienne’s stomach turned over at the sight.
She’d recognize her handiwork anywhere.
“We loaded him up with benzodiazepine,” said Jesse. “Hopefully that mellows him out long enough for me to do a closer examination.”
This is A-d-r-i-a-n?Vivienne signed.F-a-b-e-r?
“Yeah,” said Jesse. “Adrian. That’s right. Are you happy, Vivienne? You got what you wanted.”
I didn’t want this.
“Vivienne?” Between Jesse and the teen, the boy picked up his head. It lolled heavily to the side as he fixed Vivienne in a glassy, faraway stare. “He told me you’re special,” he said, his speech softened by the quelling effect of the drug. “That if I wanted to rise in the ranks, I should do whatever you ask. Give you whatever you want. Make you happy, so you’ll come home.”
Reed stiffened. “What the hell is he talking about?”
“Look at you,” leered the boy, before anyone could answer. “You’re not special. I can see you clearly now that I’ve heard you. It’s like—it’s like a curtain has been pulled back. There’s death spilling out of you. You’re all maggots and mealworms.”
Vivienne thought of the way she’d come all apart in her dream. She knew that inside her was rot, but to hear it said aloud was like being flayed alive.
“Sadowski,” barked Jesse. “Help Diaz with Faber. Take him upstairs. I’ll be up a in bit.”
Jesse waited until everyone had filed out before rounding on Vivienne. “Did you bring it?”
“Idid,” said Reed. “Got it from Hudson last night, just before everything went south.”
He reached into his jacket and procured a little glass vial filled with a clear liquid. Jesse took it and turned it over, contemplating the label. It felt the tiniest bit ironic, how she’d gone to such great lengths for something so small. Ironic, how after weeks of plotting to rid herself of Thomas Walsh, he was all she could think about.
The last she’d seen of him, he’d been struggling to stand.
Had that been her fault? Hadshedone that to him?
“That’s that, then,” said Jesse, pocketing the vial. He sounded resigned. “Given your height and weight, it should take about two milliliters of ketamine to put you out and keep you out.”
“If he can find a vein,” muttered Reed.
Jesse shot him a look. “Don’t start. What’s in the box?”
“Glad you asked.” Reed shoved the box between them. Inside, the little brown bird continued to gasp for air. Jesse frowned down at it.
“What is that, a sparrow?”
“Seems to be.”
“What happened to it?”
Reed cut a glance toward Vivienne. She didn’t return it. “That’s the thing,” he said. “We’re not exactly sure. One second, Vivienne was standing therewithouta bird, the next—bird.”
