“Portland, Oregon!” I shook my phone at him.
The men ran after me, some getting in the elevator with me while the rest took the stairs. We met up in front of the tracing room.
Odin grabbed my arm before I could go in. “Hold on, Vervain. We need to decide on a location.” He looked around. “Anyone know somewhere we can trace to in Portland?”
“Somewhere near the Asylum,” I said.
“There's an asylum in Portland?” Odin frowned.
“Uh, maybe, but I'm talking about a food truck pod. That's where they were seen.”
“Agwusi is taking a break to eat at a food truck?” Viper asked. “I kinda love that.”
“We can't just trace into the middle of a food truck pod,” Odin growled.
“I'll take us through the Internet.” Torrent went into the tracing room. “With a location in mind, we can go faster, and we can survey the area before I drop the vein.”
“Good idea,” Odin sounded relieved.
“Great, I'm glad you're pleased. Can we go now?” I motioned at the door.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Torr dropped the vein of Internet, depositing us on an empty Portland street. There was a commotion coming from the other side of the brick wall beside us. Thinking it was Agwusi, we hurried around the corner and into the Asylum food truck pod.
“What the hell?” I whispered.
People were pointing at the sky, most of them filming with their phones. They gathered under the only cover in the enclosure—a pavilion. They squeezed together as if playing a round of “The Floor is Lava.” Only a few were brave enough to hold their phones out beyond the overhang, angled up.
What were they filming? What were they terrified of? The rain. For Portlandians to be afraid of the rain, it had to be bad. I couldn't understand it at first. It was falling in roughly a fifteen by fifteen foot square area. Odd but not terrifying. Then I looked at the rain itself. It looked odd. I crept closer. That's when I realized it wasn't falling in drops.
“Are those raincubes?” Viper stuck his hand out, only to have Odin grab his wrist and yank it back.
“It's working to our advantage.” Odin strode deeper into the walled-in area, veering around the rain. “Come on! Split up and look for Agwusi.”
That jolted us into action, and we divided into two groups to race around the rain and search. We met up at the back of the food truck pod. Besides the trapped people, the place was empty, all the trucks closed. It certainly made our search easier. One pass was all it took to see that Agwusi wasn't there.
“She was seen in this area,” I said as my group rejoined the others. “Let's split up again and search the closest streets.”
We left the humans to their social media posts and ran out of the Asylum, the name more appropriate than usual. After searching for two blocks with Kirill and Trevor, I finally stopped a man walking his dog.
“Did you see a beautiful Nigerian woman with long dark hair. She may have been with a white man with short dark hair and blue eyes?”
The man's eyes widened. “You know, I've always wondered if I'd be helpful in a situation like this. I'm glad to say that I can help you. I saw those people just a block up.” He pointed behind him. “They were arguing. The woman looked anxious, and the guy looked mad. I would have intervened, but she looked as if she could take care of herself and wouldn't welcome the help.”
“Oh, she can,” I assured him. “Thank you so much. That man's my brother.”
“Happy to help.” He grinned and walked off with his dog, talking to the animal about the chances of that encounter, and wasn't that a nice lady?
I adore Portlandians.
We raced off in the direction the man had sent us, and sure enough, there they were. I froze, hardly believing it. Agwusi was gesturing wildly as Ty bent forward to speak to her, obviously furious. Trevor yanked Kirill and me into the alcove of a shop entrance.
“Do it!” Trevor hissed.
I frowned at him before I remembered what he'd asked me to do. Hesitating, I looked from the man I loved to the sidewalk.
“Vervain!”
