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THE REFLECTION FROM THE moon shimmered on the Lake of Sins, giving the place an ethereal feeling. Trinity scanned the area one more time and dropped from the tree. She darted over to the statue of the little girl and the butterfly and ran her hands over the base. Nothing. She took a deep breath and tried again.
Jackson had halted the relocation of camp as soon as he’d realized that she and Hugh had left. When they’d returned, Jackson’s anger had been overshadowed by the looming threat. The Almightys wouldn’t take the freedom of the Guards from the Midtown Shelter lightly. Jason and the Council would retaliate and it’d be swift. They had to move deeper into the woods. Hugh had spent the day pouring over the maps of the area with Jackson and they’d finally settled on a location.
She’d slipped away while the others were packing the camp and had raced through the forest. This trip had to be fast. She needed to tell Kim where they were moving and then make it back before anyone missed her. Her fingers brushed a slight imperfection in the stone. It was smoother than the rest. She used all four fingers and pushed. A small door opened at the base of the statue.
Kim hadn’t been kidding about the size. It’d be a tight fit and she wasn’t eager to crawl inside of a dark hole, but strolling up to the house and knocking on the door wasn’t an option. She bent and peered inside. It was pitch black. Not even the moonlight trespassed inside the passageway. She listened but nothing moved. She couldn’t delay any longer. She slipped inside, hesitating a moment while her eyes adjusted to the darkness. She turned, running her fingers over the wall to find the lever that shut the door. She wasn’t taking the chance that a River-Man or Cold Creeper might find his way inside and hunt her in the darkness. She pressed a small bump and the door closed. She pressed it again and the door opened. She was safe. She shook the tension off her shoulders, hit the button one more time and turned, following the tunnel.
The path led downward, deeper underground. Nothing moved. No rats, mice or even bugs. It was cold and damp, like being buried alive. If she got stuck or hurt, no one would ever find her down here. Her breath came in pants and her heart pounded, telling her to go back but she moved forward. The passageway had to lead upward soon. Kim’s house wasn’t underground. For the first time in a long time, she wished she wasn’t alone. She wished Hugh were here with her.
As annoying as he was, he’d kept the journey from the shelter to camp upbeat and that hadn’t been easy. It’d taken them almost four days to detour around the swamp. At first, they’d moved fast. He’d been sure that the Almightys would be right behind them, but nothing had happened and that had worried him more.
Many of the Guards had never been out of the city. She’d tried to teach them about the forest, but they’d refused to listen to her. She was part House Servant after all. So, she’d stopped. Hugh had pestered her to continue her instructions, but she’d refused. If the idiots didn’t want to learn, then let them be food for the forest predators.
By the second day, Hugh had taken over their education but what he’d told them had been wrong. She’d spent their entire trip into the city lecturing him about the forest and he hadn’t paid any attention. She’d been so angry that it’d taken her a while to realize that every time she corrected him, the Guards showed her a little more respect. By that afternoon, she was instructing them and they were listening. Hugh had done that for her. He’d manipulated the situation so that these Guards, male and female, would accept and respect her. No one had ever done anything like that for her before and she wasn’t sure what to do with the feelings it created—gratitude, appreciation, friendship, loyalty and something more, something deeper that she couldn’t name.
The passageway ended at a door. This had to be the entrance to Kim’s house. Jethro’s house. She hadn’t been inside there since the Night of the Trackers. It’d be different—no bodies, no screams and no Trackers. Her hand trembled as she turned the knob. It opened quietly. A hint of grease hung in the air from a recent oiling.
She stepped into the Remore family basement. It was warm compared to the tunnel and not as dark. There were boxes stacked on the floor and shelves full of items that she couldn’t name. She waited, listening to the house. It was quiet, like a predator waiting for her to make the first move. She didn’t belong here. She was an intruder. She edged back into the tunnel and stopped. She had to control her imagination. It was late and Kim was probably in bed. Of course, she might not be home. The moon wasn’t full. Kim wouldn’t be expecting her. She took a deep breath. She was here. She had to at least see if Kim were home.
She closed the door to the passageway and forced herself to move across the basement and up the stairs. She stopped at the door. More silence. Things were only this quiet when danger was near. That wasn’t always true for houses, she reminded herself. Townsend’s home had been quiet, except for the steady sound of Hugh’s breathing and Sassy’s snoring, but she was alone now.
She put her hand on her knife. The sooner she got this done, the sooner she could leave. She opened the door. The moonlight painted the kitchen a soft yellow. It should’ve looked evil. This was where Viola’s remains had been cooked and plated. Her heart beat faster. It’d almost been her. She couldn’t do this. She’d find another way to talk to Kim. She closed the basement door and hesitated at the sound of a carriage pulling up to the house. It might be Kim, but it could be Kim’s mom or Jethro. Kim had said that he was home from college. She kept her ear next to the door. Footsteps came toward the house—two sets, one heavier than the other. They stopped at the front door.
“Thanks for dinner, Davies. I had a nice time,” said Kim.
Trinity’s shoulders sagged in relief. In a minute she’d tell Kim where they were moving camp and then she could go back to the forest where she belonged.
“Me too,” said Davies. “I hope it helped take your mind off...things.”
She stared at the door, as if able to see through it. Davies was a male. Kim wasn’t supposed to be with a male. Kim was supposed to be with Jackson. Her lips twitched. Jackson wouldn’t appreciate her phrasing it that way.
“Do you think your mom’s still awake?” Davies’ voice was a low whisper.
After a slight pause, Kim said, “She’s probably asleep by now. The lights are out.”
“I could come in for a while. We could...talk.” There was a hint of humor and something else in his tone.
This guy sounded like he was more than a friend. Jackson would be livid if he found out about this. She’d have to talk to Kim before her friend made a big mistake and messed up her relationship with Jackson. True love wasn’t easy. It took work and forgiveness, but it’d be worth it in the end.
“I...I...don’t think...”
Then there was silence. She tipped her head a bit. Nothing. She cracked the door open. There was some sort of sound. She poked her head into the kitchen. There was a slight moan. That guy could be hurting Kim. She moved a few steps out of the basement and stilled at the sound of their voices.
“Maybe next time, you can come over to my place. I’m an excellent cook,” said Davies.
“Ahh, maybe,” said Kim.
The two of them fell silent again. She hesitated. Kim hadn’t sounded hurt or scared.
“I’ve got to go,” said Kim. “Goodnight.”
The front door opened and closed and then footsteps moved across the living room. The steps stopped and there was a sigh followed by a flopping sound. Trinity crept across the kitchen, peeking around the corner and into the other room. Kim sat on the couch, her head resting against the back with her eyes closed.
“Psst,” whispered Trinity.
Kim jumped up, eyes wide and ready to scream.
Trinity leapt across the room, knocking a lamp off the table near the couch as she grabbed Kim, placing her hand over the other woman’s mouth. “Shhh. It’s me. Trinity.”
Kim nodded and Trinity dropped her hold and stepped back. Kim’s eyes were wide and her lips, red and slightly swollen.
She hadn’t pushed that hard on Kim’s mouth and then it hit her like a loaf of Gaar’s bread—the silence, the moan. Kim had been kissing Davies. “You should be glad Jackson didn’t come with me.”
Kim grabbed her arm. “Is he okay?”
Footsteps sounded on the stairs. Kim dragged her across the room and shoved her into the kitchen. Kim put her finger to her lips as she closed the door.
“Kim? What’s going on down here?” asked Jethro.
The blood drained from Trinity’s face. He was right there. She hadn’t seen him in years. She reached for the doorknob. She only wanted a peek.
“It’s nothing. I knocked over the lamp. Go back to bed.”
“I thought I heard voices,” he said.
He sounded older, more like an adult male and less like the boy she’d known.
“You must have heard Davies. I just got home.”
“Hmm.”
His footsteps started again, coming closer. He was off the stairs and in the living room now. Her hand trembled near the door. She shouldn’t do it, but she wanted a glimpse of him, to see how he’d changed over the years.
“How was your date?” he asked.
“Okay,” said Kim.
“Just okay?”
“Yes, Jethro. It was just okay. What more do you want from me? Davies is an Almighty and he’s nice, but...”
“He’s not Jackson.” Jethro’s tone was hard and flat.
“No, he’s not and I don’t even know if Jackson’s okay.” Kim’s voice cracked.
“He’s fine. He wasn’t in the city.”
“Don’t patronize me. You have no idea where he is or was.”
Jethro sighed. “We would’ve heard if he were captured.”
“I’m going to bed.” Kim’s footsteps stopped on the stairs. “Are you coming?”
Jethro inhaled sharply, twice. “Yeah.”
Trinity waited until the two Almightys were upstairs and then she darted into the basement. She had no idea why Kim was worried about Jackson. Something must have happened but she’d have to wait to find out what.