Omen and Temper dragged Caisson out through the front door of the Midnight Hotel, and Temper collapsed and Omen dropped to his knees beside him.
“Car,” Temper said. “Leaves. For the pain.”
Omen looked around. “There is no car. Temper, there is no car. Listen to me, I need your phone. Temper, please, your phone. I can call Never. I can call for help.”
Temper dug into his pocket, came out with the phone and unlocked it, then handed it over and lay back and blacked out. Omen jumped up, dialled a number –
– and Razzia snatched the phone from his hand and tossed it behind her.
“Oh, hell,” said Omen.
Nero walked by, stood over Caisson and nudged him with his foot. “He’s still alive,” he announced.
“She’ll be happy about that,” Razzia said, then looked down at Omen. “Where is she, mate? Where’s Abyssinia? I haven’t heard her voice in my head since she told me to come here.”
“She, um, she’s in there,” Omen said, jerking a thumb at the hotel.
There was another woman with them, a dark-haired lady with an angry scowl on her face. “Go get her, or we’ll kill your friend.”
Omen’s eyes widened. “No, no, don’t do that! I can’t get her – I don’t know where she is. Inside there, it isn’t like the inside of the hotel, it’s a whole other—”
“We know what Cadaverous can do,” Razzia said.
“All I know is that Cadaverous has Abyssinia,” said Omen. “They fought, kind of, and he … well, he beat her. And he took her away.”
Razzia frowned, and looked at Nero. “We’d better go in.”
Nero made a face. “In there? The old man will murder us.”
The scowling woman stepped forward. “Valkyrie Cain,” she said, “is she in there?”
Omen nodded, and the scowling woman turned that scowl on Nero. “We’re going in.”