“This is so not going to work,” Tina says, for the fiftieth time.
We’re making our way through the abandoned subway tunnels that surround UWR. When New York City put in their subway, the uber-rich people like the Rockefellers didn’t want to use the same cars as the general population, so they built their own subway underneath the normal one, with stops directly under their own mansions and their most used destinations, like The Met. They’ve all been abandoned for a hundred years or more, and we’re surrounded by rotting opulence as Tina and I mark the path for our unlikely band of future escaped convicts.
What that really means is that I’m splashing sugar-laced blood all over fraying brocade and shattered crystals from fallen chandeliers.
“Are we done yet?” Tina asks, her hand covering her nose and mouth.
“We?” I ask, putting down my bucket of blood. “You say that like you’re actually helping. Can you not be around the blood, or what?”
She pulls her hand down, fast. “Um, excuse me, no. I have extreme self-control. I could swim through an Olympic-sized pool filled with blood and not lose my cool. I was born this way, not turned. But I can’t stand the smell of…that.” She eyes my bucket with contempt. “You polluted it.”
I sigh, picking it back up as we make our way down the tunnel to the next platform. “I told you, Griff and Tamika will be able to smell the blood and find the rendezvous without a light to give away their location.”
“And the sugar is for the pixie, yeah, I know,” Tina says, covering her mouth again. “But that’s not the only thing in there.”
I feel a little blush rising in my cheeks. “It’s pheromones, for Mac.”
“Pheromones!” Tina shrieks. “Oh my gods, Mavis, did you break into the sex closet?”
“It is not a sex closet,” I explain patiently. Although it did get the reputation honestly. We have to keep a supply of pheromones on hand for the incubus and succubus prisoners, or else they slowly dwindle away. Unfortunately, every now and then one of the bottles gets broken and whoever has to clean it up ends their shift as a panting, over-sexed, lust-driven lunatic.
Once a First Brood accidentally knocked a bottle over with one of her wings. They produce asexually, and she laid twenty-five eggs in there before someone found her.
“Disgusting,” Tina says, still eyeing my bucket as I dump the last of the blood into a puddle on our extraction point under Central Park. “And I mean this probably isn’t going to work, anyway.”
“So you said,” I sigh, and we turn back to retrace our steps.
“Oh good, Mavis, you’re here!” Greg says as soon as I walk into his office. This is pretty much the first thing Greg always says to me, which should make me feel good, but instead somehow makes me feel needed in a way that exhausts me.
Speaking of a bottomless pit of neediness, Greg does not look good. There are dark circles under his eyes and his nails are bitten to the quick.
“The harpies are all ready for their celebration of ----” he makes an attempt at saying the name of the harpy high holiday, and since he’s a winged creature, he’s able to do about half of it. I still wince.
“Right, harpy Christmas, I know,” I say.
“Well, it’s more like harpy New Year,” Greg begins but I cut him off with a hand in the air.
“I don’t care,” I say. “Just tell me what we’re doing for security while they all go celebrate.”
“Not all of them are celebrating,” Greg says, unrolling a map of the subway tunnels surrounding UWR so that I can follow along. “All the clutches up to fifty-two are excused from duty and will be at their gathering. Any of Zahara’s children born after clutch fifty-three are still on duty.”
“Baby harpies?” I ask.
“Yeah, and they’re not happy about it,” Greg says. “Most of them are teenagers in harpy years, so I actually put a Cerberus in charge of the pheromone closet, just in case.”
“Right,” I say, musing.
That’s a good thing. There are only so many of the three-headed dogs. Hades had attempted a breeding program a few years ago and only managed to produce a handful of three-headed dogs. The rest only had two heads, and in one weird mutation, an extremely affectionate Scottish terrier.
“How many Cerberus are currently on guard?” I ask.
“Three,” Greg answers, pointing to the map. “I’ve got one on the pheromone closet, and Deuce is guarding the main exit to the tunnels. Totality is the free-roamer on duty tonight.”
Deuce is one of Hades’ two-headed Cerberus creations. Totality is the Scottish terrier. My hopes soar. If we’re lucky, this just might work.
“The harpies are leaving for their ceremony in ten minutes,” Greg says. “So we’ll need to be on high alert after that.”
“Great,” I say. “And where is that being held?”
“Central Park,” Greg says.
I smile around clenched teeth and power walk back to my office. Busting in, I find Tina coaxing one of my succulents back from half-death.
“I can’t change it,” I tell Tina, panic spiking my voice. “I dumped blood all over the place down there in the tunnels. Our squad is going to come out of the subway right into the largest gathering of UWR guards the world has ever seen.”
“Not to mention the Human First rally,” Tina says, one finger on the plant.
“What?!??!” I screech. “What the Hades are you talking about?”
“I thought you knew,” Tina says. “Geez, you need to get aboveground more. That rally that was planned down in Florida has caught on like wildfire. Every major city is having one tonight. Like, complete with torches and pitchforks.”
“And you didn’t tell me?” I seethe.
“You seemed so confident,” Tina shrugs. “Every time I told you this wasn’t going to work, you said it was. I assumed you were just going to have Edie swoop down and pick us all up, maybe drop some dragon turds on their parade.”
“Edie?” I ask, crossing my arms. “Edie who is missing?”
Tina’s complacent mask slips for a second.
“You forgot, didn’t you?” I ask. “You forgot that my sister is also MIA?”
She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, okay? I did. I’m mostly just thinking about Val. Siblings are very loyal to each other.”
“Edie is my sibling,” I mutter, but there isn’t a lot of sting in my tone. I can’t muster much feeling at all, actually. I’m about to break out some of the most difficult prisoners in UWR, right into a swarm of harpies and rioting humans that are primed for their blood. Absently, I reach into my bra, pulling out some of the pills from Themis.
“What’s that?” Tina asks, eyebrows drawing together.
“Confidence in pill form,” I tell her, popping one.
“Maybe take two,” she says.
We walk through the halls of UWR, trying to look natural. Tina stays by my side. As a vampire, she’s already undead and can move in and out of UWR without any issues. While that’s good for her, it also means she doesn’t have a staff bracelet.
My bracelet not only allows me to move and back forth between the underworld and above ground, but it also has the ability to power down the prisoner’s collars, and set them for different security levels. I can’t in good conscience power their collars down entirely. I don’t even want to know what orgiastic havoc Mac would unleash if he went full-charm on a crowd of humans, and I’m definitely not letting Griff loose in the streets of New York City, claws out.
Luckily I can set their collars to what we call “field trip” mode. It means they won’t have their powers, but they can move outside the walls of UWR without getting zapped or setting off alarm sensors. Tina and I decided they’ve got a better shot at avoiding detection if we all make our way separately to the Central Park platform and regroup there.
Unfortunately, regrouping means that I have to tell them our choices are to go aboveground where thousands of people are dying to kill them, or wait patiently on the platform for Greg and the First Brood to figure out there are a few bodies missing at bed count.
I shiver at the thought. The prisoners would likely end up in max security, which means isolation, and possibly the death penalty, if the Triumvirate chooses that direction. Me and Tina? I shake my head. I’m never putting on a collar or a pair of manacles again. I’ll let the humans take a shot at me first.
“Alright,” I tell Tina. “You head to the Central Park extraction point and wait for the prisoners. I’ll start resetting collars.”
“Sure thing,” Tina says. “And it was nice knowing you. Or well, not really. It was just kind of okay. What flowers do you want me to plant on your grave? Forget-me-nots?”
“Is there a flower called Get-the-Hell-Away-From-Me-and-Do-What-You’re-Told?”
“No, but I like your spunk,” Tina says, tipping me a wink before she heads out the cafeteria door.
I move through the prisoners like I normally would, making small talk, settling disputes, asking after minor scuffles that have erupted between inmates. I check on the ape shifter with dietary issues, who has developed diaper rash. I give him a pass to visit the infirmary where he can get a cream for that. I reach over Griff to hand the shifter the pass, my bracelet brushing against Griff’s collar.
“Can I go, like, now?” The ape asks, squirming in his seat.
“Sure,” I tell him, happy for the opportunity. “Griff, would you mind escorting your fellow shifter to the infirmary?”
He grunts in response, and the two hulking guys (one with a noticeable load in his shorts) take their trays to the front. I slide in behind Griff and whisper, “There are no guards posted at exit 32C. Follow the blood.”
He gives no indication of having heard me, but it’ll have to do. I watch the bear shifters leave the cafeteria, and scan for my next mark. I make my way across the cafeteria casually, finding excuses to brush up against Mac, Trevor, Shauna, and Tamika, resetting their collars to field trip mode and letting them know what exit to use.
When I’m done, I take my place back at the front of the cafeteria. I’m standing between two First Brood guards when Shauna catches my eye. I swipe a hand against my nose, which is Shauna’s cue.
“Get your filthy see-through hands off me, you paranormal pervert!” she screams, launching her tray of food at Trevor. It passes cleanly through him, and splatters a table full of vampires, who instantly get to their feet. Their meals (blood bags) fly in the air at the fae table, and within two seconds, complete chaos reigns. Tater tots and Type O explode into the air. Everybody gets in on it.
Shauna makes for the exit as the guards near her table jump into the fray.
The alarm sounds, and more guards pour into the cafeteria, leaving the hallways and exits unguarded. Some prisoners realize this right away and make a dash for it. They won’t get far with their collars activated; anybody who tries to get through an exit door will get a shock strong enough to drop them in their tracks.
But not my team.
“I’ll get Greg!” I yell at a First Brood, who has whipped out her stun gun. She nods, and I make my own escape, dodging prisoners and guards alike in the halls as I shoot for exit 32C. There’s a sudden crash behind me and a familiar stench fills the hallway.
“Oh no,” I mutter. Someone just broke into the pheromone closet. I cover my nose and dash in the opposite direction as quickly as I can. From the new noises I hear behind me, I’d say the pheromones have had an immediate effect. There’s about to be some really horny prisoners, and Greg is not going to be happy with me if I live through all of this.
I turn the corner to 32C and find Tamika struggling with a fallen body that blocks the door.
“Who is it?” I ask. “Griff?”
I quickly reassess when I see the smear on the ground from where he landed. “Oh, it’s the ape shitter. Sorry, I mean shifter,” I correct myself.
“He made a break for it and got zapped in the doorway. I can’t move him by myself,” Tamika says. I grab one arm and she snags the other as we drag him out of the way.
“Did the others make it out?” I ask, but Tamika only shrugs.
“I have no idea. I just got here to find a pile of ape-man blocking the way.”
“Okay, just go,” I tell her. “Follow the scent of the blood.”
“Now that, I can do,” she says, and disappears into the dark tunnel.