THERE ARE 23 MILLION PEOPLE in the city of Shanghai. That’s a lot of humans. On the other hand, there are, or should be, only three Primani. Three Primani including Sean and Dec, the second they rematerialized on the roof of the Shanghai World Financial Center. With their psychic links and ultra-cool specialized cellphones, they shouldn’t have any problem finding another of their kind. Right?
The constant hum of all of these human souls washed over Dec like a tropical wave. The raw energy surged over his skin, tingling and tugging him towards it as surely as the tide is drawn to the shore. This just never gets old. Taking a minute to enjoy the sensation, he closed his eyes and tipped his head back to soak it in. The noise didn’t bother him. The millions of lights didn’t bother him. The air pollution was another story though. As he inhaled deeply, his lungs protested the dirty air and a coughing fit left him wheezing. And now he remembered why he’d stayed away for so long. Gross.
With one hand covering his nose and mouth, Sean shook his head and said, “I hate this city. There are literally thousands of friggin’ demons stinking up the place. It’s worse than New York. Of all the places in the world, why does Keil want to stay here?” He gestured at the endless sea of artificial lights below them. “I thought he was into surfing. Why isn’t he in Australia or New Zealand? Good waves and good beer. Beautiful weather, too.”
Good question. “Best I can figure is he’s got a girl—or three—here in the city. According to Uriel, their latest op is done and he’s taking some R&R. If he’s still here, he’s partying.”
“Let’s hope he’s sober. I doubt your girl will appreciate us dragging dear old dad back if he’s puking all over the place.” Sean studied the roofs that stretched as far as the eye could see. “Do you have a last known for him? It would help to narrow our search. We don’t have much time if we’re going to be back in time for your wedding. The clock is ticking, right? Pretty sure it’ll change from wedding to funeral if you don’t show up on time.”
Dec grimaced and consulted his cellphone. Uriel had kindly sent him the last known addy for Keil. Could they have called him? Sure—If the asshat would pick up his damn phone. So far, he’d been off grid, out of touch, and in the wind. No one had seen or heard from him in a month. He had no idea his only daughter was getting married in a couple of days. This was supposed to be a surprise for Rori. She didn’t have any blood family other than Keil, and even though he was pretty much only the supernatural sperm donor that hooked up with her mother, it would be cool if he came. Dec memorized the addy info and let his sight wander to pick up the coordinates. Within seconds, the location was mapped in the handy GPS system in his brain. “Got it! His ass better be there. Let’s go.”
After politely rematerializing just inside the entrance of Keil’s pitch-black apartment, Dec swung his eyes from one side of the living room to the other. Empty. Not a surprise. Even though it was past midnight, he wasn’t shocked to find no one here. Keil was a slut. Pure and simple. Probably he was out partying with his current harem of willing women.
“Why is nothing ever easy?” To his right, Sean dragged a hand through his hair and tsked with annoyance before moving to check the other rooms.
Dec’s night vision presented his brother as a heat signature with gleaming blue eyes, before sharpening focus until he was as visible in the darkness as he was in natural light. Calling over his shoulder, Sean mused, “He still lives like a monk. Look at this place. It’s spotless. Nothing ever changes with him.”
Yeah, right. “Don’t confuse austerity with laziness. He doesn’t own anything because he’s too lazy to shop.”
He moved towards the tiny square space that served as a bedroom. A flip of the light switch revealed two simple pieces of furniture: A massive bed that sat on a low platform so it was barely off the floor and a matching black-lacquered table with two narrow drawers. The wall behind the bed was completely covered by a floor-to-ceiling mirror. The mirror extended across the ceiling above the bed. The source of light was two chrome-plated pendulum lamps that hung from the ceiling on either side of the bed. They gave off just enough illumination to create atmosphere. A pristine chrome and white marble bathroom was visible off to the side. A quick search turned up no clues. Keil’s limited wardrobe hung from the back of the two doors or was rolled neatly inside a black nylon go-bag that was parked just inside the bathroom.
“Do you smell that?”
Dec gave the air a sniff. “Yeah. Smells like jasmine.”
The bedroom and bathroom were spotlessly clean and almost too neat. Where did the sweet perfume come from? The fragrance floated in the air, just barely noticeable, but there all the same. No plants. No candles. No incense burners sitting around. Turning back to the bathroom, he opened the shower door.
“Found it.” Holding up a travel-sized bottle of shampoo, he waved it at Sean. There were also a couple of long, black hairs lying on the shower floor. “He’s had recent company. There’s still water in the drain.”
Sean bounced his butt on the edge of the bed before squinting up at the ceiling mirror. “I’ll be damned. There’s a camera behind that glass.” Pushing himself off of the bed, he muttered just loudly enough for Dec to hear, “Kinky fucker.”
Pausing his snooping long enough to laugh, he said, “Somehow, I’m not surprised. He’s always played on the edge. I wonder where he’s stashed his knives? He’s got an interesting collection. He’s been picking them up from all over the world for ages.” He gave the room one last sweep of his eyes and said, “Let’s go. He’s gone. We’ll have to do this the old-fashioned way. Damn him. Why does he always make everything so difficult?”
They’d need to lock onto his saol to track him down. His energy source would serve as a beacon. This was something they rarely did in the modern age of cellphones and email. Connecting to the saol was, um, personal. It was sort of like seeing the other person naked—without permission. They’d be able to pinpoint Keil’s exact location and teleport to him with a thought. They’d just have to hope he wasn’t in the middle of something, or someone.
Sean interrupted his musing. “I just tried to call him and there’s still no response.” He tapped his temple for emphasis and frowned. “Would he ignore me, do you think?”
“The Keil I know wouldn’t ignore you if he heard you calling. Even if he were banging some chick, he’d at least acknowledge you in case it was an emergency. This is getting weird.”
Twenty-four hours later, they were no closer to finding Keil. Dec peered into a cup of green tea before blowing on it with enough force to send it splashing over the rim and onto the flimsy metal tabletop. He was running on fumes and needed some caffeine before he fell over. “Shit. He’s in the wind. How are we missing him? It’s like we’re one friggin’ step behind him. We have one more day before I’m throwing in the towel.” Leaning forward, he rested his chin on his palm. “I’m out of ideas.”
The narrow Hong Kong street was packed with people despite the late hour. It was close to midnight and they were taking a break. They’d crisscrossed half of Asia tracking Keil and Dec was ready to choke the ever-loving shit out of his friend. Rubbing the back of his hand over his eyes in a desperate attempt to find some energy, he stared off into space, his mind a complete blank. He was friggin’ beat.
Sean yawned and echoed his thoughts. “I need some rack time before I fall over. Here’s an idea. Let’s grab a few hours back at Keil’s place. In the morning, we can try Uriel. He’s got more juice than us. Maybe he can pinpoint a location since Manilla and Shanghai haven’t turned up anything. If we can’t find him in a couple of hours, we say fuck it and get back to New York. Rori will kill us if we’re late.”
Draining his tea, Dec stood and stretched his arms over his head, yawning hugely. “I hope Rori’s getting more done than we are.”
Five minutes later, feeling like death would be the best nap ever, they rematerialized inside the Shanghai apartment and got ninja whacked the second their molecules got solid. Moving with complete silence, the attackers hit them from both sides, sending the two of them crashing into each other before careening into the wall. Soldier-mode kicked in instantly, and they threw themselves into the two people who were trying to kill them.
Fighting with his back to Dec’s, Sean hissed through his teeth and ducked as a big ass knife nearly took his head off. Dragging his own blade from its sheath, he lunged for blood with a furious curse on his lips.
The deafening crack of a gunshot froze everyone in a shocked tableau just before the pain hit Dec like a sledgehammer. The zinging adrenaline kept him on his feet for a nanosecond, but his head swam with dizziness that sent him staggering to his knees.
Rori and Aisling stepped out of the taxi in front of the library. The wedding was planned for 6:00 p.m. tomorrow. Rori knew she should be excited, but all she really felt right now was tired. It had been a long week. Besides the disruption that Af had caused and the unsettling visions, she’d been feeling anxious over something she simply couldn’t identify. A lingering sense of foreboding followed her around like a cloud.
Aisling touched her arm. “Do you want me to come in with you? I don’t mind looking around while you look for your friend. It’s been ages since I’ve been here.”
“Are you sure you don’t need to sit down? There are plenty of empty chairs out here.”
“I’m fine, Rori. I think I can handle walking around the library for a few minutes. Besides, I don’t like the way the sky’s behaving. It feels like . . .” Her voice trailed off as she tipped her head back to look upwards with a thoughtful crease between her eyes.
Rori followed her gaze. The sky was overcast with clouds that dipped so low they hid the upper floors of the skyscrapers. The faint hint of rain dappled their skin, making her hair frizz and her face itch. The normal buzz of busy New Yorkers going about their routines seemed subdued somehow. It was as if the entire city held its breath. Waiting. The eerie sense of loss swamped her again and she shuddered to shake it off.
Holding her palm up as if weighing the air, Aisling frowned. “It feels odd. Almost charged somehow. Do you think it’s Af, or just a natural storm? Could his energy affect the entire city like this?” She studied the handful of people scattered around the wrought iron tables next to the building.
Everyone’s heads were bent to their screens—cellphones, laptops, whatever. No one spoke. No one laughed. There were no kids around, either. It was oddly quiet. She opened her mouth to comment on that just as a shadow moved across the street. Her eyes snapped to the motion and she froze in stunned horror.
No way! It couldn’t be. Reeling with sudden panic, she stared intently at the shaded space beneath the scaffolding, but the vision was gone. There was nothing but the usual glass storefront. Swallowing the lingering fear, she put her hand over her pounding heart and took a deep breath. He’s dead. He’s gone. He can’t reappear. It’s not possible. Get a grip, woman!
“I’m making myself insane,” she muttered, shaking her head to erase the image. “Come on. Let’s go inside. I don’t want to make April wait. She hasn’t been feeling well. Do you mind if we take her home when we’re done? I don’t want her to walk all that way. I’ll shove her into a taxi with both hands if I have to.”
Aisling cracked a smile. “I’ll help you.” She flexed a bicep and joked, “Between the two of us, I think we can take her.”
She patted the adorable bulge of Aisling’s belly and said, “You’re too pregnant to be bullying little old ladies. Leave the brute force to me.”
The cool air of the lobby barely cut through the sticky humidity that followed them inside. Normally she would take the time to stand here for a minute, breathing in the scent of old books and soaking up the peaceful vibes that she loved so much. Usually that peaceful feeling welcomed her, wrapping her in its arms, soothing her anxiety, helping her relax after a hectic day much like a hug from a dear old grandmother.
But that didn’t happen today. The familiar dusty fragrance of old books was missing. A repulsive sour odor greeted them instead. Beside her, Aisling wrinkled her nose and coughed. Yeah, she felt that way too. What is that godawful smell? Sewage leak?
Aisling covered her nose and said with a half-choked laugh, “Smells like decomp. Did someone die in here?”
An icy shiver of foreboding crawled between her shoulders. April! “Oh, no! It can’t be.” Plowing through the center of the hallways, she made a beeline straight to the seating area that April liked best. Empty. No people, either alive or dead. Her thoughts raced as she glanced around in a panic. Memories of Arthur’s face filled her mind and she stumbled into a table as a wave of dread washed over her. Was April dead now? What about that shadow on the street? Was that an omen? Some kind of sign? No, no, no! April was not dead. Her imagination was off the charts today. It was stress. Worry over everything else going on. April was fine. She had to be. She had to be. Right?
Think, Rori, just think. They were a few minutes late. Maybe April had gotten tired of waiting and left. Maybe she’s in the ladies’ room. Was she outside waiting? Did they miss her?
Aisling stopped her tumbling thoughts with a hand on her arm. “Rori, stop. You’re not going to find her by panicking. Let’s go ask the woman at the information desk. Wouldn’t she remember her?”
Aisling was right. She was practically panting with panic. She needed to calm down. Just because April wasn’t here, didn’t mean she wasn’t okay. She was probably sitting just outside wondering where the heck Rori was. Laughing breathlessly, she agreed. “Good idea. Let’s go ask Mrs. Brassard. She always chats with April when she comes in.”
“Maybe she can explain the decomp.”
Mrs. Brassard was a tall, slightly stooped, plain woman who was somewhere between fifty and seventy years old. Her thick, coarse hair was coiled into a messy bun and pinned to the center of her rather large head. They found her crouched behind a desk, stuffing papers into a series of folders.
Not wanting to startle her, Rori cleared her throat before saying, “Mrs. Brassard?”
She unfolded her frame with great care, yet the soft pop of her joints was noticeable in the hushed space. Grimacing slightly, she pushed a pair of horn-rimmed glassed to the top of her head and graced them with a warm smile. “Good afternoon, ladies. I was beginning to wonder if you were going to miss today too.”
“Too?”
She sat the stack of papers on the desk and nodded politely at Aisling. “Yes, Rori. I haven’t seen April today. In fact, she didn’t come in last week either. I’d assumed you two had made some agreement to miss your normal get-togethers.” She waved vaguely. “Vacations or some such thing. I was very nearly envious as I imagined the lovely places you might go with that handsome man of yours.”
Aisling rolled her eyes. “Is there anybody who doesn’t like Dec?”
Rori couldn’t help grinning at the sarcasm in Aisling’s voice. “Not if they’re female.” To Mrs. Brassard, she said, “As a matter of fact, I’m planning a honeymoon at the moment. We’re getting married tomorrow night.”
Aisling murmured from the corner of her mouth, “Maybe.”
Maybe wasn’t what she wanted to hear, but Ais was right. If the guys didn’t get back from their secret mission, they’d miss the ceremony. Then she would have to kill Dec, and Sean too, because it would probably be Sean’s fault. After killing them, she’d have to take Loki and disappear so their maker wouldn’t be able to find her and do whatever it was that Archangels did to people who killed their soldiers. Odds were good that it would hurt. That would suck. Completely.
Aisling nudged her with too much understanding in her eyes. “Hey, they’ll be back. I’m sure of it. In the meantime, let’s go track down your lady friend so you’ll stop stressing about her. There’s enough to do before tomorrow and I’m dying for some time to shop. I can almost hear new boots calling my name.”
With one hand tapping against her discarded folders, Mrs. Brassard only lifted a bushy brow at their exchange. Message received; she was a busy woman, so Rori said goodbye. Just as they turned to leave, she hesitated and swiveled back around. “Mrs. Brassard, what’s that terrible smell? Was there a sewage line break or something?”
The older woman’s face screwed up in confusion. She settled her glasses onto her nose and replied sincerely, “What smell, dear?”
The white light was peaceful. The white light was soothing. The white light was—
Blinding the shit out of him! Scrunching his entire face into an unhappy mask, he swatted weakly at the space in front of his eyes. Go away!
“Dec! Wake up before I call Dimitri and Alex and tell them you got shot by a friggin’ ninja! Do you really want them to hear about this? You’ll never live it down.”
Cringing away from the light, he dragged a hand over his eyes to shield them. Fucking Sean. “Turn off that stupid light. Are you an idiot? I just got shot in the head.”
“Yeah, I know. I was there.” Without any remorse at all, Sean tossed his cellphone to the side where its flashlight app decorated the wall next to his head. Squatting down, he gave Dec a reassuring smile and handed him a kitchen towel. “Here. Keep this pressed on the wound. Good news is you’ll live. The bullet bounced off of your thick skull and ricocheted into the wall. It missed my face by about three inches, but I won’t hold that against you. I’m sure you didn’t mean it.”
Dec pushed himself to a sitting position, grimacing at the overpowering metallic scent of his blood pouring down his neck. Swallowing the flood of saliva that always accompanied this much blood, he pressed the towel to the side of his head just above his right ear. Sean was right. There was only a thin groove that was about three inches long.
“So what’s the bad news?”
Unfolding himself to standing again, Sean gestured at two prone humans. “Well, the guy who shot you is dead. You jammed your knife in his gut before your eyes rolled back in your head. Guess you hit something important.” He nodded with approval. “Good job on that, bro. The other asshole’s still alive because I showed more restraint than you for a change. Take a minute. When you’re ready to do this, we’ll see what the hell’s going on here.”
Blinking at the bodies, he shook his head in confusion and regretted it as pain lanced across his melon. “Shit. That hurts.” Tossing the bloody towel to the floor in disgust, he said, “Give me a minute to fix this. I can’t think right now.”
Smirking with amused brotherly sympathy, Sean helped him to his feet but let his supporting hand linger to be sure Dec didn’t fall over. His damn eyes twinkled as he turned Dec towards the bathroom. “The blood’s getting to you, right? Go heal in the shower. You’ll feel better.”
Too tired to come up with a clever denial, he only nodded, said, “Yep,” and carefully moved to the shower without bothering to strip. The hot water sluicing over him was heavenly. Closing his eyes, he let it clean his clothes as he drew his healing energy to the small wound. Knitting the skin together and relieving the pounding headache only took a few seconds, but he hung out under the spray for a while longer. Sean’s impatient banging on the door finally dragged him out of a doze and he reached for the shampoo.
It was gone.
And the plot thickens. Well, hell. Now what? After using the last bit of Keil’s body wash to scrub his hair and, well, all visible skin, he rinsed off, and dragged a towel through his hair. Dripping everywhere, he sighed. Keil would be pissed, but he’d have to get over it. He needed dry clothes.
When he finally made it back to the living room, their prisoner was in the middle of yammering something in Chinese that was only pissing Sean off. Now sitting sullenly on the edge of the couch, the guy didn’t look like much of a threat. Judging from the way Sean’s mouth was moving, he was cursing under his breath.
He could sympathize. This day was rapidly starting to suck. “So has he said anything in English?”
With a disgusted grunt, Sean slapped the guy in the back of the head. “No. But lucky for him I’m not in a patient mood, and we don’t have time for a long, drawn out torture session. If he doesn’t want to answer my questions, I’ll just kill him and dump his body. What’s one more dead fake ninja?” He flashed an evil grin with a conspiratorial wink. “Are those Keil’s clothes? You know he’s going to kill you, right?”
He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I know; but wet jeans chafe when there’s nothing between them and my balls. Keil will survive.”
The man tied on the couch muttered something ugly beneath his breath and glared balefully at Dec. At medium height with a medium build, shaved head, a niiiice tribal tat twisting around his arm, and dressed in black skinny jeans and a clingy black t-shirt, he wasn’t much of a ninja, really. He looked more like the lead singer from an emo band. This was the asshole that jumped them? He seemed much bigger in the dark . . . and when he was swinging that huge knife around.
Dec crossed his arms and studied the man’s expression without saying a word. The man dropped his eyes to stare at the wall in front of them. A tic jumped in his jaw despite his bravado.
Letting his mouth curl into a hint of a smile, he drew his Primani blade and tapped it against his palm. Time to get this show on the road. He had a schedule to meet. After pinning his eyes to the guy’s face, he slowly and purposefully circled around to the back of the couch. As if tied by a string, his head swiveled to follow Dec as he moved, his harsh face paling with every step. By the time Dec was standing behind him, his shoulders were actually trembling. Perfect.
Snatching the guy by the top of his skull, Dec yanked his head back and slid the sharp side of the blade under his jaw. With his voice lowered to a purr, he said, “I don’t have time for games. I’m going to ask you nicely. If you don’t answer me nicely, I’m going to slit your throat.” He pressed the knife just a wee bit for emphasis. The taut skin popped like a grape. The man’s eyes bugged with fear.
Dec raised his chin towards Sean. “I think he understands English, bro.”
Sean agreed with another evil smile. “I think you’re right. Do you want to ask him or should I?”
“I got this.” He wiggled the blade a bit and the man’s body stiffened. Okay, he’s primed. He withdrew the knife and came back around the couch. Pulling up a chair, he sat back and asked, “You ready?”
The man started to answer in Chinese, hesitated, and shrugged before switching to English. “What do you want to know?”
Ah, he does speak English. “Where is Keil?”
“That is very good question. I do not know. He was not here when we came.”
“What business do you have with him?”
His face filled with angry color. He leaned forward and nearly snarled, “He is fucking my sister!”
“Oh, is that all?” Sean’s sarcasm came through loud and clear.
Dec smothered a smile behind his hand. “So he’s screwing your sister. What’s the big deal? Is she over 21?”
“Yes! She is old enough to do what she wants, but she should not be with this man. My father is concerned.”
“Let me guess. She’s supposed to marry a close friend of your family? Maybe an important business associate? She’s decided to rebel and your father’s pissed off about it? Did you come here to threaten him, or to kill him?”
The man’s swollen lips curled with derision. “My name is Li Jun Chen. My father is only a simple butcher in Taiwan; so no, it is not for business that we are worried. My sister, Wang Li, has not been well. She is . . .” He frowned, searching for words. “She is crazy in her head.”
Oh, yay! And this day just keeps getting better and better and more fucking better.
Leaning into Li Jun’s space, Dec demanded, “Where is your sister now?”
Sean interrupted before Li Jun could answer. “We need to wrap this up. Just give us the short version so we can decide whether or not to let you leave here with all your parts attached. Do you hear what I’m saying?”
Li Jun swallowed so hard his Adam’s apple bobbed beneath the layer of dried blood. “If I tell you everything, will you let me go? My brother is already dead and my father will be heartbroken if all of his children are gone.”
“Yes. Yes. Get on with it. What happened here?” He was not in the mood for this. He wanted to find Keil and drag his butt back to New York ASAP.
“We followed Wang Li to this place a few days ago. We wanted to take her away from this man—this Keil—but she would not open the door for us. We left and came back today to try again. When no one answered the door, we broke in to look around.” He shrugged off their identical scowls. “She wasn’t here and your friend wasn’t here. We were just leaving when you came through the door.”
Amused by this obvious bullshit, Dec cut his eyes to Sean’s and gave his a head a wag. Seriously?
Sean barked a hard laugh and said in a dangerously reasonable tone, “Oh, really? You just happened to come in here—armed to the teeth—just to look around for your poor crazy sister? And you just happened to decide to turn into ninjas and try to kill us without even asking who the fuck we are? You really expect us to believe that you and your dead homey are only concerned brothers looking out for their sister? Do I look that stupid to you?”
Holding up a hand, Sean snapped, “Don’t answer that. Here’s what I think. I think you two assholes and your sister are into some shady shit. Drugs? Guns? Prostitution? Hell, it could be espionage or terrorism, but I’d bet your life that this entire story is crap. I think your sister latched onto our buddy as either a target to exploit or an escape route away from you dicks. It doesn’t matter which. You came in here hoping to find Keil so you could take him out. Am I right?”
Silence.
Sean’s face was closed for their guest, but Dec knew exactly what he was thinking, knew what his next move would be. They’d been down this road more times than he could count. While Sean waited for an answer to his last question, Li Jun sat stone faced and sweaty, his heartbeat getting faster and faster as the seconds ticked by.
“I’ve heard enough.” Dec stood abruptly and jerked his head at Sean. “He’s a dead end. Time for Plan B.”
The first sign they were in the right place was the bat-sized mosquito that landed on Dec’s arm the very second he rematerialized in the jungle. The second sign was the energy-sapping heat that hit them like an open sauna. A rumble of thunder warned them they were about to get drenched. Oh, good. Maybe the friggin’ insects would drown. He swatted at three more mosquitos before he took three steps towards the beach.
Beside him, Sean swore in Latin and then in Gaelic before finally switching to English. “Sonofafuckingbitch! I think I’m missing my right ear! Let’s get out of here before I lose something that’ll make Aisling unhappy.”
Dec coughed a distracted laugh because Sean expected it. His heart wasn’t really in it though. Uriel was sure this was where Keil was, but where the hell were they? It seemed vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t pull up any actual memories of spending time here. Just a feeling in his gut? Déjà vu, maybe?
They stood on the edge of a small bay that was bordered on two sides by jungle-covered mountains. The landscape curved around the water before leveling out enough to support the burned out shantytown that hugged the shore and clung to the hillside across from their position.
The flash of memory struck so hard his knees buckled.
Torrential rain. Screams of terror. Black-uniformed soldiers.
He knew this land. Knew this town.
“He’s here, Dec. I can feel him. He’s across the water.”
“Something’s not right here.” He let the lingering feeling of memory wash over him again, hoping for a hint, a clue, something to tell him what was coming next. But there were no more images, no more memories. All that was left was a hint of suffering that made his stomach clench. “Let’s go get him.”
A second later, they were across the bay. His spidey senses went into hyperdrive as the devastation came into focus. The tin-roofed buildings had been destroyed. Anything that could burn—had. The bitter reek of wet ash hung over the ruins, held in place by the heavy air. Although the houses were leveled, most of the tiny fishing shacks were intact on the docks. The fish that had been brought in were decaying in the heat; the rank smell made his stomach tighten even more. A couple of rats ran across his combat boot in their rush to make it to the buffet. He didn’t flinch.
“What in the hell?” Sean murmured under his breath before reaching into the holster on his waist and slowly drawing his weapon. All business now, he pointed his chin towards the narrow road that wound upward.
Dec nodded once and turned the safety off of his Sig. It looked like a bomb had gone off.
Grenades.
Keeping close to the buildings, they made their way to the second street where what used to be a bar still stood partly intact. How it had survived was anybody’s guess. The humans who’d been hanging out there hadn’t been so lucky. Two corpses lay tangled together as they had fallen. Dec copped a squat to examine them. Shot. Multiple times. They’d died instantly and so had two others who lay sprawled behind a stack of pallets. These two had also been sprayed with bullets, but they’d been hit in the back—probably trying to run.
“Oh, good. You’re here too.” Keil lurched forward from the side of the building. Dressed in a pair of boxers and covered in ash and blood, he stumbled towards them with glassy eyes.
“Where’ve you been, Keil? We’ve been trying to find you for days.”
Sean elbowed him in the ribs and hissed, “Is he stoned?”
Keil cocked his head to the side before fixing his gaze on the space above Dec’s head. “Do you see it? The colors . . . It’s . . . No. No. Stay back! No!”
“Keil? Hey!”
Staggering to a halt, Keil stared around in horror before collapsing to his knees with both hands clapped over his ears. “Not my fault . . . Not my fault . . . Uriel says . . .”