back. And that leaves Tennin free to take back Charbydon.”
“In a few decades Charbydon will be virtually uninhabitable,” Hank said. “All of the jinn tribes still there will have to evacuate. If he wants anything, it’s to carve out his own territory here.”
“Could be,” I said, not wanting to believe he’d go that far or be that stupid. “He did help Mynogan bring darkness to the city …”
“And now he’s somehow helping Llyran start a war.” Hank glanced at his watch. “The best time to perform rituals is at dusk and dawn. We have about eight hours before winter solstice dawns.”
“Llyran’s not going to show himself, he won’t risk it this close to his goal. And Tennin won’t do anything to compromise his position … No word from the guys on the warehouse?”
“It’s been quiet. No one coming or going. We could go back, wait out the solstice. He’s got to come out eventually. That star is there, and he needs you.”
“No, I don’t want to give him any more time.” I chewed softly on the inside of my cheek, staring down Pryor Street at the myriad squares of light from the skyscraper windows. Determination settled over me. I squared my shoulders. “Let’s go tomb raiding.”
A slow grin spread across my partner’s face. “I love it when you think all criminal and vengeful, Madigan. Warms my heart.”
It had started to drizzle again and the air was veiled in a gossamer layer of gray. The entire area took on the atmosphere of a cemetery; the warehouses stood out like gigantic tombstones.
We left Hank’s car two streets over, careful with our steps because the “fog” was already settling near the ground. Not being able to see our feet in front of us made our progress slower than usual, but it also gave us time to scan the surroundings. Hank had given a heads-up call to the surveillance team that we were about to enter the warehouse. What he didn’t mention was our intent to take the contents of the tomb. That little surprise was just for Llyran. Without the star, his plans were useless.
Still taking precautions, we did a perimeter check of the warehouse, not seeing any lights from the windows or doors, and then took up positions near the side door. I sensed it was empty once again, not protected by wards, which I found odd. With something so precious inside, why was there not a single ward on the place? The side door was locked this time, making me wonder if last time it had been left unlocked by accident or on purpose, and who had locked it since. I used the Nitro-gun to freeze the lock. Hank kicked it, shattering the metal.
We entered quickly, hurrying through the long building to the back room where the sarcophagus was kept. There were no candles burning this time. The room was completely dark, and the whispers were gone, making the room seem even more bereft.
I knew it before I flicked on my light. The room was empty. Completely bare. No agate sarcophagus. No candles. No seal on the floor.
“Shit.”
“Now what?”
“Call the surveillance team again. Find out why the hell they didn’t see anything.” I paced, thinking. “Let’s try the penthouse in Helios Tower,” I said, already marching out of the room. “Maybe Llyran returned there.”
Hank left his car in the care of a valet with specific instructions to leave it in front of the lobby, flashing his badge for added intimidation when the valet started spouting tower rules and regulations. Then we entered the Topside lobby of Helios Tower and went straight for the elevators.
Once inside, I hit the button for the forty-sixth floor and then doublechecked my weapons. Hank and I stood shoulder to shoulder, our game faces on as the floors flashed by on the counter overhead.
Forty-four. Forty-five. Forty-six.
The doors slid open and without hesitation we strode down the hallway to penthouse number eight. I took up position near the door, my back against the wall and weapon drawn. Hank stood in front of the door and got ready to kick.
Inspired, I held up my hand to him, and then decided to check the door handle.
It wasn’t locked.
Remembering what had happened here last time made my nerves raw. I did not want a repeat joyride through the darkness. I pushed gently and let the door open by itself. Deep breath and then I ducked inside.
The penthouse was brightly lit, catching me off guard. I scanned the surroundings, feeling the hairs on my arms begin to rise in forewarning. My chest suddenly constricted, and I blinked back tears as my throat closed.
I met Hank’s gaze, and his was as confused as mine.
The energy all around this place was not as it should have been. Sadness and grief immobilized me as we pushed into the main living room, our backs to one another, using our senses to scan the open space. Something was very wrong. My throat thickened with heavy sorrow.
“Outside.” Hank’s voice made me jump.
I turned, weapon trained, to see two figures on the terrace. My eyes widened. “No, no, no, no …” I raced to the terrace to find Bryn in a T-shirt and pajama pants, covered in blood, hair up in a ponytail, feet bare, kneeling over a body. The wind blew against me as I approached.
My weapon remained trained on my own sister, and I was already blinking back tears. “Bryn?”
Her head lifted and she looked over her shoulder, her eyes red and puffy, red dots on her cheeks, her lips swollen and wet. She turned back around and wept, her shoulders shaking. I didn’t want to step forward. Didn’t want to see who was lying there.
But I knew. I already knew.
My friend. My teacher. The nymph with the emerald eyes and beautiful green aura.
His hands were bloody and scratched, obvious signs of a struggle he didn’t win. His body was sunken like Daya’s, laid flat out on the terrace. My fingers flexed around my Hefty and I raised my hand, using the back of it to wipe at my tears.
Hank brushed passed me, his weapon dropping to his side as his expression paled. My head was shaking in denial. Aaron was not dead. It couldn’t be. Not like this. I sank to my knees, letting my weapon go limp on the stone, still holding it in my hand, and doubling over to let my forehead hit the cold terrace, trying to hold in the scream of rage, loss, and guilt.
“No … no … Goddammit!” I cried to no one, letting my anger out in maddening groans of protest. I had to do something. Had to work. Had to move. I rose, wanting justice for my friend, for a good person who hadn’t deserved to die like this.
I grabbed my gun, dragging it along the stone as I stood, my insides shriveling into a tight, searing, breathless knot.
“What happened, Bryn?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
Her wide, aching, confused gaze met mine. “I don’t know …”
“You don’t
Bryn’s skin paled and a look of pure mortification passed over her.
“Charlie,” Hank said.
“Charlie, that’s enough.”
Deep down, I knew it was more than enough, but hurt was flooding out of me so fast that I didn’t know how to stop it or make sense of it. I turned away, storming to the terrace ledge, grabbing onto the railing and finally letting it out, screaming until I had nothing left, until my voice went useless, my throat burned, my lungs nearly collapsing.
I had to save Aaron. He couldn’t be dead. He was supposed to live a long life, convince Bryn to love him as he loved her. Someone in my family was supposed to have a happily ever after, for Christ’s sake. I stretched back from the railing and leaned down, letting my head fall in between my arms as I held on tightly. “We have to fix this,” I whispered and then turned, saying it louder. “We have to fix this.”
Hank closed his cell phone, and Bryn looked up from her vigil at Aaron’s side. “The medics are on their way.
