blades and leg straps and hooked them to his thighs. As he straightened, he noticed a large rack mounted to the wall. Various keys hung there, labeled with what they belonged to. He approached the rack, brows raised as he read some of the labels. It was like a bike enthusiast’s wet dream—Michael’s wet dream. They had everything: Hondas, Harleys, Indians, and various crotch rockets, but it was the Hayabusa GSX that caught his eye.
“Holy shit,” he murmured.
It was one of the fastest bikes, accelerating to unimaginable speeds. The bike was made for all the adrenaline junkies in the world.
He didn’t think twice about grabbing those keys before heading to the parking garage in the back where they kept the fleet of vehicles. It had to be the only logical place where the bikes were kept.
He was right. On the bottom level, behind a steel cage, were several dozen bikes under lock and key. Staring at the key for a moment, he then grabbed one of the knives. It cut through the mesh wire like nothing, and he could only imagine what it did to flesh as he kicked open the gate. The platinum motorcycle was like a beacon. There was a moment of appreciation as he approached the bike, knowing he would probably never have the luxury of riding this thing again.
This was probably going to get him kicked out of the Sanctuary.
“Hey.”
Spinning around, he saw Luke. Immediately, Michael thought the worst—and maybe the best. “Did you find Lily?”
“No.” He grabbed a helmet off the rack. “But I think I know where she would go. You game?”
“Let’s do this.” Michael straddled the bike, pausing before he slid the helmet on. “Lead the way.”
“Trust me,” Luke said. “We’ll find her.”
…
Lily couldn’t breathe as she barreled through the crowded sidewalk. Where in the hell were all these people coming from? They seemed to be closing in on her, and though the sun had already set, the air was thick with heat and humidity.
Picking up her pace, she balled her hands into fists, ignoring the looks of people she bumped into or cut off. It didn’t matter that she suspected Micah. He hadn’t deserved that. No one deserved that.
Not Julian. Her mind rebelled at the idea. He couldn’t have done this. Ripped the Nephilim to bloody shreds, and for what? But she had shared with him her suspicions. And he even offered to take care of him. God, there was a good chance she was going to vomit on someone.
She turned the corner, narrowly avoiding a couple holding hands. Her heart clenched so tightly she stumbled.
Micah would most likely die, and she…she was in love with a killer, a monster.
She was searching for a distraction—trouble really. Anything to ease the twisting her heart did every so many minutes, but like the days before, there were no minions or deadheads to be found. It had been hours since she left her apartment, and…it was really starting to piss her off.
Anger… Yes, anger was better than the swamping grief that waited. Her step faltered, and she stopped on the footbridge. The Anacostia River rushed below, dark and uninviting. She wanted to sit down—right there—and sob. She wanted to scream, wanted to crawl into a hole somewhere.
And…damn it, she wanted Julian. Wanted to find him, beat the living shit out of him for doing this to her, and she wanted…to pretend what he did never happened.
Lily pushed away from the ledge, grinding her teeth. She started forward, breathing slowly. She was a hunter before Julian, and she would be a damn fine hunter after him.
“Damn it!” she hissed. “Can I not find one more thing to kill?”
A teenage street thug came around the corner, but seeing the deadly look on her face, he backed away. She would have laughed, but then she probably would have cried. It was really turning out to be a terrible night.
It had to be Micah. Maybe Julian did it out of some sick way of helping clear her name. However, that would be pretty useless considering the fact Micah wouldn’t be confessing to anything or anyone anytime soon.
She knew it was crass to think of Micah like that, especially after what was done to him. And why was she in Anacostia? She hated this area—hated the crime, the hopelessness, and the fishy smell the river gave off every time a rainstorm came through.
And then she felt it—a minion.
Cracking her knuckles, she backed up a couple of feet. Empty, dilapidated row houses lined the street. Skeletons of their former glory, they were now inhabited by rats and the homeless.
But the minion wasn’t there.
Lily almost grinned when she realized where it was—the old reform school they had brought Michael to. Taking off down the block, she hopped the fence and headed around the building. The sensation grew, telling her she was on the right trail.
Entering through the busted-out window, she quietly crept through the abandoned classroom and hall. The doors at the end of the hall were open. Releasing her blades, she edged along the wall.
The balcony above the gymnasium was empty. Quickly, she scanned the upper level and then peered over the rusted railing. Empty.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” she whispered, gazing up at the ceiling.
“I’m right here.”
The voice sent shivers down Lily’s spine. She recognized it, knew it to be a voice she should never hear again. She turned around, feeling her heart twist. “William?”
Chapter Twenty-nine
“Are you shitting me?” Michael peeled off the helmet, staring at the reform school. Jesus, he had hoped he’d never come back to this place. “She would go here?”
Luke tucked the helmet under his arm as he climbed off his bike, looking around with a frown. “We’re gonna have to ditch the bikes, and there’s a good chance we may never see them again.”
Michael soured at that. “No…I like this bike. I want to keep it.”
“We’ll get you another one.”
He sure hoped so. “Why would she come here?”
Luke pitched the helmet into a bush. “I just know Lily.”
Michael looked over the fence. Ice flooded his veins. He had a bad feeling—a real bad feeling about this. He turned to Luke, but he’d already jumped the fence and stood on the other side, waiting.
“You’re slowing me down,” Luke said, then turned and strode off through the overgrown grass.
He flipped him off and followed. It took Michael a bit longer to make his way over the fence. He jogged to catch up to him. “So you think she went here to find Julian?”
They rounded the building and stopped in front of the same window Luke had pried the boards off over a month ago. Michael started to climb through first but stilled. The ice was spreading through his body, forming icicles in his stomach. A shiver ran up his spine. “I feel…something,” he said.
“What do you feel?” Luke said from behind him.
Michael peered over the ledge of the window, pieces of wood and brick crumbling under his fingers. “I feel another…Nephilim, but…”
“But what?”
There was something else in that reform school—several things, or something really powerful. It reminded him of the feeling he got when he’d seen Baal, but much…much worse.
“You know what I don’t get?” Luke said, his breath bouncing off the back of his neck. “How you’ve survived this long when you’re really this stupid.”
