The Returned (15 page)

She swallowed, wiped at her eyes, and felt very tired.

So they'd gotten to her too; tried to “fix” her like they'd fixed Ellie. But she'd gotten away before they could. She thought back to the image of Four falling to ground and told herself Nightstick was the one who'd killed him, not her. But then, she'd created him—a magically manifested sentient entity inside her own mind—to hold back the unimaginable power inside her. Was she really free of responsibility? Nightstick had only done what she'd designed him to do. He was just trying to keep her safe. In the end, had there really been any good or bad guys in that room? Sure, Shadow, Fritz, and SK were just trying to protect her, but everyone else, herself included, was a murky shade of gray.

Did that Four have a family? A wife? A little girl who would never see her daddy again?

Wraith pushed her darkening thoughts aside, focusing on the here and now.

She looked at her phone and saw that two hours had passed. It was almost time to meet Edward, Caitlin, and Henry. After taking a minute to compose herself, she found a length of black cord and affixed her new charm to it. Slipping it over her head, she let it drop beneath her shirt. The metal was cold against her skin.

At least that's what she told herself was the cause of the shiver running through her body.

Slowly, she gathered her things, and before stepping back to New Orleans, she touched the amulet and closed her eyes.

“Thanks, Fritz,” she whispered. “And tell the others thanks for always watching out for me.”

E
dward watched the car in front of him closely and kept his distance—having seen the brake lights were out—but he still kept glancing over at Caitlin.

“Stop looking at me and watch the road,” Caitlin said, the hint of a smile on her face. “The car in front of you doesn't have any brake lights.”

“I know,” Edward said, turning his attention back to driving. A moment later he glanced over again. “Have I mentioned lately how sorry I—?”

“Stop apologizing,” Caitlin said. She reached over and took his hand in hers. “No, this isn't the honeymoon I dreamed of. I figured New Orleans would involve more music, drinking, and great food, with a little less dead rising from the grave—stop looking at me.”

Edward turned his eyes forward.

“But something bad is happening here,” she said. “We can help. That means we should, especially because so few others can.”

“I do have reservations for a nice dinner tonight,” Edward said, intent on not looking away from the road.

Caitlin gave him a wicked grin. Or at least he assumed she did because he was most certainly not continuing to glance over.

“I'm okay with room service,” she said.

Edward turned up the AC. “Understood.”

Caitlin laughed and checked her phone. “Turn left, then it's three blocks down.”

Edward turned down the street and was surprised by the neighborhood. He hadn't been expecting the scene of the crime—the big shoot-out six months ago—to be a war zone, but he had expected it to be a rougher area than it was. This was clearly a poorer section of town, and he knew it wouldn't be a good idea to walk through it at night, but it didn't fill him with dread.

The narrow strip of pavement had seen better days, but that was no surprise. These neighborhoods weren't usually high on the list of those who managed road repair. One side of the street was lined with houses nearly on top of each other. They were in various stages of disrepair, though even the boarded-up homes didn't look like they were condemned. People probably just left. Not that he could blame them.

The other side of the street was a different matter though. There was an old factory building that had suffered a devastating fire. The windows were all boarded, and parts of the roof had collapsed. The whole building and several acres around it were inside a chain fence topped with barbed wire. Edward parked and looked at Caitlin.

“That's the place,” she said, checking the news article on her phone and comparing the picture with the burned-out factory. “This says the building was the base of operations for the Scarlet Enigmas. Some of their members were chased there by the Midnight Boys, shooting all the way. It turned into a miniature war zone for a while, and that's when the Royal Skeleton Brigade showed up—who comes up with these names?”

“Kids,” Edward said but didn't look away from the building. He activated the charm on his glasses but still focused on Caitlin's words.

“Sounds like they set the whole thing up,” Caitlin said. “The Skeleton gang, I mean. They mowed down their rivals outside the building, and then—my God, they set fire to the place, with all those people still inside.” She shook her head. “By the time the cops and fire department arrived, it was over and everyone left alive had scattered. Final toll was nineteen dead gang members and three bystanders.”

Edward looked at the houses and wondered how horrible it must've been for the people who lived there. He had no doubt their lives were plenty hard already, but that night it must've felt like a literal hell. The pain the innocent people here suffered must have been unimaginable; worse still for the families of the three who were killed for nothing more than stupid criminal squabbles and feuds.

“You really think you can get anything from the scene of a crime that's six months old?” Caitlin asked.

Edward looked at her and smiled. He was still fascinated by the difference when he looked at her with the charm on his glasses activated. Without it, he couldn't see her changeling features, which hadn't become apparent until after her return from Tír na nÓg; Dante had said the visit was the cause. Her ears had a slight point to them, the way nonchangeling people's sometimes did when you saw them from the right angle. Her facial structure had changed slightly, but it was her eyes that were the most different. They'd become more almond shaped, and while not the solid color or true luminescence of Dante's and the other elves, the green had grown more vivid and did have a faint glow to it.

Caitlin looked away and brushed her hair down over her ear. “You're looking at me with the charm active, aren't you?”

He brushed the hair back behind her ear and turned her head so she was looking at him. “Sweetheart, you're beautiful with that charm, without it, or even without my glasses entirely.”

“You'd think I'd be used to it now,” she said. “More than a year of seeing my new face in the mirror.”

“But after a lifetime of seeing a different one.”

She nodded. “It's sort of like hearing a recording of your voice played back to you. After only ever hearing your voice in your head, it's so unfamiliar. You know it's you, but it feels like you're listening to a stranger. Or seeing one in the mirror.”

He nodded. “You're still you. None of it has changed who you are as a person, inside.”

“I know,” she said. “I'm sure I'll get used to it in time. I guess that's the good part. I don't have to think about it unless I'm looking into a mirror, and most people can't see it at all.”

He opened his mouth.

“Let's have this talk another time,” she said. “We have more important things to focus on. So, do you think you'll get anything after all this time?”

“I don't know,” he said. “I don't even know if this site was used for any of the magic. I doubt it, but it'll take only a few minutes to find out, and we haven't had any luck elsewise. It's a long shot, but maybe we'll get lucky.” He looked at her. “We can skip it and just go if you want to.”

Caitlin shook her head. “No, it's like you said—it couldn't hurt, and we have plenty of time to talk about the other thing.”

They got out of the car and scanned the area as they approached the locked gate.

“All clear,” Caitlin said, looking around.

Edward drew in a breath and focused his will, then whispered, “
Agor.
”

The lock popped open.

“Nice to know you can always fall back on a life of crime if your wizarding or psychiatric practice falls through,” Caitlin said.

“I am a very dangerous man,” Edward said as he opened the gate.

Caitlin chuckled as she stepped inside and started walking to the building.

“Why are you laughing? Are you forgetting that I once took on a demon?” he asked as he caught up to her.

“One time,” Caitlin said and winked.

“How many—?”

They both stopped as they came up to the building, seeing scorch marks and dozens of bullet holes on the walls.

“Dear God,” he said. “It really was a massacre.”

“Come on,” Caitlin said. “Let's see what we can find and get out of here.”

He nodded, and they started walking around the building. Edward scanned over it carefully but not needlessly slow. Any residual magic wouldn't be obvious. It was old, and that meant it would be weak if it was still there at all, but colored smoke did stand out from the background.

“Nothing?” Caitlin asked as they came to the last wall.

Edward shook his head, then stopped when they came to a door. “Wait.”

“What?”

Edward looked at the door closer. There was dark red smoke, so thin it was almost invisible against the rusted metal of the frame, and it was coming from around the door.

“I think there's something inside.”

Caitlin let out a sigh. “Of course there is. No way would it be on the outside of the burned-out building that's ready to collapse.”

Edward smiled. “I don't plan to go exploring every dark corner, but we can at least take a look inside from the doorway. This magic is weak, so it can't be far from the door.”

“Or it's huge and deep inside the building.”

Edward opened his mouth to protest but realized she could be right.

“I may not toss around magic,” she said. “But I do pay attention when you talk about it.”

“I stand corrected.”

“Yes, you do,” she said. “Now, danger-man, pop the lock and let's take a look inside so we can get the hell out of here. This place gives me the creeps. Might have something to do with the twenty-two murders that took place here, ten of which were the result of being burned alive.”

“They probably would've suffocated before the fire ever got to them,” Edward said as he looked at the door.

“Yeah, that doesn't really make it any better.”

“Someone beat us to it,” he said.

“What?”

Edward pushed the door open. “It's unlocked.”

“Now, that actually makes the creepy factor a little higher.”

They stepped just inside the door and were hit with the smell of mildew, stale smoke, and other smells Edward preferred not to think about. They had both worked at the hospital long enough that they knew how to cope with terrible stenches, but that didn't make them any less unpleasant.

Edward drew in his focus to weave a spell to light the inside of the building.

Caitlin produced an LED flashlight from her purse and clicked it on.

Edward glanced at it, then at her.

“I'm a mother,” Caitlin said as she cast the light around the building. “I could survive for three days and supply a modest ER with what I keep in my purse.”

Edward joined her looking around.

It wasn't large, as factories go. The main floor was open—broken only by occasional I-beam pillars—and littered with debris: both pieces of the collapsed roof and what might've once been furniture. The walls were covered in black soot, as was the floor where it was visible. On the few patches of wall unmarked by the fire was graffiti. He didn't see any obvious massive sources of magic inside, so he turned his attention to the door, door frame, and surrounding area.

“I've seen some of those symbols before,” Caitlin said.

Edward turned back and looked where she was shining her light. It was a section of wall that was covered in spray-painted symbols. At first he'd dismissed it as just run-of-the-mill graffiti, indecipherable to most people, but now it looked familiar.

“I think I've seen some in your books,” she said and noted one specifically. “That one especially.”

Edward narrowed his eyes and looked the symbol over. It was partially obscured by soot, but he could see a little over half of it. “You recognize it from that little bit?”

Caitlin nodded. “I think so.”

Edward thought back over his books. “Do you remember which one?”

“You're kidding, right? You should be impressed I recognized it at all, and I'll note that you didn't.”

“Your greatness has already been well established.”

“It's always good to reaffirm once in a while.”

Edward smiled. “You're amazing. Still.”

He flipped through books in his head, trying to find the symbol. That was a common misconception people had about eidetic memory, or as close to one as actually occurred. He did remember essentially everything he saw and read, but it wasn't all right at his fingertips. It was a lot of information to keep straight, and sometimes it took time to find what he was looking for.

“Do you remember when you saw it?” Edward asked. “Or what we were doing? Anything to give me some context.”

“I think it was around one of the times we went to the beach—”

“Got it!” he said as the book opened in his mind and the symbol became obvious. He read over the text around the symbol. “I think it's for—”

“Sightseeing?” asked a familiar voice from behind them.

Edward jumped and turned to see One standing behind him, flanked by two of his suited underlings. He glanced at Caitlin to find she had reacted more calmly. In fact, as Edward was readying a flame spell in his head, Caitlin had already stepped in front of him, her stance loose and relaxed, which he recognized as her fighting stance. He was really going to have to start going to those jeet kune do classes with her.

“Yep,” Caitlin said. “I'm a big true-crime fan; love visiting old crime scenes.”

Edward blinked, impressed with how quickly she'd come up with the lie and how well she delivered it. He almost believed it.

“Interesting choice,” One said. “But even so, this is private property.”

“Private property,” Caitlin said. “Not government property.”

“And is DHS in the habit of arresting people for trespassing now?” Edward asked.

“No,” One said. “But we are in the habit of arresting people for interfering with an investigation.” He looked Caitlin up and down and almost looked impressed. “You were both warned to stay out of this, and as a courtesy we left your memories intact—”

“As I recall,” Caitlin said, “it was Edward's ward and the threats of a teenaged girl that kept you from taking our memories.”

“You need to leave,” One said. “Now.”

“So do you,” said a deep voice from behind One and his men.

Edward glanced past the number men to see a massively built man with dark hair and eyes and distinctly bearish features. He was accompanied by three others, noticeably smaller and with more of a lupine look to them. Edward saw one of them was wearing a shirt with an old photo of four Native Americans on it that said Homeland Security. Fighting Terrorism Since 1492.

One reached into his suit jacket. “We're with—”

“Unless you're reaching for a warrant,” the one in the shirt said, “I don't care who you are or who you're with. You're trespassing, in case the locked gate and barbed wire fence didn't make that clear.”