16. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

T he Dusk Quarter was no less welcoming than it had been the first time. Locals stared beneath dark lashes, few scarcely daring to look on openly. The few that tried, Aya glared until their composure crumpled, and they wilted away into the shadows. Still, the whispers lingered, eddying out of sight, tangling so tightly together there was no way to decipher the exact order. Only snatches were gleaned, and none of it was kind.

The insults and sneers; the cold, mistrustful looks; those who purposefully turned and walked the other way, or those who simply crossed to the other side of the street; all of it slid off her shoulders. Tiny droplets, forgotten in the dirt.

If Alexios or Tobias minded the attention, they showed no sign. Shoulders touching, a matching pair advancing side by side, the sight made her ache for Elaine.

She strode a step ahead of the others, ruffling her wings. They ached to stretch out but the streets around them pinched in closely. It might've been only a few weeks since they appeared on her back, but her body was still getting used to the new weight. She just wished her muscles adjusted a little faster.

The crowds thinned out as they moved toward the fringes of the settlement. The buildings were larger double story warehouses, sporting flat roofs and smooth gray brick. Merchants kept them for storage purposes, with the factories needing adequate ventilation situated across the quarter where natural openings allowed smoke to escape. Aya knew narrow tunnels were carved into the cavern ceilings, piercing right through to the surface.

Flickering lanterns spluttered along the road, leaving shadows creeping out. Lazily almost, spidery fingers cloying across the hardened ground, hungry for whatever scraps of light lay within their path. This was a realm unto itself, full of secrets, and of back-alley deals gone terribly wrong.

It was little wonder following her ex's trail led to such a place. One, as it turned out, she'd visited before.

Aya slowed her pace as she eyed the warehouse. The plain exterior with little windows along the top floor and doors at the bottom reminded her of a scowling face, just as ugly as she recalled. She'd wandered those halls to remove the head of a particularly unsavory owner who had an interest in the skin trade.

Behind her, Alexios cursed softly. "Aya…"

"What—" She cut herself as a cold feeling washed over her. The bitter stench of death brushed against her lips, stealing right into her chest as she inhaled deeply. Someone had died—recently. Her blood cooled.

Not again.

Fighting a string of curses, she closed her eyes, stretching out her mind for any hint of a soul. Much of the warehouse was empty, great rooms left bare by hard times, and offices stripped of anything worth selling. She started to withdraw when her mind snagged on a stirring of fresh death. It led her like the trail for a bloodhound. Through a wide hallway with discolored squares on the walls where paintings once hung—she vaguely recalled the old owner enjoying scenery settings. Innocent at a glance, hiding the fact each one detailed where the bodies of his victims were buried.

She pushed on, following the thread up a set of stairs. A door gaped open, splattered with blood. Barely a foot inside the room, a spirit shimmered over a body—a man, the very one she recognized as the trader Marisol dealt with. A cousin, if she remembered correctly, of the man she murdered.

Aya withdrew, squaring her shoulders. Blinking several times, her vision cleared. The looming shape of the warehouse, cloaked in shadow and death, reappeared. A heaviness settled in her gut as she spoke. "Owner dead inside. Can't sense anyone else."

Alexios's nostrils flared. "It smells fresh and the fact I'm even scenting it out here tells me there's a lot of blood. We should keep our guard up. The killer might be close by."

"One can only hope." She glided forward the door, her mouth curved into a wicked grin.

"And people accuse my kind of being blood thirsty."

Her smile only deepened, saying nothing as she slipped in first. Wood creaked underfoot, the old planks protesting their arrival. Even the walls seemed to lean in, trying in some desperate way to squeeze them out, to hide the neglect within. Deep cracks splintered up along the worn plaster and across the ceiling. Dust and webs gathered in the corners, their creator a dead husk on the floor.

Whatever this warehouse had been used for, the owners cared very little for its upkeep. This was simply a means to an end.

Tobias glided past her, running his hand along the wall where he gathered up a pile of dust upon the tip of his finger. "This doesn't make sense."

Aya hummed in agreement as she headed in the direction of the office.

"Perhaps we should make inquiries with Nora after this. If anyone knows what has happened here, it would be her."

Aya's mouth clamped shut. The last thing she wanted to do was become further entangled with Nora. She might've been an old friend once, but that experience gave Aya enough knowledge to know her ‘friend' would throw her to the wolves if it meant protecting her people. Ironically, a sentiment Aya did respect, but made her wary all the same.

She kept her silence as they reached the stairs. The scent of blood thickened, heavy against her skin. Tiny droplets marked the stairs, likely from the killer on their escape. As they neared the top, the door gaping open, Aya spied the ghost of the owner. He was still staring at his body, not even registering as Aya approached the door.

There her blood ran cold.

The room was covered in blood. Great arcs of crimson splashed the wall and floor. His own body was as much of a mess. Something appeared to have mauled him to death, tearing his chest open. Even his throat was opened to a grim smile, a far cry from the terrified scream fixed upon his face.

"I wondered if you would come for me," the dead man said distractedly.

Aya circled around, eyeing the body for a moment longer before she looked up. "You remember me?"

"You killed my uncle—yes, I remember you." The man shrugged. "Don't worry, I'm not holding any grudge over that affair. He was a monster."

A little tension bled from her shoulders. "Yes, he was."

"You know what is quite funny?" he mused.

"What?"

"I'm dead. I know I am dead but for the life of me, I can't remember one minute of how it happened. Can't even leave this damned room, so I'm stuck here with my own corpse and no answers." He tilted his head, seeming to consider her carefully for a moment. "You're a necromancer. Don't suppose you have any insight?"

"Never had the training, I'm afraid," she said. "But how you died isn't what brought us here. What was the deal you had going with Councilor Marisol?"

For someone already dead, he paled even further. Terror bled into his eyes, the truth of being trapped in the room hitting hard. In the corner of her gaze, Alexios and Tobias, who couldn't see the man, must've seen the tense expression pinching her face because they stopped, staring warily.

She stared the dead man down. "So? What was your little deal because I somehow doubt it was to obtain a ridiculous amount of dresses."

He flinched away, pressing himself deeper into the room, to the shadows, as if it might offer protection—from her, of all people.

"I can't say!"

"Can't or won't?"

His lips worked open and shut, reminding her of a floundering fish, desperate to be anywhere else. It was his fear that pricked her interest because it gave her the distinct impression it wasn't for her. Rather, something else scared him, something he believed could still touch him in death. But what? They felt no pain and their minds were already fracturing.

"I can help release you from this room," she said. "If you're scared of someone, that way you can run and if you head toward my territory, you can enter safely. No one can touch you."

Except demons.

She hoped that wasn't who was after him.

He bit his lip. "That won't be enough. They will find me."

"If they were so scared of you talking, then they would've obliterated your—" Aya froze. She raked her fingers through her hair, releasing a shuddery breath. "They weren't afraid of us speaking."

Unease crawled across her skin.

Vaguely, she wondered if the demons were somehow entangled with this man's death—though if they were his employers or his killers, she couldn't be certain. Zari's own attack on her life made no sense either.

"So, what is it you were hiding?"

"I can't—"

"If they were concerned with you talking to me, or any of that, then I assure you, we would not be having this conversation."

Sensing she was acting just as someone intended, she ploughed ahead anyway.

The man sighed, then spoke, his voice resigned. "Feel your hand underneath the top. If you're lucky, whoever killed me didn't take my ledger."

Her fingers brushed against a small button. As she pressed it in, a little click sounded. Something weighty dropped into her hand. She drew it back out, revealing a small leather-bound ledger. A small string held it shut. She pulled the tie and peered inside.

The contents detailed body collections, hundreds of them. Fresh corpses dug up from the various graveyards scattered throughout Purgatory; from the Field of Death the banshees guarded by their river; to the syrens sacred underwater burial site beneath Lake Vedara; and every other conceivable location.

Aya glanced at the man. "Why would Marisol and Honoria want dead bodies?"

He shrugged. "I never asked. I was simply the middleman. I didn't even procure the bodies. They came into my warehouse, and I facilitated their delivery into the Inner District."

Her stomach churned. She might drop more bodies than perhaps her kin would ever be okay with; but she left the bodies alone and for the most part, allowed the dead to transition into the afterlife. This was sacrilegious, and though Aya was unsure of her precise feelings about her goddess, even she understood the depth of this insult.

She set the book inside of her satchel and eyed the body across the room. "Don't suppose any of you can pick up a scent off the body?"

"About that," said Alexios as he paused for a moment before continuing on, "I didn't recognize it at first, but Tobias confirmed my fears. It would appear he was mauled to death by a vampire, one infected by a disease I thought we had long since dealt with."

Aya tilted her head at the pair. She vaguely recalled attacks five or so years ago, and the rumors that ‘rogue' vampires did it. Nothing concrete came to light and eventually other dramas arose, burying the rumors until they were only a vague memory. "A vampire did this?"

"Has the same faintly sick scent. I thought I was imagining it but there's no mistaking it."

Her mind churned. Was this by the hand of this mysterious council member or someone else? There was one person who, loathe as she was to admit it, was likely to have some answers. One who very little got past, a keeper of secrets within Purgatory.

"We should go see Nora."

Alexios cleared his throat. "Very well, but we need to be quick. If this disease has returned, I need them to be prepared."

"Is there a cure?" she asked.

Shadows darkened his eyes. "No."

"And the chance it has something to do with the disease affecting the rest of Purgatory?"

Alexios's mouth opened before he shut it quickly. Disappointment flashed across his face as he spoke. "I don't know."

Nora's club was in full swing by the time they squeezed through the writhing, restless crowd. A syren was on stage, her sultry voice filling every nook and crevice with her melodic song. Heat cloyed at her skin, drawing rivulets of sweat along her brow. The heady perfumes filled every breath until her head ached, the edges of her vision blurring a little. Aya had to force herself to actively block out the song, feeling the pull toward the bar and drinks like a nagging hand at her shirt.

The guards at the base of the stairs to Nora's office stepped aside. It seemed they were expected.

Up the creaking stairs and past the images of her past, Nora awaited them in her office. Reclined regally on one of the wing-back chairs by the low-burning fire, dressed in a shimmering red dress. Her curls were swept over one shoulder, braided intricately with gems. It was a little fancier than Aya expected, and she wondered if Nora had just attended an event—or was leaving shortly for one.

"A bit of a bloody mess at the warehouse, wasn't it?" Nora drawled, beckoning them to sit with her by the fire,

Aya remained standing, her mind still churning over the discoveries they'd made. Alexios, however, sat down with Tobias lingering by his side. One hand rested on his mate's shoulder, and Alexios set his own hand over it, squeezing back.

"It's good to see you two so open," said Nora with a smile. "I remember—"

"We didn't come here to discuss the past," Aya cut in. "What do you know of the murder?"

Nora leveled a lingering look her way, the same way she used to back when Aya was sixteen. An attempt to scold the sharp tone but Aya wasn't the child anymore, her skin far thicker than it used to be. This was all a game with Nora. They were being tested about how forthcoming they were going to be with their own information. Asking such simple questions, as though they were all friends, was simply the first step.

"My little birds spied a vampire," Nora said softly, and she tilted her head. "But from Alexios's expression, I presume you already determined that. Beyond that, I was aware of an organ harvesting operation occurring in the warehouse. Human parts, for instance, are worth a fair bit dried up. Vampires go nuts for it."

Aya carefully schooled her features. So, either Nora was lying, or she was ignorant about the full extent of the operations.

"It wasn't just humans," Aya said tersely. "Your own kind were carved up, sent to Marisol in the Inner District. Is that what you do now? Serve up the bodies of your own kind?"

Nora froze.

An uneasy quiet claimed the office. Nora finally schooled her face into a picture of perfect calm. She leaned forward, a creature of pure predatory lethality, and looked Aya dead in the eyes. Gone was the teasing, sultry air; this was the real Nora.

"How many? How many of my kind did they butcher?"