Chapter 2

CHAPTER

TWO

I hadn't realized how many holes were in Zane's jacket until I started wearing it.

With the winter winds being slowly suffocated by the spring humidity, I no longer needed my thick jacket to keep me safe from the cold. Zane's "cool guy" leather jacket was perfect to keep the chill away, even if it was a little too big around the shoulders.

I was never going to tell him that, because he'd give me endless shit for it.

That fucker had been stabbed, shot and bitten at so many times that his jacket was basically scraps of frayed leather by the time I decided to adopt it. Sias had been kind enough to have it patched for me whenever I needed it, without question.

The beaten-up jacket was Zane's, and I couldn't bear the idea of losing any more of him.

My patched up, secondhand vampire jacket somehow still looked badass, even when I was walking side by side with a super model sex god. We were quite the mismatch of chic elegance and frumpy, yet handsome, tangle of tattoos and sleep deprivation. My blond hair was in desperate need of a cut, my thorny roses tattooed around my neck really accented the dark bruising under my blue eyes. Sias always looked like a stack of gold stuck with an adorable bum sporting punny shirts and a ripped up jacket.

Sias strolled with the lazy stride of a panther on the hunt, but one that was bored with the offerings of the world. The blue in his eyes lifted into more alert shades of turquoise and lilac, but the range was limited these days. It was rare I saw him take on any other shades than the blue and violet of a bruise, sometimes with spikes of yellow if he was reflecting on what had happened to us.

At least he was bruised and not bleeding. I felt like I was on the verge of collapse most days, my heart punctured and draining slowly with each passing day.

The spring day bit hard enough to bring me out of my misery, though it soothed that sting with a little bit of sunshine. The ice was thawed and gone from the sidewalks of St. Athesall, which allowed more foot traffic for businesses. Midtown was bustling with late breakfast hustle, the scent of pastries and coffee still clinging to the cool air.

The area Seyyid had sent us to investigate was painfully normal, without a scrap of evidence tape or murmurings of nosy civilians. Midtown wasn't an area of the city that stayed awake that late into the night, so it wasn't outrageous to believe that there had been very limited exposure to whatever the hell had happened.

Everything seemed boring. Typical. Normal.

Which was kinda disappointing.

Not that I wanted a damn tear into the void to still be present around a bunch of innocent people or anything. That would make me kind of a bastard, and I was trying to keep myself at "lovable scoundrel" levels. I was just hoping to get a peek into whatever the hell was going on, and a normal, sunny spring morning in Midtown wasn't helping us get very far.

"Maybe we could ask some of the locals," Sias offered as we scanned over the spot Seyyid had sent us to. "Someone had to have seen something."

"No one is going to talk if DHAP slapped them with an NDA," I explained. "It's not worth getting your life turned inside out legally. Midtown is generations of family businesses and regular people trying to keep their heads down. They're not going to spill to strangers." I kneeled and held my magic detector charm in my palm, hoping to get a little buzz of warning.

"You don't have connections out here? Informants?"

"I do." I stood, dusting grit off my jeans. "But even your money isn't going to get them to risk their dad's business. Ushen might talk if they've heard anything, but I don't have any human meat for trade."

"That does complicate things." Sias let his gaze float over the neighboring buildings and the ones across the street. "I'm assuming DHAP would have wiped any security cameras that may have caught anything."

"Wiped and burned," I agreed. "This is a dead end. Let's keep moving. Seyyid mentioned that there may have been more rips, hence why they've upped their patrol around here."

"We should be mindful to stay out of their way," Sias mumbled as he watched an "undercover" DHAP officer stroll across the street, the body language all wrong for a regular guy buying coffee. "They're going to notice us if we keep meandering around here."

"I'm guessing that if there were more in Midtown, they've already patched up any leaks," I explained as we abandoned the tear site and moved on. "But we're right on the edge of the Swallows, and we both know that place doesn't get the same type of attention. Maybe we can find looser lips there."

"One can hope." Sias fell into step beside me, colorful eyes on the lookout. "What sort of ‘creature' lives in the void, exactly?"

"Other than vampires, I haven't a clue." I shivered at the creeping cold feeling slipping up my spine. "By definition, the void is nothingness. It's death. Nothing alive can come from the void, unless a necromancer pulls it out like they do with Thralls."

"So life can materialize from the void," Sias offered. "Maybe a soul somehow breached the vale in the same way Thralls do."

"Gods above, I fucking hope not. What the hell would that even look like?"

"I suppose we'll find out, won't we?"

"You said that way too calmly," I pointed out, failing to suppress a laugh. "I'm the trained dead thing hunter and this whole thing is giving me a stomachache. How are you so relaxed? Is it the suit? Do I need to get a suit?"

"We don't know what we're up against, so I refuse to give it an ounce of my concern until proven otherwise," the richer-than-sin sex demon explained in a tone of absolute coolness. "I'll let you know once I've changed my mind."

"Noted."

It didn't take long for the cozy yet well-loved antique buildings of Midtown to take an abandoned turn. So much of the Swallows had been built up and stripped away that the borders seemed to be holding up out of pure spite. With the sharp ebbs and flow of a harsh economy, the more fragile pieces of St. Athesall had been left to fall in on itself while skyscrapers shot up like rockets.

The Swallows was alive in the cracks between poverty and prosperity, hardened by resolve, and refusing to be squashed out completely. Corner stores might have bars over the windows to keep them from being smashed in, but the neighborhood was tight knit and protected by a stitched together family of proximity.

I liked it there. It was honest, even if it was punctuated at times by violence.

"Are we looking for some human meat to give to your chatty connection?" Sias offered as we drifted deeper into the Swallows. "This is a rough side of town."

"Not exactly." I shoved my hands into Zane's jacket pockets. "I have some connections who will know if anything has happened within the Swallows, but I'm not going to lie—I'm not on the best terms with this guy."

"You don't say," he said flatly.

"Not everyone finds me as charming and handsome as you do." I batted my lashes at him and he huffed a laugh.

"Darling, I hate to be the one to reveal this to you, but you can be a bit…" He weighed his options in his head before slapping me with velvet truth. "Hard to digest for those not accustomed to sharp personalities."

"That is the nicest way anyone has ever called me a ‘pain in the ass.'"

"How much friction should we expect from these individuals you've pissed off?" Sias slipped his hands into his jacket, the wind moving some hair from his face as if he had commanded it to. "I only brought one extra clip with me, you know."

"Maybe Marthas has forgiven me after Florence paid him off? I did fuck his boyfriend though, so…" I tipped my hand from side to side. "We got a fifty-fifty on that one."

Sias tsked me. "Dallas."

"Not my best moment, okay? I can't believe I'm still dealing with the fallout over that." I shielded myself with Zane's jacket, my shoulders blocking the wind. "And I feel like an asshole about it."

"Well, asshole moment or no, he doesn't get to kill you over it." Sias adjusted his jacket, a flash of gold from his gun catching the light as it rested in the holster on his ribs. "I'm not in the mood to argue today."

"Let's hope he's not in an argumentative mood then."

Since it was so damn early in the morning, most people who thrive during the twilight hours were likely sound asleep. It didn't thrill me to be showing up in Marthas's territory to rouse him from his slumber, knowing full well he likely still wanted me skinned alive. Waiting until night to try and chat with the guy seemed like a stupid move since he'd have more goons around him, and the fact that the veil between our realities was fraying put a sense of urgency to my travels.

I hadn't been back to Biodome since the fateful night of my Big Ass Mistake, and the building was a slumbering giant in the sunlight. I was used to the place being alive with dancing bodies and pulsing neon lights, but it seemed almost sickly when it was closed up and resting. It was easier to see the cracks and stains, how dirty the neon lights were when they weren't distracting you with brilliance.

"I don't think anyone is here currently," Sias mused as we wandered around behind the club, stepping over the scattered cigarette butts and pieces of broken beer bottles. "It seems very empty."

"He has an apartment below," I tossed over my shoulder. "I think there's a back way in, but I have to remember where."

The door in question made itself known after we rounded a dumpster, a faded "employee only" sticker dying a slow death stuck above the knob.

"This seems like a risky move," Sias commented as I wiggled my lock pick around in the guts of the handle. "There's no alarms?"

"No one would be stupid enough to break into this place." I jiggled the pick around a bit more, scraping against the pins. "Marthas isn't known to be understanding."

Sias exhaled through his nose, checking his weapon casually as I jammed the last bit of defiance out of the knob.

The door released, and we stepped through into the dark, quiet hallway of a silent, criminal club. The iconic dome that gave the place its name was cloudy, muting the sunlight as it tried to sneak its way inside. The intrusive light was harsh against the scraped dance floor and scuffed bar counters, the smell of disinfectant and mold clung to the walls.

Being back unlocked some old memories, half buried behind a wall of haze brought on by my tendency to indulge in party drugs, yet clear enough to tap dance across my sore heart.

The last time I was inside this stupid place, I was sprinting away from a lot of emotions I didn't understand. It felt sobering to be back there in the silence and sunshine of daylight, when there had been so much darkness and deafening distractions prior.

I pulled Zane's jacket tighter around myself, noting the stitching where a knife had plunged through it. My body shivered from the memory of red eyes in a strobing light, the remembered smell of blood and spilled alcohol making my stomach twist.

There was something else haunting this place beyond my heartache and regrets though, something dark and rotten.

Something dead. Something that perhaps was never fully alive. A chill danced its fingers across my soul, like the Death Goddess was tapping me on the shoulder and I couldn't take a breath.

The black veins on the floor were swallowing the light, made of shadow and nothing, and I felt my blood turn cold.

"Fuck."

"This place feels like a tomb," Sias whispered. "Something is wrong."

"It is a tomb," Marthas's voice found us before I could locate him, my hand reaching for my weapon in vain.

The mountainous imp glowered at us from the bar, his gun trained on us lazily while he sipped coffee. If I thought the sunlight was harsh on the interior of the club, then it was brutal on the obviously exhausted gang leader parked at the bar. Marthas was a mess of sleep-deprived anger, the bags under his eyes as telling as the three-day old sweats he sat in.

"It's a goddamn cemetery," he finished after taking a long gulp of coffee. "And haunted at that."

"What the hell happened here, Marthas?" I asked, daring to take another glance at the black scars running across the floor. "What is that?"

"I was hoping you could tell me, being as you're the necromancy guy and all." He gestured to the ground with the barrel of his gun. "That's all that's left after that fucking tear ripped open during a Saturday night."

"Did your DHAP officers mention a club?" Sias asked me, and I shook my head. "How did you keep this from getting out?"

"Better question." Marthas pulled the hammer back on his gun. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Be nice," I warned. "We came here to ask you if you heard about tears happening in the Swallows. We got a heads up from some DHAP contacts that this shit was happening, but I had no idea one went off in your club."

"Seems like an awful coincidence that my life gets fucked sideways out of nowhere and then suddenly you show up, Wilde." Marthas tried to make my head pop with the hatred in his glare.

"I appreciate that you think I'm somehow a fucking wizard, but I assure you I'm just a regular badass, and very much ill-equipped to summon a tear into the void." I showed him my palms and tried my best to sound amicable. "Can we pretend to not hate each other for just a little bit?"

"I'm not that good of an actor. Plus, I really hate you." The barrel of his weapon flicked in a bored yet threatening gesture. "Toss your weapons to the ground and kick them over."

Sias made his stance on the request known immediately. "I'm not doing that."

"It'll be easier if we just humor him." I pulled my gun free from my waistband and placed it on the ground, kicking it toward the bar with a soccer style tap using the side of my foot.

"You too, handsome," Marthas drawled. "I know you have a piece under that jacket."

"I'm not putting my expensive, custom automatic with gold plating and ivory handle on the ground and scuffing it with a kick," Sias clarified. "You'll just have to shoot me."

This information was news to me, and I stared at my complicated, hot as hell and clearly a little nuts friends with benefits like the mad man he was.

"You brought a gold-plated gun on our recon mission?"

"Of course." He aimed his eyebrows at me like I was the one being ridiculous. "It matches my horns."

"Maybe bringing you was a mistake."

"Set it on the fucking stool and back away. Gods above, fucking incubi." Marthas pointed to the stool in front of the bar. "You're more trouble than you're worth."

Sias exhaled like he was doing us all a favor by complying, and sauntered over to Marthas with about as much urgency as an annoyed house cat.

A gun-shaped slab of gold and ivory privilege was placed on the bar stool and Sias stepped backwards to meet me back at my side.

"We good now?" I asked Marthas. "My ugly gun and his monstrosity are now on your side."

"You didn't answer my question." Marthas aimed his ire and weapon back on Sias. "And you are?"

"Annoyed," Sias deadpanned, unfazed by Marthas's flex, his eyes remaining a cool blue. "You know who I am, we can stop with the power play. Your desperation to seem in control is boring."

The stubble on Marthas's jaw rippled as he clenched his teeth, gaze swiveling back to me.

"I'm not here to cause trouble, man," I repeated. "Truce. Cease fire. You can go back to hating me after we get this figured out. I'm sure void tears are bad for business."

"How do I know the moment I lower my gun that your guard dog vampire isn't going to swoop in and cause shit?" he spat. "You think I didn't notice he wasn't here?"

Sias's eyes swirled a sharp yellow as I felt the knife of grief twist in my side.

"He's dead," I replied, my lips numb.

"Bullshit."

"That's your one," Sias hissed, venom lacing his words. "Tread carefully."

Whether it was the exhaustion finally winning over, or the fact that Sias looked ready to rip him into pieces, Marthas finished his coffee as he eased the hammer down and set the gun on the bar.

"Alright, Wilde." He rubbed at his eyes. "Truce. I'm too fucking tired to handle the mountain of bullshit you bring with you."

"Great. Now, tell me everything that happened that night. What did you see? Did anything happen leading up to the tear? Anything you remember."

"Nothing happened beforehand," he told me as I made my way cautiously to the black markings lacing the floor. "It was a regular night, maybe around one AM. One minute it was just a normal night, then the next the floor opened up like a mouth. I was on the balcony above when it happened."

"Do your bouncers have magic blockers and detectors?" Sias asked, and Marthas nodded. "Did they pick up a surge?"

"Yeah. Death magic." Marthas shivered, rubbing his big arms like the chill was too much. "It went out like a ripple, set off all alarms."

The darkness carved into the wood was matte and stained with death, spidering out from the healed gash curved up like a crooked smirk.

"Gods, don't touch it!" Marthas barked as I ran my finger across the gash, haunted by the unnatural cold that seeped up from the floor.

"This was the void," I confirmed. "Traces of it are knitted into this reality."

"We can't get it out," Marthas strained, swallowing back fear. "I tried to hire someone to rip the floorboards up, but no one will go near it. I don't blame them."

"People were dancing here when…" I asked, but Marthas was already nodding, eyes shut to shield himself from the memory.

"Yeah. Four people fell in before the crowd realized what was happening. It caused a panic, and we evacuated before it could take more people out. One of my guys threw a life magic infused overdose kit into it, and it choked it out before it could spread more. We got fucking lucky, Wilde. It was going to take this whole damn place down."

"How did you keep this quiet?" Sias kept his distance from the floor, but studied the markings with curious, purple eyes.

"Paid off the families affected and shut the place down. Told everyone it was an unfortunate accident with the floor caving in." Marthas smoothed his messy, short hair back over his stubby horns. "No one really saw much during the panic. Easier to believe the floor caved in over the goddamn void eating people."

"Not to freak you out more, but my DHAP connections mentioned a creature. Did you see anything like that when the floor opened up?" I tested the floor with a push of my fingers, relieved it didn't give.

"I heard that too, but no. Thank fucking God, no creature." Marthas leaned against the bar, forgetting to keep his steely features from sliding into humbling fear. "What the fuck is going on, Wilde? What could cause this?"

"I don't know. This has to be a new necromancer playing with forces they shouldn't, and I'm going to track their ass down." I pulled my knife free and carved a chunk of the void stained wood out. It felt like a piece of thawing ice in my hand, not cold enough to burn but still chilled me down to the bone.

My magic blocker hummed with warning as the piece was placed in my pocket, a dull pulse of death magic detection going off from the proximity.

"Do you know of any other tears in the Swallows?" I asked Marthas. "I'm hoping maybe these things have a pattern, or something that makes sense."

"No, but I have ears on the ground." Marthas hefted his large form from the bar and rolled his neck, but the tension in his shoulders didn't ease. "If any pop up on my side of town, I'll relay the info."

"Anything you get is useful. By the way, I moved, so you can't just swing by and knock my door in again. You'll need to call me." I pulled a card from my pocket and waved it.

"I know you moved, and I don't need your idiotic card." Marthas snatched his coffee mug off the counter. "And I'll stop kicking in your door when you stop stealing my shit, like that jacket you're wearing."

"You'll have to pull this off my corpse." I plucked at the collar of the jacket, the faint scent of grave flowers and rainwater still present enough to drive a needle into my heart. "Plus, you look like you've been wallowing in the same sweatpants for days. I don't want your sad stink all over it."

"I'm going to get that jacket back, Wilde," Marthas promised. "You're too stupid to stay out of my territory, and you won't always have a cheap shot vampire or a gold smuggling sugar daddy with you."

"You two act like you've never seen gold plating before," Sias grumbled. "It's not that uncommon."

"He's actively threatening me and you're mad he's making comments about your gun?"

"Oh, please." Sias rolled his teal eyes. "You're threatened daily, darling. I can't take them all seriously."

"Get this shit fixed, Wilde," Marthas cut back in. "I don't know how, but I feel like this is somehow your fault."

"What the fuck did I do?" I scoffed. "I'm just as dumbfounded about this crap as you are. I don't go around opening portals to the void for kicks, man."

"Call it a hunch," he spat. "Get out of my club. Take your ugly brick of gold with you."

The grizzled imp lumbered off to go feel sorry for himself and eat dirt, and I retrieved my gun from the ground. Sias's ugly gold brick was slipped back into a holster, and we left through the busted back door we came in from.

"Always lovely to catch up with Marthas."

"That's two instances we've heard about tears being sealed with life magic," Sias mused as we put Biodome behind us. "Which makes sense, but I imagine that won't solve the problem forever."

"With my necromancer powers being crap now, the one silver lining is that I can use life magic again without it turning me into a walking skeleton." My leg tingled with the memory of my leg sizzling away into a charred, bony nightmare during my last healing visit. "So we can at least bring some life magic with us in case we run into anything. In the meantime, we can bring this piece of the wood from the club to Dex, see if she can make use of it."

"Have you ever seen anything like that?" Sias's eyes turned a frosty blue as I examined the piece of void tainted wood in the sunlight. "Just looking at it makes me feel cold."

The warmth of the sun refused to seep into the material, the blackness void of any features or logical temperature.

"No," I admitted, a twinge of fear snaking up my spine. "Which means we have to find more."

"I was optimistic you'd say the opposite."

"We're not going to stop this unless we can follow the tears to the source. Whoever is doing this is unstable to say the least." I pocketed the piece and felt the cold nipping through the fabric of my pocket. The chill of death unsettled the most human part of myself, the ever-present knowledge that one day, inevitably, I would be joining the darkness as all dead things do. Hell, I'd been there and back so many times, I practically had a punch card. One more trip and I might be able to get vacation property.

There was a quiet place that festered near my broken heart, coated with madness and reckless loss, that was excited to feel the cold again.

It was closer to me now than it had been since the scythe was taken. Since my powers had been stripped away.

Since Zane died.

He was closer to me now than he had been in months.

It thrilled me. It made me dangerous. Selfish.

If those tears could be made, if there was a way to pop the window open to the void without having to dedicate a lifetime to learning necromancy, it was worth finding.

I'd stop whoever was responsible after I had the chance to get my vampire back.