“I’ll get it. We’re expecting a delivery.” Erik jogs away.
I watch him rush up to a door at the end of the aisle, open it, and stare out into space. The skin on my arms prickles into gooseflesh. Something’s wrong here.
Who opens a door and stands there like a statue?
I move closer to Erik. He looms in the doorway, blocking my view of the alley beyond. I can’t see his face, but there’s a crimson glow around his cheeks, almost like his eyes are glowing red. Erik’s voice comes out in a strange monotone. “Please come in. I’ll show you around.”
I step closer. “Stop right there, buddy.”
Erik flips around to face me. “Stop what?”
I do a double-take. Erik’s eyes are the typical thrax mismatch of brown and blue. No sign of demonic red. Any trace of a monotone is gone from his speech, too. I shake my head. This morning has been a lot of excitement after an intense all-nighter. My mind must be playing tricks on me.
“Look, Erik. You were about to invite someone in and give a tour of the warehouse. Not acceptable. This place stays on lock-down until we find the Orb.”
Erik looks at me like I’m nuts. “I wasn’t talking to anyone. Look for yourself.”
I pop my head through the opened doorway and into the alley beyond. It’s empty. Huh.
“See?” asks Erik. “No one’s there. The knocks were probably a prank from some kids.”
I scan the alleyway again. Still empty.
“A prank, eh? One of yours, Erik?”
“Not this time.”
I’m so sure.
Still, the situation with the mystery knock-and-run brings up a good question. This is a huge warehouse, and we definitely need to keep it secure between now and tomorrow at 6:17AM. As Minister of Infrastructure, Walker’s in charge of providing guards for all government buildings. I seek him out and pull him aside.
“Hey, do you have enough security folks for this place?”
Walker tilts his head to one side, thinking. “Enough to cover through tomorrow, sure.”
“Cool. And however many you’d normally put on a high-risk building, can you double it?”
“That won’t be as easy, but I think I can manage it.”
“Thanks.” I watch the little tin bird flap around the warehouse, landing from box to box. “This is way too important to leave anything to chance.”
“Agreed.” Walker’s mouth thins to a worried line. “I’ll take care of all the plans personally.”
Chapter Eight
Lincoln and I stand in the warehouse, alone. The Alchemists and Cissy are gone, having done an awesome day’s work. Walker’s waiting outside for us. Lincoln and I take a quick stroll around the warehouse interior, double-checking that all the new guards are in place. Tomorrow’s a huge day, and we want everything to be secure.
As we make our rounds, some of the tightness and anxiety fades from my body. The warehouse looks good. Really good. Walker gave us some top-notch guards. I’d even like to fight a few in the Arena, just to see how they’d do.
After one last check, Lincoln and I step out the back. It’s not even six o’clock yet, but since the alley’s bordered by tall buildings, it gets pitch dark out here pretty quickly. A bare light bulb hangs above the warehouse door, casting a dim glow onto the cracked asphalt. I scan the darkened alley.
No guards are here, only Walker. That’s odd. The building’s exterior should be secured by now.
Walker leans against the opposite wall, his thumbs hooked into the belt loops of his jeans. A strange gleam dances in his eyes. “Are we all ready to go?”
I tilt my head to one side. “Mmmmmmmmaybe.”
I’ve known Walker my whole life, so I can tell when he’s up to something. And the way he looks now? It’s the exact face he’d give me before sneaking my teenage tuchus into the Arena. He knew Mom hated the thought of me spending time watching demon battles, so he always played it cool. Even so, he could never hide the odd glimmer in his eyes from me.
Something is so up. “Where are all the guards, Walker?”
“I’ve asked them to hold off for a while.” He rocks a bit on his heels. “Are you two ready or what?”
I glance over to Lincoln. He’s got his Se?or Sneaky face on, which means he’s caught on to whatever’s up with Walker, too.
“Almost, one last thing.” Lincoln wraps me into a deep hug and whispers in my ear. “Adair’s here. Walker held off his guard so we could do a little recon, find out what she’s up to. Care you join us?”
“Oh, yes.” One of the many advantages of being in a serious relationship with a demon hunter is that you never get surprised in a deserted alley.
“Excellent.” Lincoln steps back from our embrace and faces the darkest part of the alley. “Lady Adair, as your High Prince, I command you to halt and speak with me.”
Three figures scramble in the darkness: Lady Adair and two huge ghouls, one of whom is taller and has a limp. I’d know that tall guy anywhere; he’s the Ghoul Diplomat to Purgatory. What a creep. A low hum sounds, the unmistakable mark of a ghoul portal opening and closing.