“I don’t see anything,” Adam responded, but he pulled the car over to double-park.
Annabella peered out the window, though she didn’t know what to look for either. There were no big churches, only a Manhattan street busy with morning traffic under an overcast sky that looked as chilly as it felt. Irregular buildings crowded the sidewalk, some fat and blocky, studded with small businesses—a Starbucks, deli, cleaners—while others reached into the sky, only to be blunted before they touched the low-hanging clouds. The street looked harsh, the sky menacing, and the combination of the two…wolfy.
She wrapped her jacket tighter around her. “Are you in trouble?”
As soon as the words left her lips, her uneasy feeling coalesced into certainty.
He was in trouble, and it was her fault.
The performance. If he were going to get reprimanded for the catastrophe of last night, she was glad she was here. Custo had done his best. She’d screwed up. She’d been so caught up in the moment, in herself, that she hadn’t realized what was happening. And Wolf got away. If anyone had to answer for the disaster, it should be her.
Custo got out of the car without answering. Without looking at her. That was it then; she’d gotten him in trouble. Well, she’d just have to fix it.
Annabella joined him on the sidewalk with Adam, who had left the car in the street. Whatever they were going to do had to be really important not to take the time to park. A cab blared its displeasure at being stopped.
Yet Custo and Adam seemed only concerned with finding an address. Annabella kept glancing over her shoulder at the skulk of shadow near an alley, or the black-eyed face of a pedestrian, or the sudden growl of a garbage truck accelerating. Broad daylight and she was starting to shake again.
If there were such a thing as women’s intuition, and recent freaky events led her believe that anything was possible, then something was watching them. Had to be Wolf. Tracking her movements. Stalking her.
“This way,” Custo said, his face turned up into the sky in a grim kind of awe that confused the heck out of her and made her stomach clutch, too.
But he led them toward a grimy alleyway too dark for her comfort. Uh…Wolf anyone?
“Custo?” Adam asked.
Custo took a deep breath. “You don’t see it?”
“See what?” Annabella asked.
“I see a tower,” he said, “a narrow obelisk, smooth like a dagger cutting the sky. Its facade is some kind of white marble that seems to be absorbing the light of the day. There are no windows, except at the top, where there are two dark slits, like some kind of medieval castle.”
Custo glanced over at them.
She shrugged. Nope, couldn’t see nothin’. And people were beginning to stare.
“Well, you both are coming with me,” he said.
Custo took her arm on one side, and Adam took her other. With his free hand, Custo seemed to turn the handle on an imaginary door. With his forward momentum, she stepped off the city sidewalk and into a blindingly bright hall. The transition was sudden and jarring. She stumbled for balance, gripping their hands to find her center of gravity, but gravity seemed to be pulling at her from strangely oblique angles. The sounds of the city—traffic, an occasional pop-bop of music, and a scrap of talk—were still audible, but distorted. The intense glow of the place had her eyes straining to focus, her mind struggling to sense depth and delineation in the glaring fog.
“They can’t come in here,” a male voice said. One minute the source was a distant smudge of color, and the next, he was in front of them. He was tall, a little lanky, with dark hair over black eyes. He dressed in jeans and a white T-shirt, his upper body fit enough to permit little loose fabric.
“Breaking all the rules already, Custo?” the man asked with a knowing smile.
When Custo didn’t answer, the man shifted his attention. His manner seemed only politely interested, but his gaze looked right into her. He held out his hand, and Annabella took it out of habit.
“I’m Luca,” he said. “Custo’s great-great uncle. You’d think as his elder, he’d listen to me more often.”
She didn’t actually see much of a resemblance between the two. Their coloring, body type, and bearing were all different. And Luca was trying to be charming, a trait she’d yet to see Custo attempt to exercise.
“I’m here now, aren’t I?” Custo cut in. Case in point.
Luca moved on to Adam, who took the outstretched hand and shook it firmly. “Adam Thorne.”
Luca inclined his head and stepped back to address all of them, hands up in an apology. “I’m sorry. Annabella and Adam, you are not permitted within the tower.”
Kicking us out just like that? Annabella glanced at Custo to gauge his response. When he didn’t say anything, she looked back at Luca.
“I see your point,” Luca answered.
What point? Did someone speak? The haziness of the place must have been affecting her brain.