Chapter 45 Leo
The phone felt heavy in my hand as I stormed out of the Lockwood house, pavement cracking under my boots and the night air sharp in my lungs. My pulse was a drum beating against the cage of my ribs. I didn’t wait for thought. I dialed.
“Edward,” I barked into the phone before it even connected. “Trace her. Try her phone. Try anything.”
There was a crackle on the other end and then his voice, calm but tense. “I’m trying, Leo. No signal. It’s like she’s been wiped clean.” His words landed on me like cold water.
I ran a hand through my hair and began pacing in the driveway, boots scuffing gravel. Kristen’s phone had once been a lifeline to her. Now it was silence. No ping. No location trail. Nothing. Clean slate. Empty space.
“Then we need context,” I said, my voice gritty. “If the gargoyle’s trying to get home, it’ll look for a place close to the gate. Somewhere close to the fabric. A thin spot near reality.”
Edward paused. I could hear the gears turning on his end, the slow click of scanning and cross‑referencing. “That’s actually a solid lead,” he said finally. “I’ll start scanning for unoccupied structures near the outer fabric. Places that shouldn’t have any magical activity.”
“Do it,” I said, clenching my jaw. “And tell the Bloodhounds to stay sharp. Anyone with sight, tell them to drift near known thin spots.”
“On it,” Edward said, and then the connection cut.
I closed my eyes and let the night press against me. Kristen’s last words, her last sound, her fear and confusion, played behind my eyes in a relentless loop. I needed to find her. I needed to find her now.
Before I could take another step, I heard boots on pavement. Anna.
She appeared beside me like she had a right to be there, urgency written into her stance. Her eyes were fierce, more grown‑up than moments ago, but there was worry threaded through it.
“I want to go with you,” she said, breathless, voice steady in the chaos of my thoughts.
“No,” I said flatly. My head didn’t turn. My body didn’t pause. I didn’t need to shake her off. I needed to be clear.
That didn’t stop her.
“Why not?” she pressed, stepping closer, her gaze fixed on mine. “I’m strong. I can—”
“What can you do,” I interrupted, voice low and sharp, “make objects shiny?”
Her eyes widened, flush coloring her cheeks for a moment before she shook her head. “I can change the temperature of water,” she said, tone a mix of irritation and sincerity.
I didn’t laugh. Not in the face of what was happening. My voice stayed controlled. “I’ll take you with me if the gargoyle is hiding her in water.”
Her gasp wasn’t laughter. It was shock. “Wait,” she said, eyes bright with a mix of fear and disbelief, “gargoyles? Those are real?”
“Yes,” I said, voice calm and heavy. “And not just rumors. Real enough to break reality if not stopped.”
She swallowed. Then she asked the question I didn’t want to answer but knew was coming next. “What about the Bloodhounds? Are they real too?”
Before I could reply, another buzz on my phone sliced through the moment. It was Edward again.
“Leo,” he said, voice clipped and fast, “I just triangulated the search to a five‑mile radius. Two potential locations popped up.”
I didn’t waste a breath. “What are they?”
“There are two unoccupied properties,” Edward said. “A warehouse full of concrete and a storage unit on 24th and Smith.”
I exhaled slowly. My training, my instinct, my bloodhound sense all synced together. “The gargoyle wouldn’t go near dry concrete. It drives them mad,” I said immediately. I didn’t even have to think.
“What’s left?”
“Storage unit,” Edward replied. “I’m sending you the pin now.”
My phone buzzed, the location dropping into my map. It wasn’t far from campus. It wasn’t far from the thin edge of reality where magic throbbed under skin and stone.
I turned to Anna. She was watching me, lips parted slightly, eyes full of that raw worry that she tried hard to bury beneath bravado.
“You want to help?” I asked.
She nodded quickly, fierce and unguarded.
“Clear the house,” I said, voice firm but not unkind. “Send everyone home. Kristen deserves to come back to peace. Not this.”
She blinked, understanding and resolve settling into her expression. “Be careful,” she said. She didn’t need to add for her sake or mine. It was implied. We both knew the stakes.
I didn’t reply. I mounted the bike with a single motion, legs folding into the familiar stance that meant I was already pushing forward, leaving nothing behind but consequence and intent.
The night air was sharp against my face, cold enough to remind me that time was passing. Seconds ticked forward like bullets fired into silence. I gunned the engine and felt the vibration settle beneath me, a low rumble that matched the tension in my shoulders.
The street stretched out before me. Quiet. Too calm for what was ahead.
I didn’t know what I was walking into.
I didn’t know what waited behind that storage unit door on 24th and Smith.
I only knew this: she was in there. And whatever lay between me and Kristen would burn.
My jaw was tight. My focus was absolute. The engine’s rumble was the only sound louder than my resolve. I rode faster, straight into the dark, swallowing the distance in long, charged strides of motion.
I hated how quiet the streets were. Every empty sidewalk, every darkened window felt like an insult. The world was still spinning while Kristen was out there, alone or worse, and I wasn’t with her. I gripped the handlebars tighter, my knuckles aching beneath the gloves. The guilt was sharp, digging in deep. I was supposed to protect her. That was the one thing I had sworn to do. Every second that passed was another failure. Another inch of ground I was losing. I leaned forward and twisted the throttle harder. I wasn’t going to be too late. Not this time.
I didn’t slow down. Not once.
Because she was in there.
And I needed to bring her back.