Chapter 98 98

Chapter 98 Part 2-Chapter 15
~Sponsor~

We didn’t go back to the compound. Not yet.

Raines took us through a weave of side streets that felt intentional, the kind of route you chose when you wanted to be remembered only by accident. From the back seat the girl tracked every turn like the city itself might betray her if she stopped watching. I kept my eyes forward, but the aftershock moved under my skin in slow, delayed waves, patient and unkind, the way bruises bloomed hours after the impact.

Raines eased the car into a narrow alley behind a tired-looking building with a flickering neon sign and a dumpster that smelled like old grease and rot. She killed the headlights before she killed the engine. When the silence landed, it landed hard.

“We’re here,” she murmured, scanning mirrors and windows with that same economical focus. Her gaze moved to me, then to the girl. “Out. Quick.”

The girl hesitated, fingers tightening in the fabric of her coat. Raines, climbing out, opened the back door and held her hand out, palm up, steady. “Come on,” she urged, voice low and certain. “This place doesn’t ask questions.”

The girl’s fingers trembled as she took Raines’s hand and climbed out, shoulders hunched tight like she expected someone to grab her the second she touched open air.

I followed, my legs cooperating on stubbornness more than strength. Cold damp slid into my joints. The world felt too bright at the edges, like my senses were trying to widen and couldn’t decide how far they were allowed to go.

Raines led us through a back door and up a narrow stairwell that smelled like burnt coffee. The hallway carpet had been replaced too many times, the walls wore thin paint that never quite covered what had been there before.

She stopped at the last door, drew a key from her pocket, and unlocked it with a quick twist. “Inside,” she instructed.

The room was small but clean. A kitchenette. A battered couch. A table with two mismatched chairs. A window that faced a brick wall three feet away. Safe, in the way something could be safe when it wasn’t meant to be home.

The girl hovered in the entry like she didn’t trust the floor. Raines shut the door behind us and slid the deadbolt home with a decisive click. “Sit,” she told her, nodding to the couch.

The girl didn’t move. Raines, softening her tone, repeated, “Sit,” at the same time stepping aside to clear the path.

The girl crossed the room quickly, like she was outrunning her own fear, and perched on the edge of the couch with her knees pulled tight to her chest.

Moving to the kitchenette, I leaned my hip against the counter. My hands started shaking, fine tremors trying to hide in stillness, and I curled my fingers around the laminate edge until it steadied me.

Raines, having watched me for half a second, narrowed her eyes, then turned away like she’d decided to file it and deal with it later. “Water,” she said, pulling cups from a cabinet. “Both of you.”

“I’m fine,” I protested automatically.

Raines’s gaze cut back in my direction. “Drink,” she ordered, the word leaving no room for argument.

I took the cup and sipped slowly. The girl accepted hers with both hands, staring at it like she wasn’t sure she was allowed to keep it.

Raines crouched in front of her, close enough to hold attention without crowding. “You’re going to tell us what you can,” she said evenly. “No one’s punishing you for gaps. You understand me?”

The girl nodded once.

Raines shifted her weight. “Why were you in the warehouse?”

The girl swallowed. “They told me to wait there,” she whispered, eyes darting to the door. “To watch. To…feel.”

Raines tilted her head. “Feel what?”

The girl’s gaze flicked to my chest, then away. “Her.”

My stomach tightened. “They used you as a switch,” I murmured.

The girl flinched and Raines’s face hardened. “They didn’t tell you what would happen?” she questioned.

The girl shook her head. “They said it would be like a vision,” she whispered. “A glimpse. A way to help them map her.” Her voice cracked. “They didn’t say it would hurt.”

“I’m sure they didn’t,” Raines muttered.

I took another sip of water. The cup clinked softly against my teeth. The throb behind my eyes sharpened.

“What did you see?” I asked.

The girl drew her knees tighter. “A door,” she said. “Not a real one. A seam.” She hesitated. “And below it…him...the...vampire.”

My chest tightened until breathing felt like a choice. “Describe below,” I coaxed.

“It’s like the river,” she whispered. “But heavy. Dark. Like sound gets swallowed. Like words don’t go anywhere.”

Raines leaned back against the wall, absorbing every detail. “Anything else?”

The girl’s lips trembled. “Lights,” she said. “Not bulbs, not candles. Sparks, like trapped fire in the walls.”

My skin prickled. Trapped fire didn’t belong to anything natural.

“And there were people,” she added. “Moving like they didn’t want to be seen.”

“Handlers,” Raines announced.

The girl nodded. “They call her a problem. They call him a resource.”

My grip tightened on the cup until my knuckles ached.

“Any names?” Raines asked.

The girl shook her head. “They say names make you human.”

Raines went still and the girl blurted, “They did that to the other one,” then clamped her mouth shut.

Raines crouched again, gaze locked on her. “You saw someone?”

“Not clearly,” the girl insisted, but it sounded like armor.

“Tell me,” Raines said, steady and relentless.

“A woman,” the girl whispered. “Dark hair. A scar near her eyebrow.” She swallowed. “Standing near the sparks. Waiting.”

Raines’s throat worked. “Mara,” she breathed.

My hands shook harder now, and it felt as if the tremor buzzed into my teeth.

Raines crossed to me in three steps. “Sit,” she ordered, guiding me down when my knees didn’t listen.

“I’m fine,” I insisted, even as white flashed at the edges of my vision.

“That’s a lie,” she snapped, then softened. “Breathe.”

I did. In. Out. My heartbeat staggered, then found a rhythm.

“Did I cause that?” the girl asked, referring to my panic attack.

“No,” I said immediately. “This is on me.”

Raines crouched beside me. “You reached again?” she asked.

“Not…recently,” I whispered. “Just…after.” I pressed my hand to my sternum. “It left a bruise.”

“Cost,” she stated.

I nodded. “Yes.”

The pendant pulsed once, faint and wrong, like a heartbeat through a wall and I stilled.

Raines leaned in. “What?”

“Something’s listening,” I said. “But… Not him.”

The girl whispered, “They're following her tremor.”

Raines moved to the window anyway. “Then we don’t stay.”

“Leaving will make no difference. If they felt it,” I said, “they already know where I am.”

Raines turned, eyes bright and ruthless. “Then we move like we meant them to find you.”

The girl’s voice shook. “You’re going back down there?”

“Not yet,” Raines told her, then looked at me. “But we’re done walking blind.”

I pushed myself upright slowly. “We have a map now,” I said, glancing at the girl. “And a witness.”