Hexbound
Page 23
The vampires around Nicu began to hiss and show their fangs. He glared across at Marlena, his eyes half-hooded. “Never forget, Marlena, who made me vampire.”
“Mistakes,” she growled out, “can be remedied.”
Scout was still mouthing her spell. With each word she spoke, the vampires seemed to become more and more angry. Soon they were screaming at each other in a heavy language I didn’t understand.
I stood at the ready, hands at my sides, wiggling my fingertips as I waited for Scout to give me the signal to douse the lights.
“Three,” she finally said, “two, and one.”
I tugged on the power, and the lights went out above us. The vampires began to yelp. I wasn’t sure if they could see any better in the dark than we could, but they clearly weren’t happy about being plunged into darkness while enemies were in their midst.
On the other hand, they seemed to think their fellow vampires were the only enemies that mattered. As the groups rushed each other to wage their battle, we became irrelevant.
I felt a hand at my elbow. “Go,” Jason said, and we moved in a tight knot, staying close to the wall as we ran for the next corridor. They ignored us, but the sounds of a fight—ripping flesh, bruising strikes—erupted behind us.
We ran full out in the darkness. When we made it to the next corridor, Detroit finagled a light to lead the way. It was a glowing ball that bounced through the hallway, leading us to the end of the corridor and then to the left until we reached the gunmetal gray fire door. The stairwell was lit from within, and it cast an orange glow into the hallway. The bouncing light disappeared into the puddle of light.
Paul pushed at the long bar across the door, but it wouldn’t budge. “Locked,” he said, glancing back at us.
“There’s an access pad,” Jill said, gesturing toward the small white box that sat beside the door. “You need a card to open the door.”
Scout pointed at Detroit, before casting a nervous glance back at the hallway. “Can you do something, or do we need to have Paulie rip the thing off its hinges?”
“I’m on it,” Detroit said. She moved to the wall and elbowed the panel. Just like in the movies, the plastic cover popped off. She whipped out a set of tiny tools from her leather jacket, and then she was working. A tiny screwdriver in each hand, she began to pick and pluck at the sensor’s insides.
“You okay?”
I looked over and found Jason behind me, worry in his eyes. “I’m good.”
He touched a fingertip to my thumb. “Good. Otherwise, I’d have to run back and take a bite out of crime, if you know what I mean.”
“Show-off.”
He winked.
“Got it,” Detroit announced. She pressed the plastic cover back into place, then waved her giant black watch over the pad.
For a moment there was silence, and then the door clicked as the mechanism unlocked.
Detroit pushed through the door.
“Nice job,” I said, passing by as she held the door open.
“It’s not firespell,” she said, “but it works for me.”
No argument there.
7
Detroit and Paul stayed by the door until we were done, then pulled it closed until it clicked shut again behind us. We filed down the stairs. A steel bar stretched across the final landing, probably to keep folks out of the basement and the tunnels. We hopped over it to reach the tall, metal fire door that punctuated the dank bottom of the stairwell and waited while Detroit jimmied the lock on a chain on the door.
I’ll admit it; I was impressed. Detroit had skills that made caper movies look low budget. But I wasn’t the only one pleased with our trek so far.
“Nice job back there,” Scout said, nudging me with her elbow. “I’m calling that Adepts, one. Vampires, zero.”
“Agreed,” I said, holding up a hand. “I’m gonna need some skin on that one.” She reached out and high-fived me.
It took only a couple of seconds before Detroit tripped the tumblers and was pulling the chain away. “All right,” she said. “Last part of the trip.”
“And this was supposed to be a shortcut,” I muttered.
“At least we got to spend some quality time together.”
I gave Jason a dry look. “Be honest. You were hoping I’d use firespell. You wanted to see it.”
“Well, if you want me to be honest, then yeah. I wanted to watch you work your mojo.”
“Jeeeez, you two,” Scout said. “Make out somewhere else.”
“Spoilsport,” I told her.
The fire door led back into the railway tunnels. Maybe the Pedway architect figured they’d put be put back into use someday.
“We’ll stay here and watch your back,” Paul said, pointing between himself, Jamie, and Jill. “We can ice out the vamps if they make it in, make sure you have a clear path back to the Enclave.”
“Especially since we’re taking the long way home,” Jason advised.
Detroit grumbled, but seemed to get his point.
From there, it was only a couple hundred yards before we reached a ramshackle wooden door.
“This is it,” Detroit whispered, opening the door and giving us a peek of a walkway between our wooden door and a set of metal double doors at the other end of a long corridor. The walkway’s ceiling was covered by grates, and we could hear the sounds of music and engines above us as cars passed by.
“This is what?” Jason asked, confusion in his expression as he surveyed the hallway. “What are we supposed to be seeing?”
“Mistakes,” she growled out, “can be remedied.”
Scout was still mouthing her spell. With each word she spoke, the vampires seemed to become more and more angry. Soon they were screaming at each other in a heavy language I didn’t understand.
I stood at the ready, hands at my sides, wiggling my fingertips as I waited for Scout to give me the signal to douse the lights.
“Three,” she finally said, “two, and one.”
I tugged on the power, and the lights went out above us. The vampires began to yelp. I wasn’t sure if they could see any better in the dark than we could, but they clearly weren’t happy about being plunged into darkness while enemies were in their midst.
On the other hand, they seemed to think their fellow vampires were the only enemies that mattered. As the groups rushed each other to wage their battle, we became irrelevant.
I felt a hand at my elbow. “Go,” Jason said, and we moved in a tight knot, staying close to the wall as we ran for the next corridor. They ignored us, but the sounds of a fight—ripping flesh, bruising strikes—erupted behind us.
We ran full out in the darkness. When we made it to the next corridor, Detroit finagled a light to lead the way. It was a glowing ball that bounced through the hallway, leading us to the end of the corridor and then to the left until we reached the gunmetal gray fire door. The stairwell was lit from within, and it cast an orange glow into the hallway. The bouncing light disappeared into the puddle of light.
Paul pushed at the long bar across the door, but it wouldn’t budge. “Locked,” he said, glancing back at us.
“There’s an access pad,” Jill said, gesturing toward the small white box that sat beside the door. “You need a card to open the door.”
Scout pointed at Detroit, before casting a nervous glance back at the hallway. “Can you do something, or do we need to have Paulie rip the thing off its hinges?”
“I’m on it,” Detroit said. She moved to the wall and elbowed the panel. Just like in the movies, the plastic cover popped off. She whipped out a set of tiny tools from her leather jacket, and then she was working. A tiny screwdriver in each hand, she began to pick and pluck at the sensor’s insides.
“You okay?”
I looked over and found Jason behind me, worry in his eyes. “I’m good.”
He touched a fingertip to my thumb. “Good. Otherwise, I’d have to run back and take a bite out of crime, if you know what I mean.”
“Show-off.”
He winked.
“Got it,” Detroit announced. She pressed the plastic cover back into place, then waved her giant black watch over the pad.
For a moment there was silence, and then the door clicked as the mechanism unlocked.
Detroit pushed through the door.
“Nice job,” I said, passing by as she held the door open.
“It’s not firespell,” she said, “but it works for me.”
No argument there.
7
Detroit and Paul stayed by the door until we were done, then pulled it closed until it clicked shut again behind us. We filed down the stairs. A steel bar stretched across the final landing, probably to keep folks out of the basement and the tunnels. We hopped over it to reach the tall, metal fire door that punctuated the dank bottom of the stairwell and waited while Detroit jimmied the lock on a chain on the door.
I’ll admit it; I was impressed. Detroit had skills that made caper movies look low budget. But I wasn’t the only one pleased with our trek so far.
“Nice job back there,” Scout said, nudging me with her elbow. “I’m calling that Adepts, one. Vampires, zero.”
“Agreed,” I said, holding up a hand. “I’m gonna need some skin on that one.” She reached out and high-fived me.
It took only a couple of seconds before Detroit tripped the tumblers and was pulling the chain away. “All right,” she said. “Last part of the trip.”
“And this was supposed to be a shortcut,” I muttered.
“At least we got to spend some quality time together.”
I gave Jason a dry look. “Be honest. You were hoping I’d use firespell. You wanted to see it.”
“Well, if you want me to be honest, then yeah. I wanted to watch you work your mojo.”
“Jeeeez, you two,” Scout said. “Make out somewhere else.”
“Spoilsport,” I told her.
The fire door led back into the railway tunnels. Maybe the Pedway architect figured they’d put be put back into use someday.
“We’ll stay here and watch your back,” Paul said, pointing between himself, Jamie, and Jill. “We can ice out the vamps if they make it in, make sure you have a clear path back to the Enclave.”
“Especially since we’re taking the long way home,” Jason advised.
Detroit grumbled, but seemed to get his point.
From there, it was only a couple hundred yards before we reached a ramshackle wooden door.
“This is it,” Detroit whispered, opening the door and giving us a peek of a walkway between our wooden door and a set of metal double doors at the other end of a long corridor. The walkway’s ceiling was covered by grates, and we could hear the sounds of music and engines above us as cars passed by.
“This is what?” Jason asked, confusion in his expression as he surveyed the hallway. “What are we supposed to be seeing?”
