The force of the explosion sent Derek and Lance to the ground. Splinters shot through the room, and heat ran along Lance’s arms.

Armed men in dark, armored outfits stormed the room and pinned Derek down. Kaela stood with her hands up as two men pointed their guns at her. Lance was thrown down onto the table and pinned. His face stung where it hit the wood, and his ribs screamed. His arms burned where their hands touched.

More men charged at Eric, guns pointed. Eric was still sitting patiently in his chair, his smile gone but his demeanor calm and unbothered. He didn’t even raise his hands. When the flood of men stopped, another man walked in, wearing a matching outfit. He sipped from a flask and slipped it into his shirt as he marched toward Eric. Confidence carried his steps.

“You,” said the armored man.

Eric smiled pleasantly at him.

“I’m afraid you can only see me by appointment.” Eric looked around. “This isn’t usually how you book one.”

Lance rolled his eyes and winced with every breath of air. Of course Eric would be this calm.

“Bastard!” The man yelled and smacked Eric across the face with the back of his hand.

Eric’s face barely even moved, his expression unreadable. “If it’s information you want, I’ll have to raise the price to pay for a new door.”

“You killed my brother, you son of a bitch!”

“Ah, I see.” Eric smiled up at him devilishly. “I thought you looked familiar. You must be dear Malcolm’s brother. Daniel, right? I’ve seen you in the papers… Funnily enough, your brother also made the papers, didn’t he?”

Daniel seemed taken aback, but then he raised his hand, and one of his men smacked Eric with the butt of his gun. This time, Eric almost fell out of the chair.

Lance blinked, and Daniel was suddenly wrapped in Eric’s arm with a cane blade against his throat.

“If I hear so much as one gunshot, his head comes off!” Eric yelled.

Lance flinched at the force of his voice. He never thought he’d be grateful to see this side of Eric again.

“Now,” Eric continued, his eyes so wild he looked almost feral. “What you all are going to do is let these three go. They’re just clients; they have nothing to do with me. After that, I’ll let your boss go, and you can do whatever you want with me.”

Lance’s heart dropped to his stomach.

“Mr. Samuel, was it?” Eric asked, glancing at Derek. “You should probably go home.”

“Do it,” Daniel said with a growl. “It’s him I want.”

Kaela bared her teeth at the two men aiming their weapons at her. They backed away, guns still trained on her. Derek was forced to his feet, and Lance was pulled away from the table. His ribs were sore, but at least breathing was easier. Kaela carefully backed toward the entrance, followed by Derek and Lance.

Lance held his breath. At any moment, a bullet could find his heart. His eyes darted to each gun in the room. Just one pull of a trigger, and that would be the end. As soon as they were out the door, they ran. Lance paused as they rounded the corner, stealing one fleeting look at the building snugly fit into the alley. One of the soldiers stood at the door, staring him down. Rain was falling in a sprinkle.

“Lance!” Kaela shouted, knocking him out of his trance.

Still out of breath, he ran, ignoring the looks he and the others were getting.

* * *

Eric smiled as the trio left. Every gun turned toward him, a dozen men staring at him down their barrels. He slipped the cylinder out of his coat, pushed Daniel toward his men, and held it up for them to see.

“You little—” Daniel started to shout, turning toward Eric until he saw what was in his hand. “What is…?”

“A detonator,” Eric said, laughing at Daniel’s shock. “You know what a detonator is, right, Daniel? It’s a device that makes things blow up? Like you did with my door. Oh, and by the way, you can shoot me now. Because as soon as I let go of this button, you’ll get a free preview of Hell.”

Daniel’s men shared looks, their guns lowering.

Eric took the opportunity and sneaked a few steps to the right.

If he could just make it a few more…

But Daniel narrowed his eyes. “You’re bluffing,” he said. “Fire!”

* * *

Lance didn’t know how long they’d been running before the explosion went off. His bones shook from the distant force as he covered his ears. Smoke billowed from where the hideout was.

People screamed and ran from the sound, scurrying like rats.

“Well,” Kaela said, her voice shaking. She looked down at her outfit and brushed it off. “We’d better get going.”

Lance stared at the smoke for an extra few seconds before following the duo. Derek’s eyes filled with rage. He was dead silent as they continued down the sidewalk.

The rain became a downpour. Kaela cursed and held her thin coat above her head.

“What just happened back there?” Lance asked over a rumble of thunder.

“Eric made a mistake,” Kaela responded grimly. “Now he’s paying for it.”

“But did he actually just—”

“Save the questions for when we get to the hideout, Lance,” Derek interjected. His voice was a low growl.

After a few minutes of jogging through the slicing cold rain, Kaela suddenly made a turn into an alley. She looked at Derek, who pushed a large trash bin out of the way. Kaela kicked at the brick wall behind the bin with her heel until a patch of it loosened. She kicked again, harder, and the patch fell away, revealing a space underneath the building. Lance shouldn’t have been surprised, but his jaw dropped anyway.

Kaela scoffed at her soaked dress and slid into the room, waving for Lance and Derek to follow. Once Derek slid in, Lance moved to do the same, but someone grabbed him from behind. He gasped and choked at the smell of cooked meat. He struggled against whoever had him, hearing a crackling sound like baked bread behind him. He gagged.

He got a glimpse of a black uniform and the scorched face of one of the soldiers that had broken into Eric’s place. His eyes were red and bloodshot, his face burned. It was the same one who’d been watching them from the door.

“Got ya!” he said, his voice gravelly, his eyes unsteady, his grip strong.

Derek was already climbing back out of the hideout, but something snapped; something that whispered in Lance’s head; something that writhed within the pit of his stomach. Time slowed, and Lance’s fear disappeared. The panic settled into a steady flow of adrenaline.

There it was again.

The whisper.

Survive.

Strength surged through Lance’s body. The cold of the rain no longer stung his skin. His heart beat slower and stronger in his chest, so strong it pounded in his ears. His vision cleared, as if a blurry lens had been removed from the world.

Lance’s elbow flew back hard into the man’s stomach. The tightened grip loosened around his neck, and the man backed away, coughing and gurgling.

Lance could’ve made a run for the underground room, but his body whirled around and grabbed the burned man’s arm. He flipped the man onto the ground, splashing water everywhere. The man’s skin flaked where Lance’s hands gripped him. He screamed and shouted, and Lance raised his foot. The man gasped his last breath as Lance slammed his foot onto his skull. Bone crunched under his shoe.

Time sped back up, and Lance gasped as though he’d been holding his breath the entire time. His strength faded, and his heart sped up. The rain froze his skin, and his stomach turned at the sight of the man before him. He stepped back, tripping and falling on the slippery concrete. Oh, God, he thought. What did I just do? His wet hair covered his eyes, and he brushed it away, revealing the charred body of the man that had just attacked him.

Derek’s mouth was agape, and his eyes almost looked fearful. “How did you do that?”

Lance didn’t respond—couldn’t respond.

Derek dragged the man’s body into the trash bin and shut the lid. He ushered Lance into the hideout and slid in behind him.

“I don’t know,” Lance said as he ran a hand through his wet hair, distracted by not only the smell of the man’s burnt body seeping into the room, but the realization of what he’d just done. To be able to throw a man like that… Since when was he so strong? “Did I kill him?”

“No,” Derek said. “His burns did. What you did was give him mercy.” He grabbed the cluster of bricks and shoved them back into place, as if the wall hadn’t been tampered with in the slightest. “But seriously… what the hell, Lance? I didn’t think you could hurt a fly, much less do that.” He wiped his hands on his wet pants. “I guess now I know how you managed to survive the slums all those years.”

“That man,” Lance said, swallowing the bile rising in his throat, “was burned to a crisp. He wasn’t strong enough to do anything anyway.”

A lie. Lance’s grip had been much stronger than it should have been. Even his arms were fragile and small. No way should he have been able to throw a man like that. Lance looked around the concrete room, the only light coming from the flickering flame of a lamp Kaela sat near, a box of matches in her hand. The room wasn’t much bigger than Lance’s back at the store, but with that awful cooked smell, it felt smaller.

“Why didn’t you tell us you could fight?” Derek pushed.

Lance balled his fists. “I didn’t know! I haven’t been in a fight in my life! Except… you back at my store and… that kid at the orphana—Look, I’ve barely been in two fights!” His heart wouldn’t slow down. He sat against the wall, and Derek sat across from him.

“Guess I was wrong,” Kaela interjected, looking at the ground, her hands held up to the flame. “Seems like Eric does give a shit about you. Go figure.” She looked down at her clothes, her jacket discarded on the ground. “I’m freezing.” She scowled. “And my clothes are ruined.”

Derek sighed and removed a flask from his back pocket, taking a sip before offering it to Lance. Lance took it and stared at it. It called to him, whispering sweet promises that he knew it wouldn’t keep. His clothes were soaked, he was freezing, and his hands trembled. He breathed in that smell… Maybe just one sip wouldn’t hurt.

He hesitated at first then put the flask to his lips. Before he could get so much as a taste, Kaela snatched the flask from him and drained it in seconds. She wiped her mouth and tossed the flask back at Derek. Lance let out a sigh, almost grateful.

“He’ll be here soon,” Derek said. “I know it.”

“Who?” Lance asked.

Derek tried to knock even a few drops from the flask into his mouth. “Who do you think?”

Kaela leaned her head against the wall, her makeup running down her face.

“I don’t think he made it out of there, Derek,” Lance said, his voice quiet.

As if she could read Lance’s mind, Kaela opened her eyes and said, “I’m sorry, but can we talk about the fact that our hideout has been rigged to blow this whole time?!”

“Did you know about the explosives?” Lance asked Derek.

Derek shook his head.

Lance expected the conversation to continue, but Kaela went silent, and Derek sat against the wall, looking up at the ceiling.

The minutes went by like hours. Kaela fell in and out of naps, Derek resorted to pacing, and Lance just sat there, letting his own thoughts consume him. Thankfully, the smell of the dead man dissipated, replaced by the pungent zing of rain and alcohol. He looked down at his hands and balled them into fists, testing their strength. How he’d done that, he had no idea. Memories resurfaced, and the face of that boy appeared as he blinked—the taste of copper in his mouth, the screams. He gulped as a bead of sweat formed on his brow.

A monster and now a murderer.

“Derek,” Lance said after a while, “he’s not coming back.”

“Oh, shut up before I throw you out in the rain,” Kaela said, her words slurring. She pointed at her shadow covering the adjacent wall. “That means you too, buddy.”

“Well, I wouldn’t worry about that,” someone said in a strained, muffled voice. The patch of fake brick wall flew across the room, nearly striking Lance in the head, and Eric slipped in, as slick as a snake. His coat and pants were charred and torn but soaked and dripping as well. His face was covered in ash, and his hand gripped his shoulder as well as his cane.

Lance gaped. “Holy shit, you are alive.”

“What did I say?” Derek said, a proud smile on his face. “Glad to have you back, boss.”

“Devil probably kicked him out of hell,” Kaela muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Can’t blame him, either.”

Eric grunted. “I’m happy to hear such an accommodating formality, but I was never gone to begin with.”

“How did you even survive?” Lance asked. The smell of smoke and rain swept through the room.

“Skill, speed, and a hell of a lot of luck.” Eric leaned against the wall, catching his breath. “I jumped out of a window and got blown out into the street. I caught fire, but the rain took care of that. I crawled into a nice little alley to pass out in, woke up, and here I am!” He spread one of his arms out, the other sagging at his side.

“What’s wrong with your arm?” Derek asked.

“Dislocated, I think,” Eric said. “Did I forget to mention the blast threw me into some poor slob’s car?” He laughed. “You should’ve seen his face.” He tried to move his shoulder and grimaced. “Derek, will you do the honors?”

Derek reached out and felt along Eric’s arm for a moment before shoving it back into place with a pop.

Eric grunted then tested his shoulder out with a smile. “Ooh, that felt good.”

Kaela stood, almost losing her balance. “You could have told us you had the place armed with explosives, you jackass.” She made to slap him and missed. She rubbed at her head. “I swear I didn’t have a headache until you came back.”

“Calm down. They weren’t going to blow up until I detonated them.”

“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?”

“Yes, actually. Now that you all have the comfort of knowing I’m not dead, I need to get going.”

“Whoa, whoa, hold on.” Lance grabbed Eric’s arm before he could slip back out of the hole, then released it when his fingers burned. “What do you mean you need to get going? You just got here. Besides, we need to regroup and figure out what we’re doing next. We don’t know that there aren’t more men coming after us.”

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“I doubt that,” Eric mused, his smile wild and impressed. “But good on you, Lancelot, finally taking the initiative.”

“No, that’s not what I—”

“What happened to Daniel?” Kaela asked, rubbing her temples.

“While his smell currently permeates the air, I must inform you Mr. Landreau was horribly burned to death with his soldiers in an unfortunate gas explosion,” Eric said almost gleefully.

“I’m pretty sure that’s the guy in the trash you’re smelling.”

“Lovely,” Eric remarked with no shortage of sarcasm. “I’m off. And Lance? Keep these two in line, will you?”

“You never said where you were going.” Kaela stood from her spot. “Or are you keeping that a secret too?”

“It’s no secret, Kaela.” Eric smiled. “I’m going to Landreau Corp’s corporate building in our lovely sister city. With the death of the two Landreau brothers, the company’s bound to hold a meeting to determine what their next move is. I intend to use this to my advantage.”

Kaela shook her head. “If Daniel knew you were the killer, don’t you think everyone else would as well?”

“Not likely. They would have kept it a secret to avoid panic. The only ones that could have known are the Landreau brothers themselves and Daniel’s merry little gang of men… and I don’t think they’ll be speaking to anybody anytime soon.” Eric removed a folded slip of paper, charred at the edges. “Here you go, Lancelot.”

Lance took the paper and opened it. A key was tucked inside. “An address?”

Eric nodded. “To a special hideout in case of situations like this. You’ll want to stay there for the rest of the day. Maybe even a few days, just to be safe.”

“Why are you giving me this?”

“You’re in charge while I’m gone. Think of yourself as my… understudy. Yeah, I like that.”

Kaela’s jaw dropped. “Are you kidding me?!” She stomped over to Eric, pointing her finger in his face. “Are you trying to get us killed? He knows almost nothing about how we work. Did you forget that?”

Eric moved her finger aside. “I never forget. And I beg to differ. He has a decent idea as to how our operations work now, having spent a day with each of us. And besides, with him as the leader, you and Derek can focus more on your businesses. Lance only has one business, so he can afford the sacrifice.”

Derek was dead silent.

“Adios.” Eric started to slide away then paused. His voice turned serious. “And you, Kaela. Think of this as a big game of follow the leader. That’s exactly what I expect you to do while I’m gone. I better not hear about you giving Lance any trouble. This is my decision, and you’d better respect it.”

“Respect this,” Kaela said, showing him her middle finger.

Eric narrowed his eyes then looked at Derek. “I have no doubts you’ll follow my orders, Derek, but do me a favor and make sure to remind our fiery Kaela of what I said when the alcohol wears off.”

“We’re all going to die,” Kaela said, placing her hand on her forehead.

Eric smiled and walked away.

Lance pocketed the key. Kaela’s frown was so deep it looked painful. Lance scanned the piece of paper, marking a mental path.

“Well,” Lance sighed, “I guess it’s time we got out of here.”

“What do we do about him?” Derek waved his hand toward the entrance, where the burnt smell was permeating the room once more.

Lance racked his brain, ignoring the look Kaela shot him. “Why not just leave him in there?”

She gave a small giggle, and Lance glared at her as she covered her mouth.

“Sorry,” Kaela said. “I was just remembering something funny.”

“And what would that be?” Lance mumbled.

“Eric making you leader.” She burst out in a hearty laugh, nearly falling over. Her cheeks were red.

“What was in that flask, Derek? All she’s had besides that was a cup of coffee.”

Kaela laughed even harder, shaking her head. “It wasn’t coffee.” She wiped a tear from her eye. “Well, maybe like ten percent coffee.”

Lance balled his fists as she finally calmed her laughing fit. “Fine, since you think me being in charge is such a terrible idea, then what do you propose? Eric told you to help me, after all. It’s part of your job, underboss.” Lance blinked. The words had just… slipped out so easily.

Derek raised an eyebrow at his change in tone.

Kaela’s smile dropped, and she glared at him. “Fine.” She put her hand to her chin in thought. “How about you… hide him up your ass?”

Lance gritted his teeth. “This is going to be the whole time Eric’s gone, isn’t it?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“I expected more from you.”

“I believe that’s the first time a man has ever told me that.”

Derek rubbed his temples. “Look, the best thing we can do with what little time we have is drag the body out of the trash can and leave it there.”

Lance crossed his arms. “Is that… going to work?”

Derek shrugged. “If his body is found in the trash can, they’ll know somebody hid him. If he’s lying on the ground, it just looks like he was caught in the explosion, tried to find help, and collapsed here.”

“Oh,” Lance said. “Okay.”

“We need to be quick about this. Lance, can you make sure nobody’s walking around?”

Lance stuck his head out from the entrance. The streets were empty. The rain had stopped, and dark clouds blocked out the sun, casting the city in gray. “Nobody right now, and it’s cloudy.”

“Then let’s be quick.”

Derek and Lance climbed out of the hideout. Lance kept watch as Derek heaved the man’s body out of the trash and positioned him on the ground. Kaela climbed out last, tearing her dress on a loose piece of brick. She swore as Derek slid the cluster of fake bricks back into the hole and moved the trash can in front of them.

Lance gulped with every glance he stole at the body. He looked as if he’d simply collapsed from his wounds, just as Derek said. A flash of blood and tears and the matron’s stare flooded his mind. He turned away from the corpse, rubbing his hands together for warmth, his wet clothes sticking to his body.

“Let’s go.” Lance handed the paper to Derek. “I’m not familiar enough with this part of the city. Do you know where this is?”

Derek stared at the paper for a moment then nodded. “I can figure it out.” He tore the paper to pieces and shoved them into his pocket.

They walked in silence, crossing streets and slipping through alleyways. Nobody seemed to give them any looks other than pity for their soaked clothes. The new hideout should’ve been no more than a few blocks away.

“Derek,” Lance said. “I… What does it feel like? You know, to be you?” He gulped as Derek gave him a confused look.

“What do you mean, boss?” he asked, his voice not faltering in the slightest.

“Dear God, please don’t start doing that.” Lance rolled his eyes. “I can’t think of anything I would like to be called less than ‘boss’.”

Derek chuckled. “Habit, I guess.”

“Did Eric make you call him that?”

Derek shook his head. “I guess I just like to be professional. Eric doesn’t care much about what we call him as long as we get our jobs done.”

“Hmm. You’re really loyal to him.”

“I already told you—the man gave me a new life. I owe that life to him.”

A flicker of annoyance sparked in Lance’s chest. If Eric hadn’t murdered Malcolm Landreau, none of this would have happened in the first place. That didn’t seem worthy of loyalty, to him.

“So, your question?”

“Yeah… I was wondering how it feels when you… kill?”

Darkness crossed Derek’s face. “Why do you ask?”

“It’s just… You said you had a bad past. I assumed that maybe you’d killed before. You seem like the kind of guy that has.”

Derek let out a defeated sigh. “The first time… it depends. My first time was awful. It just hovered over me, like I had a second shadow. But over time, it faded… They all did. Every kill after the first gets easier until it’s just… part of life.” Derek paused as if in a trance, his eyes holding a faraway look. “I still see the faces sometimes, but… for the most part, you get over it a lot quicker than you think.”

Lance grimaced.

They took a shortcut through another alley and back onto the sidewalk. They had to be getting close.

Derek shook his head. “You didn’t kill that man, Lance. He was as good as dead already. Though I never expected you to be able to flip him like that. Maybe Eric was right, after all. Maybe there is something special about you.”

Kaela huffed behind them, but he ignored it.

Derek stopped. “We’re here.”

Before them stood an old, abandoned auto repair shop. The two garage doors were rusted and chained shut, and the glass door on the left side of the storefront was cracked.

Lance looked around at the other buildings, most of them in good shape. “I never thought I would see a decrepit building in this part of the city.”

Derek shrugged. “We may not be the slums, but every city’s got abandoned buildings.”

“Eric sure knows how to pick ’em,” Kaela said. “About as well as he does his leaders.”

“You really should stop,” Lance remarked before he could stop himself. “It wasn’t funny the first time.” He blinked again at his own words. A snarky comment was one thing, but since when was he so confrontational? Probably just the adrenaline.

“Maybe not to you, but it’s been funnier for me every time.”

Lance ignored her and used the key on the door. The lock clicked open, and he stepped over the threshold. The stench of motor oil made his nose crinkle. The place was empty, save for a handful of toolboxes against the walls. A metal door stood at the back of the room, a broken ‘Exit’ sign atop it. A wooden door stood at the far-right end of the garage, its blurry glass panel revealing nothing but darkness on the other side.

I really wish I was back at my store, Lance thought as he stirred up dust, walking across the concrete floor. He looked over his shoulder at Derek and Kaela. She locked the door behind them and wrapped her arms around herself.

“I really need to change,” Kaela mumbled. “You don’t think Eric would have left a spare set of clothes in this place, do you?”

“Don’t know,” Derek responded.

“There’s no way in hell this is the hideout.”

Derek put his hands on his hips and looked around. “I’m inclined to agree with Kaela. This place is too exposed to be a hideout.” He pointed at the door they’d walked through. “That door’s made of glass, and people can still look through it even if it’s cracked. Not to mention there aren’t any beds, food, anything.” He popped his knuckles. “Kaela, can you check that room over there?” He pointed at the wooden door.

“Whatever,” Kaela mumbled as she trudged to the door.

“Lance, was there anything else on the paper besides the address?”

“No, but the key worked, so this has to be the place,” Lance said, looking around. Derek had a point, though. It did seem too exposed, especially after the last hideout was underneath the building. “Wait… maybe there’s a secret entrance like the one we were just at.”

“And our glorious leader has figured out the puzzle.” Kaela opened the wooden door and looked in. “It’s some kind of office.” She looked beside the door and flipped a light switch. Lights flickered on in the office. “Huh… this place still has power.”

“Does anything look out of place?” Lance asked.

“Yeah, this place has power,” Kaela snapped, glaring at him. She stepped into the office and disappeared behind another door.

Derek furrowed his brows. “Well… that ice cream cooler over there seems pretty out of place.”

Lance looked over at the waist-high ice cream cooler attached to a nearby wall. Faded pictures of frozen treats adorned its side.

Derek padded to the cooler and looked inside. He slid the glass door open and felt along its walls and the floor.

Lance did the same.

Nothing—just the smooth bottom of a cooler, though it could have benefitted from a dusting.

Lance sighed, then stood and sent a frustrated kick into the side of the cooler. It made a hollow sound.

Kaela groaned as she stepped out of the office, wiping her arms and shoulders with one hand and holding a roll of toilet paper in the other.

“Kaela… is that…?” Lance began.

“Don’t. Say it,” she growled. “I just want to be dry.”

“Wait…” Derek stared at the wall absentmindedly for a moment before shoving his arms back into the cooler. He knocked on the floor of the cooler, first on the left side. He moved his fist to the right as he knocked. The sound changed from a stable clack to another hollow sound.

Derek scratched his chin. “Huh… I wonder.” He braced his palms against the floor and pulled. Click. The bottom slid back, revealing a hole in the ground and a ladder that led down into the darkness.

Derek’s excited, breathy laugh echoed through the room. Lance reached inside the hole, feeling along the concrete walls.

“Hey, Kaela,” Derek said from inside the cooler. “Get over here.”

Kaela continued drying herself. “Derek, I’m sorry to have to break it to you, but climbing into the cooler isn’t gonna make me any warm—” She froze as she approached the ladder. “Well…” Kaela started as Lance looked down, just as surprised as she was. “Not bad.”

“Do we have a light?” Lance asked.

“What’s this?” Derek felt around the underside of the panel. With another click, a long string of lights wrapped around the sides of the ladder lit up, spiraling down to the concrete floor. It reached about a dozen feet down.

“Wow. That’s flashy, even for Eric.”

“He blew up his own building. Nothing can beat that,” Kaela said. “I’m going first. There’d better be towels down here.” She climbed into the cooler and descended the ladder. “Maybe even some tequila. These freezing clothes are killing my buzz.”

Lance went next, then Derek, who slid the panel back into place with a click.

As they reached the bottom of the ladder, a new, more piercing cold bit into Lance’s skin. His teeth chattered as he looked around. A narrow concrete tunnel lined with string lights led to a steel door.

Lance went first, the lights guiding him. His breathing became ragged. The already narrow walls closed in on him.

“I gotta ask—” Lance said, his voice trembling.

“Sounds about right,” Kaela interrupted.

“How does Eric come up with this stuff? Does he hire psychopathic construction workers or do it himself?”

“We don’t know,” Derek said. “Eric doesn’t tell us everything. He just kind of…”

“Plays games with us,” Kaela finished for him. Her words weren’t as slurred. “Can’t stand it, either. But I gotta admit, the man is an evil genius… in a way.” She paused. “Sometimes I feel like we’re just pawns in his elaborate chess game. We just do what we’re told, go where we’re ordered to, and see what happens.”

Lance reached the door, but when he tried the freezing-cold knob, it wouldn’t budge. The key burned a hole in his pocket. He took it out and slid it into the lock. With one twist, the lock clicked. He pushed the door open and stepped in.

There was nothing but darkness inside, save for the last bit of string lights wrapped around a light switch. Derek walked in and flipped it, and a new row of lights on the concrete ceiling blinded Lance.

The room was all concrete—not just the ceiling, but the walls and the floor. Lance shivered. A new, more piercing cold dug into his skin through his soaked clothes. Kaela swore.

A computer with a desk and a chair sat on the right side of the room, a large metal cabinet to the left, and a row of beds across from the entrance.

“Oh my God, blankets,” Kaela said suddenly, rushing to a pile of folded blankets on one of the beds and grabbing one. She held the blanket in her hands, caressing the material. Then she set the blanket back down and began to peel her dress off.

“Whoa whoa whoa, what the hell are you doing?” Lance asked, turning his head and blocking his view with his arm.

Derek turned around casually, his hands behind his back and his eyes pointed at his shoes. He cleared his throat nervously.

“What does it look like? I’m getting these soaking clothes off.”

“Well, do you have to do it in here?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, princess, have you never seen a tit before?”

“It’s freezing in here!”

“Yeah, and I’d rather be cold and dry than cold and wet. You and Derek should get yours off too. Here.”

A blanket hit the back of Lance’s head, and he scrambled to grab it before it landed on the floor. Kaela was already wrapped tightly in one of her own, her soaked clothes piled next to her.

“She’s right,” Derek said, easily catching the blanket she tossed at him. “It’ll be harder to get warm with these clothes on.” He met Lance’s eyes then Kaela’s. “I… think I’ll just go change upstairs.”

Kaela sauntered to the computer and took a seat in the office chair.

Lance shivered, the cold gnawing and digging into his skin. Maybe getting these clothes off wouldn’t be such a bad idea, but being naked didn’t seem much better.

“Yes,” Kaela whispered excitedly to herself.

Lance squinted. “Is that…?”

“Internet.” Kaela crossed her arms, looking rather proud of herself. She picked up one of the many wires that dug their way into the wall. “Not sure where the router is, but it’s somewhere upstairs, I guess.” She glanced at him. “You seriously need to get those clothes off. You’re shivering. Unless you want hypothermia, in which case, be my guest.”

Lance balled his hands into fists. She was right. He’d get sick if he didn’t at least get out of these clothes. He groaned. “Fine, just… don’t look, okay?”

Kaela scoffed. “I’ll try to restrain myself.”

Lance looked up the ladder for any sign of Derek, then at Kaela as she typed at the computer. He tugged at his wet clothes, the fabric clinging to his skin and refusing to come off easily. The cold sliced into his bare skin. When the last of his clothes were off, he wrapped the blanket around his waist then grabbed another and draped it over his shoulders. He curled into a ball on one of the beds, still shivering.

“How is this supposed to make me feel better?” Lance asked.

“Give it a minute,” Kaela responded calmly. She stopped what she was doing on the computer and spun back and forth slowly in the chair. “What’s in that cabinet, anyway?”

Lance padded to the cabinet, the cold of the cement seeping harshly into his feet. He opened the doors and raised an eyebrow.

Inside were a few bottles of water, plastic utensils, cans of vegetables, and light-brown packets.

Lance grabbed one of the light-brown packets and read the front. “MRE.” He set the packet back in the cabinet and shut it.

Derek walked in, a blanket wrapped around his waist. “Hey, there’s a hand dryer in the bathroom. I’m going to see if I can dry our clothes.”

“I didn’t see a hand dryer in there,” Kaela said.

“Probably too drunk,” Lance said before he could stop himself. His eyes widened, and Kaela glared at him. He couldn’t stop himself from saying the words. Whatever filter he’d had on his tongue before was no longer there.

“You’re such an ass.”

Lance almost rolled his eyes. “Like you aren’t?”

“And I don’t even mean the ass kind of ass. You’re just a complete donkey is what you are.”

Derek picked up Kaela’s pile of clothes then Lance’s, sighing in frustration. “You two can fight later. For now, come upstairs with me until we’re all dry.”

Lance and Kaela shared glances then followed Derek up the ladder. Lance could hardly touch the rungs of the ladder, his fingers already aching from the cold. When he climbed out of the cooler, thunder rumbled distantly outside.

People walked past the door. If it wasn’t for the cracked glass, they’d be easily visible. If nobody peeked in, they’d be fine.

Lance and Kaela followed Derek to the office, and Lance curled up in the office chair. Derek closed himself in the bathroom. The hand dryer whirred from behind the door.

“And then there were two,” Kaela said, perching herself on the desk and rubbing her hands together for warmth. “You want to keep fighting? Because frankly, I think I’m already getting a hangover, and this headache does not help my mood.” Her stare lingered on him. “Wow, your face is pale.”

Lance sighed. “You know, you started this crap to begin with.”

Kaela stared at him blankly, but then her eyes fell to her shoes. “Well, I guess I should get this over with.” A moment of silence passed between them. “I’m sorry.” She said it with an eyeroll, and her head lurched forward like she was about to gag. “Call me petty, but the truth of the matter is I’ve been in this family much longer than you have, and for you to just come in here and sweep Eric off his feet—” She crossed her arms. “I wouldn’t even have been mad if he’d chosen Derek. I just really thought you were going to be—”

“Bait. Yeah.” Lance looked at her. “I didn’t ask to be put in this position.”

She sighed. “I’ve decided I don’t like the constant arguing… Granted, I do like making crude remarks, and I refuse to stop doing that. This arguing, though…” She winced. “It’s really not fun anymore.”

“What are you planning on doing about that?”

“I can try to make it up to you, I guess,” Kaela said breathily, checking her nails. “From what I can tell, you haven’t seen Arachna’s good side.”

“I thought this was the good side.” Lance gestured around the room.

Kaela grimaced like she’d just tasted something sour. “I suppose it’s all a matter of perspective. Regardless, Arachna has its good spots. You just have to know where and when to look.”

“When?”

“Lance, the nightlife in Arachna is somewhat of a hidden gem. People like you only crawl out from under their boulders during the day and slither back in when it gets dark out. You should be doing the opposite.”

“Call it what you want, but in the slums, we call that survival.”

Kaela stood and peeked out the glass of the office door. “I plan on getting some sleep tonight. We’ll meet up tomorrow night, and I’ll show you what Arachna has to offer.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?”

She tapped her fingers against the wooden desk. “I doubt it. Like Eric said, Daniel probably wanted to keep his little operation a secret. And if anyone is still alive, they’ll be after Eric, not us.”

Lance bit his lip.

“We can’t stay in here forever, Lance,” Kaela added.

“Hard to believe I managed to squeeze an apology out of you,” Lance said, changing the subject to hide the nerves coiling around his chest.

“First and the last time,” she said back.

The hand dryer stopped, and Derek stepped out, redressed in his clothes. “Okay, I think everything’s dry.” He handed Kaela her clothes, then Lance his.

“I wouldn’t want to offend you two gentlemen again, so I’ll change in the bathroom this time. I’ll dry my hair, too, while I’m at it.”

Derek ran a hand across his bald head. “At least I don’t have to worry about that.”

Lance stood there with his clothes, silently waiting for a chance to change with no one looking.

“Oh.” Derek seemed to realize Lance’s intent and left the room.

When Lance had his clothes on, and Kaela was done in the bathroom, he closed himself in next. He leaned his head against the wall and let the loud hand dryer drown out the noise in his brain. Warmth filled the room, and he was tempted to stay like that the rest of the night.

He blinked, and the smell of burnt skin filled the room. Crackling sounded in his ears. He looked down at his hands and could almost feel the flaking skin. He squirmed, and his stomach twisted.

He sat up, bumping his head against the dryer.

The air was different. Everything sounded and smelled and looked the same—but different. Could killing a person really make everything shift like this?

He was a monster. The nightmares had tried to tell him for years.

They were right.