I know that I should use this day to recover, but I can’t sit still. While Henry goes into his comatose rest for the day, I pace around the rest of his apartment. I try watching TV, reading a book, browsing on his tablet…but nothing can pull me out of the case. Or, more accurately, I can’t let myself focus on anything else. I’m still thinking about the conduit, that it is the stolen blood of the werewolves that will be used against them in a spell to force them to change. Where is all that blood being stored? I can’t trace it…but Henry might be able to. And if not him, then Brianna should be able to pick up the scent of her slain kin’s blood, right? As the hours crawl by, I keep thinking of the possibility of searching for the conduit tonight. With both Henry and Brianna with me, we’re sure to find something.

If I can convince Brianna to help us, that is. Maybe it’s better to leave Henry to ask and keep racking up my debt with him.

Giddy with the possibility of finding the conduit, I’m nearly beside myself by the time the sun goes down and I hear Henry stirring in his bedroom. I practically sprint to the door, and would have startled him by being there right as it opened if his vampiric hearing didn’t pick up the sound of my rushing footsteps.

“Riley?”

"Let’s go look for the conduit!”

“What?”

“The conduit! If the conduit is blood, and there’s been several bodies’ worth of it collected, then it’s got to have left some trace. I’m thinking along the lines of smell, and that if we can get Brianna to help us tonight, between the two of you we’ll track down where the conduit is.”

Henry stares at me and I want to seize him by the shoulders and shake him. I think he senses my intention, because he clears his throat. “You don’t think it would be best to wait for tomorrow? And your appointment with Castillo?”

“There’s a chance he doesn’t know shit,” I remind him. “Granted, it’s a small chance, but it’s there nevertheless. If we don’t try, that’s another entire night that Elena has to pull off this spell.”

Henry looks like he wants to argue, but he sighs and nods. “All right. I’ll help you.”

“Thanks, seriously,” I reply. Then I wait a second or two before I attempt a placating smile. “Do you think you could call Brianna and ask her to join us? I don’t have my phone, and I think she’d be less inclined to if it came from me.”

“I have been thinking I need a job of late,” Henry replies. “I suppose being your personal messenger is an option. I expect time off and good benefits.”

“You got it, Mr. Stone.”

He shakes his head and pulls his phone from his pocket. While he dials Brianna’s number, I go into the kitchen and make another pot of coffee. I’m listening intently, and I do hear Henry switching to encouraging and then somewhat pleading. As the coffee pot begins to hiss and bubble to life, he joins me in the kitchen.

“She’s not thrilled with the idea,” he admits. “But she’ll join us here and then we can head out.”

“Did she already know where you lived?” I ask.

Henry actually raises a finger to point at me, making me think of Harrison Ford when his character ‘gets serious,’ “don’t start.”

“Fine, fine.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•

About an hour later there’s a knock at the door, and Henry opens it to admit Brianna into the apartment. She doesn’t look around the place as she might have if it was her first time being here, and it makes me dreadfully curious about how friendly the two of them are. That’s personal, though, and not the shit I want to bring up right now, especially with her not wanting to be here in the first place.

Her dark eyes land on me. “You just bouncing between safe houses?” she asks.

“Pretty much,” I admit. “This fugitive thing sucks.”

“Yeah boy, I bet,” she smirks. “Least you aren’t walking around like a fucking zombie now.”

“Small mercies.” If only I felt entirely better from everything that passed lately. I’m not great at compartmentalizing, but I’m managing enough to keep me stable for now. “Let’s not waste time, we have big parts of the city to comb through.”

“Uh-uh,” Brianna says. “If it was somewhere in Boston, one of us would have caught it. You don’t think we got all our Halcones on alert? I’m betting it’s in Margadh Sióg.”

"I doubt it.”

“Don’t be so dismissive to go there just because you made a scene,” Brianna replies.

"Perhaps this would be a more productive evening if we didn’t spend it arguing,” Henry suggests.

“It’d be more noticeable in the fucking market,” I stress. “You got a bunch of vampires and wolves there, not to mention the goddamn dragon in the Archives. Someone would have picked up on it.”

“He says with all the certainty of a dumbass,” Brianna sneers.

"Stop,” it’s not a demand really, Henry isn’t the sort who gives demands. I think it’s the sincerity in the request that halts both me and Brianna from continuing our tiff.

“Let’s start in Boston then,” Brianna says begrudgingly. “And if we don’t find shit, we’ll go to the market afterwards.”

“Sounds good,” I reply.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•

I understand Brianna’s misgivings as we begin our search. We can’t walk all through Boston in a single night, and while Brianna has a car, it’s not practical to stop at every street or to have her and Henry hanging their heads out of the windows sniffing while we course through twists, turns and tunnels.

The best I can offer is a solid assumption. It’s my understanding that most of the mages in the city tend to congregate in the same area when it comes to where they choose to live. When I suggest we begin in Charlestown for this reason, neither Henry nor Brianna have an objection. Since she drove here, Brianna offers to drive us to our destination. She’s not as aggressive as Billy was, but she’s close enough that my heart aches.

"I can certainly feel the presence of a lot of mages," Henry says as we get into the neighborhood.

"Now we just need the presence of blood," I murmur.

"Might as well find somewhere to park and start looking," Brianna suggests.

As Brianna looks for parking, I try not to let my mind wander. I need to focus on the conduit, on the blood...and not Billy's blood, pouring out of his mouth, and nose, and eyes, and ears. I need to keep my mind away from the doubt manifesting as Brianna turns into a public garage; of every potential lead I've come up with ending in disaster. Will this be one too?

I sense Henry looking at me and I shake myself from the reverie, doing my best to look stoic. "All right, I'll keep an eye out for any signs that we've been spotted," I say. "So, you two focus on the blood."

"I mean, your Order isn't going to arrest us just for walking through the neighborhood, is it?" Brianna asks.

"No," but I'm not convinced by my own answer.

Brianna and Henry exchange a glance that I feel blatantly excludes me. Even if I'm suspended and, on the run, I'm still part of Cerberus. I can't be part of their world; I can't know the trepidation they must have about the Order. But they don't back down, and I'm grateful for that as we leave the car and head out of the parking garage to begin our search.

While it's obvious that many mages do live in this neighborhood, nothing points to anything sinister happening here. We go down main streets, side streets, down narrow alleys, and dead ends, only for Brianna and Henry to shake their head at every turn. No scent of blood, no indication of an exceptionally powerful mage either. Just the steady hum of magic by those who can wield it, and nothing more.

I'm feeling that doubt again, sharp and constricting. Maybe I fucked up again, and Brianna was right about going to the market instead. It's already past 3 in the morning, we don't have a lot of time left before Henry has to retreat from the sun. If we find nothing...then I'm completely reliant on getting information from Castillo later this morning, but I'm less than certain I'll get anything out of the alpha.

"What now?" Brianna asks, not even trying to hide the impatience in her voice.

"Brighton," I mutter. "That's the other neighborhood that the mages tend to live."

"Uh huh," obviously she's not betting on success.

"Let's go," Henry suggests. "It's definitely not here, but we won't know about Brighton until we look around."

"Right."

The shroud of malignant misgivings is heavy, like storm clouds pressing in all around me, charging the air and promising a violent tempest. I try not to think of the worst-case scenario, that we succeed in finding our killer only for me to lose Henry in the following conflict. Even Brianna's loss would be devastating at this point. I'm the only reason she's continually been in harm's way, in some shape or another. I almost tell them to forget about it, that we should give up and think of another angle. But I don't have any other angles to explore, nothing else comes to mind save for that same exhaustion that had me wandering the market aimlessly just days ago.

'Pull yourself out of it goddammit.'

Resolute, I force those negative thoughts down. Maybe I'll address them later, maybe they'll just be left to fester. It doesn't matter, nothing about my personal shit matters, I just have to solve this case.

"Riley?" Henry asks as we approach the car.

"Yeah?"

"When we find the conduit, what do we do with it?"

I could hug him for his optimism, that he's so sure we'll find anything at all. "It has to be stored in something, so we take it and then we destroy it."

"Can't we bury it?" Brianna asks.

I wince, and shake my head. "It could still be used in that case," I say. "I'm sorry."

"Whatever."

"It would probably be best if I handed it into the Order," I add.

"Fuck no!" Brianna snaps. "Couldn't those assholes just use it in that case? You aren't giving them a weapon to control us with!"

"They wouldn't..."

"How do you know?" she demands. "How do you know they won't threaten to have one of their mages do freaky shit with it that hurts us or cuts us down somehow?"

"Okay, okay," I sigh.

"You’re just thinking of yourself," she adds grimly. "And getting your job back."

"That wasn't the reason," I reply. "I just know they have a lot of tools that could help them destroy it for good."

"It's blood, we'll fucking incinerate it or some shit!"

"Blood infused with a hyper-powerful mage's magic," I remind her.

"What about someone in the market?" Henry asks. I know he means Vasilisa; he just doesn't want to say her name in front of me.

Truth is, she should be able to destroy it without any problems, so I reluctantly nod. Brianna did have a good point, me finding and turning in the conduit would have put me back in the Order's good graces...but I repeat the same mantra; I don't matter right now. Only the case matters.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•

“There’s a lot of magical energy around here too,” Henry says as Brianna turns onto Commonwealth Avenue in Brighton. She stops the car and he indicates a lofty brownstone. “Especially there.”

“Okay, that’s a good start. Mages still live around here,” I say. “Now we need to find the goddamn conduit.”

“If it’s here,” Brianna points out.

“Put that nose to work and find out,” I suggest.

She gives me a look and I’m sure none of her thoughts are flattering. It doesn’t help that we’re stuck in the confined space of her car until she can find parking, yet again a tedious event no matter what part of the city we’re in. Finally, she manages to find a space in a parking lot, and we step out. Brianna heads off at a brisk pace, but I can tell that she is sniffing for blood so…at least she’s contributing despite her obvious ire.

I need to stop putting people into these situations, riling them up…increasing the risk of danger. I can’t stop thinking of Billy, and how he would be here with us if I didn’t get him killed. Even if it was Elena who did the deed, she would never have thought to if I didn’t force him to take the fucking Whiteworm.

“Are you okay?” Henry asks.

“No,” I reply. “But I’ll deal with it later.”

“Make sure you do,” is his only protest, and I’m relieved that he isn’t going to get into it with me right now. I nod to appease him anyway, and follow Brianna.

I’m keeping a wary eye out for any of the Order’s Incantatores, since it’s as likely some of them live in this neighborhood as it was in Charlestown. I’ll be no help to anyone if I’m spotted and arrested, and I don’t want to think how they would twist things to get Henry and Brianna in trouble too. Maybe it says something that I’m so paranoid about the Order’s intentions. I’ll chalk that up to ‘deal with it later’ too, and keep my eyes open to any signs that we’re being watched.

There’s no such sign, and after going up and down Commonwealth Avenue, there’s no sign of the conduit either.

“Just smells like the rest of the city, pretty much,” Brianna says with a wrinkled nose.

“No great amount of blood,” Henry agrees.

“Well, fuck,” I sigh. “Next street then, this isn’t the only one in Brighton that has resident mages…right?”

“I think I like it better when you’re certain, even if you don’t really know shit,” Brianna says.

“Okay, this isn’t the only street in Brighton that has resident mages.”

"Oh, I’m so relieved now.”

“You’re welcome.”

“How did you put up with this?” Brianna asks Henry.

“Because he’s a saint. Just ask your boss,” I reply.

Brianna lofts a brow and Henry frowns at us both. “At the moment, I’d say you’re both fortunate that’s the case. Let’s move on, please.”

We stay on alert as we continue combing through Brighton. The hour is late enough that we don’t see many people, and those we do pass don’t give us a second look. At least we’re managing to look like we belong here. Without a solid lead, however, we’re just taking aimless streets in the hopes of picking anything up. I can sense Brianna’s growing impatience, and know she’ll be suggesting we go to Margadh Sióg soon.

It’s when we get to Wilshire Road that Henry pauses. He looks like he’s on the alert, eyes scanning the immediate area of neat, brick houses. Brianna is keyed up too, and I can imagine the wolf within bristling.

“What is it?” I whisper.

“Blood,” Henry says.

"This way,” Brianna adds, taking point as she continues up the street.

We pass a couple of duplexes on our left, single-family homes on our right, until Brianna stops in front of the latter. It’s not profoundly different from any of the other buildings on Wilshire, at least on the surface, but whatever is inside has my supernatural companions on edge.

The house is a great square behemoth. Solid brick, two stories, with what looks like a sizeable backyard from here. Curtains are drawn over the four windows set in the face of the building, blocking any chance of getting a glimpse inside.

“Do we…knock?” Henry asks.

“And say what? Hi, we know you have a shit ton of werewolf blood stashed here?” Brianna retorts. “I say we go in quietly, and then I take my time with the asshole inside.”

“I know you want revenge,” I say. “I do too, but we have to make sure we stop this entirely.”

“Uh, yeah. Killing the bastard seems like a good solution,” Brianna snaps.

“We don’t know what we don’t know,” I point out.

“Nor will we know anything if we remain out here,” Henry adds.

“I can’t argue with that,” I reply. “Okay, let’s go around back. Maybe we can find a better access point than barging through the front door.”

Brianna still looks mutinous, and I get it. She’s lost a lot of her pack in a short amount of time, but she doesn’t argue. As eager as she is to put an end to this, it isn’t enough to make her bat away logic. No wonder she’s Castillo’s second.

After a quick look around to make sure there’s no one nearby who could see us skulking around this expensive home, we proceed to move cautiously around the side and to the back. There’s a chain-link fence around the property, but it’s no trouble for any of us to climb up and over it. There’s a large porch bordering the first level of the house, and an equally impressive balcony for the second story. I’m guessing it’s meant for two families, which means if it’s occupied and we get the wrong unit we’ll alert our primary target.

“Can you get a read on how many are inside?” I ask.

Brianna shakes her head. “Too much blood, I can’t smell much else.”

“Henry?”

“Hold on, let me listen.”

Brianna and I go silent as Henry stands stock still. It’s unnerving, because as it happens, he loses all signs of vitality. He becomes a statue, a standing corpse. I almost want to shake him out of it, but I settle for looking away from him.

“Only one,” he says after careful consideration.

“All right, well at least we won’t bust in on Mr. and Mrs. Smith,” I reply. “Could you tell where they were?”

“The room at the left end of the hall, second story.”

I nod and we go to the back door, a beautiful double-paned French set. I test the handle, locked of course, and indicate to my companions to give me a minute. I inspect the lock, and while it would be much easier if there wasn’t a deadbolt, I’m not surprised to see the glint of it.

“Do you have any bobby pins?” I ask Brianna.

She reaches up to her cloudy hair, which she’s styled into a bun at the back of her head, and withdraws a couple pins. I thank her as she hands them to me, then twist and turn the pins until they’re the shape I need. With that done, I hunker down to begin picking the lock, sliding one pin into place, followed by the next to lift the lock pins up. I want to rush through it, but I force myself to be patient and diligent in my movements. With a click, and a relieved sigh from me, the lock disengages and I can open the back door.

“I think whoever’s here is asleep,” Henry whispers as we step inside.

I nod, then press a finger to my lips. The rooms around us are neatly designed, it looks staged for a showing, but there’s a fine layer of dust over the countertops and furniture. It hasn’t been maintained for a little while. Either our culprit has rented both units and didn’t bother with this one, or something more sinister turned potential neighbors away.

We move slowly through the well-decorated rooms, making our way towards the front of the house. There’s a solid door between us and the front entrance, but being on this side makes it a nonissue to unlock the way and step into the foyer. A narrow staircase leads up the stairs and to another solid looking door, the way into the second unit.

Another deadbolt, of course. I still have the bobby pins, so I set to work on picking this lock too. Only, it’s being a lot more of a hassle than the back door. I grimace as I keep trying to get the pins up, feeling my irritation growing, getting the best of me, a painful nudge of my lingering fragility.

“Move,” Brianna says, obviously as impatient as I am.

I shift over and she grabs the doorknob. I see the corded veins in her arms bulge a little as she exerts her inhuman strength against the doorknob, and wince when she slams her shoulder into the door and breaks through the deadlock.

We all freeze, listening closely.

“They’re awake,” Henry murmurs.

I’m almost expecting to see Elena emerge from the shadows, but if it was her residing here, surely Henry would have sensed her magic by now. Which begs the question of who just woke up, and what sort of a threat could they end up being?

"Wait…” Henry trails off, his brow furrows. “There’s more than one now.”

“What?” I ask.

“There’s,” he pauses when he buckles, as if suddenly under the weight of great force. A great influx of magic. “There’s ten.”

I see a shifting shadow in the depths of the hall, and realize it is something rushing towards us, silent as still water but bearing down on us with the might of a tsunami.

“BRIANNA GET DOWN!” I yell, but not trusting there being enough time for her to register and listen, I leap for her and tackle her to the floor just as that rushing force becomes a burst of flame that roars over us. Its heat is enough to leave our flesh stinging even if we’re under its direct path.

I’m expecting those vicious flames to twist downward and destroy us, but they vanish instead. I look up to see ten wraith-like figures, like plastic dolls the color of blood. Their forms ripple, their blank faces indented where eyes and mouth would be. The familiarity comes to me in a flash. This is what I saw in Southie when Billy, Chiaki, and I investigated the werewolf strike team. The shadow in the basement…it was this.

I get up, Brianna follows suit. “The conduit’s set to fucking attack intruders,” I hiss.

A shimmer passes through all ten figures in perfect synchronicity before they suddenly merge into one form. I see the giant hand it becomes close around Henry and smash him through the floor and into the bottom unit.

“Henry!” I yelp, sliding to a stop at the lip of the hole in the floor.

I see him on the ground below, sitting up with a groan and not severely injured. I’m knocked up and backwards when that bloody fist blasts up to the second level again. I land harshly on my back, my head throbbing from the blow. The conduit isn’t contained in anything, it’s been designed to be a weapon, a shield, so that even if it was found, it wouldn’t be easy to neutralize.

What we’re seeing is Elena’s true power, but all the power in the world needs a tactical mind behind it. I’m not sure what connection Elena has to the conduit, but there’s no way she can concentrate fully on us and maintain whatever deception she has going at headquarters. That is what we need to exploit to take her down. The fact remains, though, this is raw magical energy we’re dealing with.

“Oh my God,” Brianna whispers. She sounds sick. I glance at her, but she’s looking at the bloody wraiths that have formed once again. “She won’t even let them rest in peace…”

The blood of her pack members, utilized to further their destruction. Elena wouldn’t need to leave headquarters after the first werewolf was slain, she only had to use this bleak power. No trace of vampires at the scene, like Henry said from the start, it must have started as one of these wraiths, becoming two, becoming three as more werewolves were killed.

I grimace as the dark mass shifts form again, like a wall stretching the width of the hall. Thick liquid bubbles along the surface, rises, and becomes sharp points before this death wall comes speeding towards us. I curse and leap down the hole, shouting for Henry to move out of the way. Brianna follows me, and all three of us hurry from the opening overhead. It’s a good thing, the wraiths come slamming down with the force of a giant sledgehammer seconds later, making the floor beneath our feet shake.

“You good?” I ask Henry breathlessly.

He nods, eyes fastened on the monstrosity.

"How the fuck do we fight this thing?” Brianna growls.

“Perhaps I could—” Henry begins.

“What, eat it?” I interrupt. “No way, that would probably kill you! Look for anything made of iron or silver!”

We hurry through the first level unit again, I’m sure the plates and silverware in the dining room are made of silver. I hope they’re made of silver. The wraiths are chasing after us, and I test my theory by grabbing a dinner plate from the head of the table, turning on my heel to take aim and throw it like a discus towards the closest one. It strikes the wraith, making it stop in its track and…“Yes!” I exclaim when it noticeably writhes in pain.

I see that Henry has grabbed a nearby floor lamp, tossing aside the shade and wielding the wrought-iron base as a staff. When one of the wraiths gets close enough, he swings mightily and the wraith is split in two. There’s no time to properly celebrate, however, because I see the two parts of it on the floor slide back together to reform. The wraith I injured is also mended.

I hear a great, wrenching groan from the kitchen and see Brianna emerge wielding the refrigerator door. Stainless steel -- mostly iron, and a great way to use all her pent-up anger and frustration. With a yell, she uses it like a riot shield and smashes into one of the wraiths, charging forward and slamming it into the one behind. Her charge ends when she gets them crushed to the wall with enough force that the door lodges into plaster, effectively trapping them in place.

The three of us get close again, preparing for the next offensive but the wraiths just stand there. It’s eerie, feeling like their sightless eyes are staring so intensely at us. I see blood sliding down the wall under the refrigerator, pooling together on the floor and forming as another adversary. This isn’t good, whatever attacks we make are barely slowing the conduit down.

“What’s happening?” Henry asks.

I peer at the shapes in front of us. His eyes must have caught it before mine could register it, but now I see that the wraiths are evaporating. They form a vaporous cloud rippling across the ceiling, and for a second, I prepare for some new, awful attack. Instead, the cloud floats up through the hole in the ceiling and out of sight.

“What the hell?” Brianna asks.

“Either it’s being moved or the spell is about to happen!” I exclaim. “We can’t lose the conduit!”

“Brianna and I can follow it,” Henry says quickly. “You should get something, anything, that can contain it!”

I nod, thinking I must have something in my basement that could detain it.

“And you need to dip out the second it starts getting light,” Brianna adds to Henry. “I’ll keep following it regardless. Here,” she tosses me her car keys.

“Take my mobile too,” Henry says, handing me his phone.

We rush out of the house. Henry and Brianna hurry off, following the scent of blood, while I run back to the parking lot. I reach Brianna’s car, yank the door open and slump into the seat, scrambling to get the key in the ignition. It’s been a while since I last drove, and I’m not entirely sure of the directions from here to my place, but I finally catch a break when I notice Brianna has a built-in GPS. Focusing to keep my fingers from fumbling, I punch in my address, cursing at the thing for taking 30 seconds to calculate, then pull away from the parking lot to follow its directions.

I’m in the Back Bay area when Henry’s phone rings. I accept the call, hoping for some good news.

“It’s gone,” Brianna says.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, Henry and I are still looking, but I’m sending him home soon. Any suggestions?”

“Just…keep looking.”

“Right.”

We hang up and I slow down, thankful it’s at least early enough that there isn’t much traffic yet. I’m in the neighborhood anyway, and my meeting with Castillo may not be for a few hours, but he can deal with me coming early. I’m feeling my lack of weaponry especially hard when I reach this decision, but if the summoned conduit is indicative of the spell beginning, I don’t have the time to get the necessary defenses should Castillo opt for violence. With his reputation…I better consider praying again.