Chapter Twenty-Two

“Easiest place to find a vampire at night is Skid Row.”

“Sounds unpleasant.”

“It’s where the most hopeless of the homeless live. At least 5000 homeless are there year-round.” We were driving back toward Downtown L.A.

“Geeze.”

“Been that way since the ‘30s. Forty-two percent of the population is below the poverty line. Over 17,000 people packed within four square miles.”

“Doesn’t anyone try to help?”

“Sure. But it’s never going to be an easy fix. Vampires will feed in the middle of the night and who’s going to miss anyone there?”

A shiver ran through me and my heart hurt.

Then, I saw it.

So many tents, so many vulnerable people. There was homeless and then there was this—squatting on sidewalks and shooting up in alleys in broad daylight. We passed missions and shelters, but they obviously couldn’t deal with all of it.

Every so often, someone met my eyes and their soul was broken. How did you fix it when there was no light left?

I wiped a tear from my right eye before it fell.

“It’s worse in the dark,” he said quietly.

“What’s next?”

“In cities we regularly patrol, you’ll learn the hospitals, mortuaries, and underground systems. We do our best to intercept bite victims before they rise. L.A. doesn’t have a werewolf problem, but they can pop up elsewhere. Visit a place often enough and you learn the bad neighborhoods, demographics, and industrial areas.”

“My classes covered all that.”

“What they don’t tell you about Los Angeles are the rumors.”

“Rumors.”

Now he had my attention.

“I have sources that tell me things. One legend of recent years talks about a woman with purple hair, gleaming silver eyes, and immense power. She’s like a patron saint for the weak.”

I laughed. “Sounds like a fairytale.”

“I thought so, too, at first, but sightings have been reported for three years. They say if you’re in trouble and you call for her, she’ll come and rescue you.”

“Wow. Who told you?”

“I’ve made friends with some of the Underground. They trust me enough to pass on info. Obviously, like any myth, this tale has probably been exaggerated, but legends usually start from a grain of truth. Tell you one thing—demons are afraid of this chick, whatever she is.”

“Seriously?”

A quick glance at me. “They’d rather take their chances with Juliet.”

“Huh.”

If some woman or powerful being had the mojo to clear the city of evil, why didn’t she?

“Sounds like the cautionary tale a monster would tell its kids at night, like the Boogeyman.”

He chuckled. “Like I said, I’m sure it’s blown up. But if there is someone helping out, good. And since this thing doesn’t sound like any of us, Juliet can’t blame it on The Agency.”

“Shouldn’t we investigate the truth behind the myth? Have you researched since you first heard it?” Every rumor held a kernel of truth.

“Nah.”

I slugged his arm. “Why not?”

“Because it isn’t doing any harm and I had better things to do. Like train you.”

Grr. He could be so frustrating.

“What else don’t I know here?”

“There are two ex-agents living in the county.”

“What?”

“Agents Nine and Thirteen. The Thirteen from the ‘80s. They patrol outside L.A.”

I stared at him.

He shrugged. “It’s a big county.”

“I thought once in the agency, always in the agency.”

A wiggle of his right hand. “From a certain point of view.”

“Point of view?”

He sighed. “The abilities we possess never leave, so that part of ‘always’ is true. But not all agents are cut out for the job long term.”

“Wow…how many castaways do you know of?”

The story gave me hope for my future choices in life.

“There’s another living in San Diego, last I heard. Nine still works for us, technically, but the Director lets her do her own thing after years of dedicated service.”

“Years? How old is she?”

“Thirty-six.”

Double my age. Holy crap. “When was she drafted?”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Fifteen or sixteen. Before my time, obviously. I’ve never done a mission with her.”

“I can’t imagine eighteen years of this.”

“We’re made for it, Seven. We heal and age better than normals. The agents you saw recovering? Some came back from the brink of death. Scars fade.”

“At least on the outside.”

He glanced at me, and went quiet, like I surprised him in acknowledging mental trauma.

“I’m not a kid. I know PTSD is possible in this line of work. Why else would there be a therapist on staff?”

Thirteen pulled into the parking lot for an independent burger joint and cut the engine. “You’re right. The guy in San Diego left because he couldn’t hack it anymore.” He pushed the button to release his seatbelt and pivoted toward me. “I was proud of you for meeting them. Once you committed, you’ve faced every challenge thrown at you.”

“Was that part of graduation—facing the possibilities in the hospital?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know every measure of criteria the Council uses, but it certainly didn’t hurt your case.”

“Only Five and Eleven graduated with me. I assumed it was because we passed the same classes and were old enough.” Since it seemed we weren’t going anywhere, I mirrored him.

“Mature enough.”

“You’re right,” I said, nodding. “The others are still children.”

“Do you trust Five and Eleven?”

“Yeah. Lev is a good friend. He was the tall, lanky guy with me on St. George.”

“Ah, right, hadn’t grown into his ears, yet.”

“Be nice.”

He grinned. “I’m always nice. But you have to admit he’s like a car going down the street with open doors.”

I kicked his shin. “Mean! They’re not that bad.”

“Sorry.” Right. He didn’t mean it much. Men. “What about Five?”

“He’s a little older than me and the only one to also have contact with a vampire. He was at HQ with a broken leg when I arrived. Five did the work and earned graduation, but I don’t know him well. We were on different schedules and only had gym time together. I kept to myself except when the boys were giving Lev a hard time. He ended up with me for the sim because they left him behind, but he’s good at this stuff. They just didn’t give him a chance.”

“Always use your gut, okay? If you’re partnered with someone and something doesn’t feel right, staying alive is more important than following orders.”

That sounded ominous.

“You know, when all your advice sounds like it comes from experience, it makes me curious.”

He smiled. “Keep wondering.”

I scowled, he laughed, and he opened the door.

“Come on, I’m hungry.”

It was late afternoon by the time we got back to the house, but the sun still had hours left to shine. Amelia stood in the doorway under the carport, arms crossed and foot tapping.

“Where have you been? You’ve been out of contact all day!”

What was she, our mother?

“Thornhill, the kid returns without a scratch. No need to have your panties in a bunch.” Thirteen opened the back of the van and started unloading some equipment.

She turned to let me inside and sniffed at me. “You ate fast food on a mission?”

Geeze, woman. “We had lunch after the job was done. People do that. Excuse me, I need to change.”

“Change?” She followed me up the stairs. “What is he up to now?”

“Monsters come out at night.” Duh.

I needed a wash before getting in my suit, and grabbed things in my room to do so.

“You are not going out on the streets at night in Los Angeles.”

“Really.”

“I forbid it!”

We were the same height, so I got in her face. “You forbid it? Really?”

A flutter of her lids and she took a step back. “This is highly unwise.”

“We’re not messing with Juliet. I promise. It’s a big town. Plenty to do without provoking her. Now stop blocking the bathroom.”

Sighing, she moved aside.

“Seven…” Her voice dropped to a hint above a whisper. “He’ll hurt you one day. Don’t follow him blindly.”

Then she went to her room.

What the heck? Was she so possessive over my career?

Thirteen was an agent in esteem and didn’t deserve her tarnishing his reputation—for what? Because I liked him better than the cold and bossy woman I was stuck with?

The water and I washed away the negativity so I could focus on tonight.

Hunting missions meant making sure your weapons were prepared beforehand. Knives sharpened, guns oiled and loaded, etc. Gave me time alone away from the tension between them.

Once we were in the van later, I asked him for the story between him and Amelia.

“What? She’s prickly with everybody.”

“No…she doesn’t trust you and I want to know why.”

“What did she say?” He kept his eyes on the road.

“She said you’ll hurt me one day.”

“That’s crazy. My team always makes it out alive.”

“Then what did she mean, Thirteen?”

Ugh, rhyming.

“I don’t know! The most I’ve interacted with her is regarding you.”

“Well, you offended her somehow, or she wouldn’t say that.”

Red light. He looked at me. “I really have no idea.”

Held my gaze until I believed him.

“Okay.”

“Are you going to do that woman thing of making me fix something I didn’t do?”

“Coach, stop while you’re ahead.”

“Roger that.” The light turned green.

He took me to a seedy part of the county no sane human would walk after dark. The evening air was still warm, so we stuck weapons into holsters and left the coats in the plain van.

He’d removed the decals this afternoon.

There was a pervasive scent of garbage, like the trucks didn’t want to risk the weekly pickup. City lights reflected in clouds they called the marine layer gave the sky a red hue. It was creepy. Did people ever see stars here?

“Some nights,” he murmured.

Didn’t realize I said the question out loud.

We crept around a mix of rundown or abandoned homes and dirty industrial buildings that reeked of chemicals. How did humans accept living like this?

Voices in an alley.

Thirteen held a hand up to signal halt. We peered around the concrete corner of a building, but it was only a group of humans. Probably gang activity, but they didn’t fall under our mandate.

Half an hour produced no Creatures.

“This was a bust,” I said back at the van.

“Hunters of wildlife game have the same luck, kid. Takes a lot of patience to bag a kill. Waiting and searching and patience.”

“Sticking with that analogy, the hunter also has to go where their prey eats or sleeps in the first place.”

“We can’t.”

“Why not fly over Juliet’s house and bomb it? She’s vulnerable to the same things every vampire is, so if she’s always at the house, the solution seems simple. Letting her have L.A. gives her too much power.”

“I agree.”

I blinked. “You do?”

“But the Council thinks it’s not enough to cut off the head of the snake because she’s too organized. We kill her and her followers retaliate.”

“If war is inevitable, how long do we let the enemy build up its forces?”

“I don’t know, kid.” His expression was grim in the passing street lights. Shaking his head, he repeated, “I don’t know.”

He drove a while, until we entered a city called Pasadena.

Lots of old architecture.

He stopped in front of a vintage house, Victorian-ish, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. “Wait here.”

He got out of the van and locked it.

It was the only house on the block without a porch light. Instead of going to the door, he melted into the shadows and hopped the fence to the back. What was he now, a burglar?

Keeping an eye on my watch, I tried to relax, focusing on my breathing. Waiting patiently in the quiet was one of the hardest lessons at HQ. When you first learn to meditate, your mind fills with tons of noise as soon as you try to think of nothing. Repeating a mantra is easier, but the ultimate goal was to go blank so our senses would awake and take in everything around us. Distill the world down to the one thing you needed to learn from your surroundings.

That no one on this block was normal.

Thirteen had brought me to a supernatural neighborhood.

Ten minutes had passed.

Too long. He could be—

I stepped out of the van and he was there. “Don’t do that!” I whispered.

Pulling his mask down to reveal his mouth, he grinned. He’d spooked me and enjoyed it. “Back inside, please.” Only when the van was moving again did he speak. “We’re not going to find much to take care of.”

“You were talking to a source?”

He nodded. “The bad eggs have all taken residence within Juliet’s boundaries.”

“What drove them to condense ranks?”

“The county has some protectors. We won’t find a good hunt unless we go north, south, or way east.”

I sighed.

“It’s good news,” he added.

“You’re not going to give me specifics, are you?”

He shook his head. “Sources have to trust you. You’ll learn that as you develop your own.”

“So many secrets…”

“But I can tell you there’s a nest of young Golds in Riverside.”

What were we waiting for? “Put the pedal to the metal, then!”

He laughed at my enthusiasm. “So bossy.”