Up From the Grave

Thirty-two

This section of Detroit’s east side reminded me of photos I’d seen of Germany after the Allied invasion. Abandoned buildings loomed like battered, concrete giants over streets that appeared empty until the humps of clothing alongside them moved. Most of the streetlights were out, which could explain the burning trash cans since the summer evening wasn’t chilly. Every so often, a faraway siren broke through the other sounds, but although fights, glass shattering, and the occasional gunshot seemed commonplace, I hadn’t seen a single police car.

Good for us. Bad for whoever called this derelict place that America forgot home.

“Cat!”

Fabian zoomed toward me, his face lit by a beautiful smile. Then movement on the roof of one of the lower buildings caught my eye. I tensed until I recognized the vampire striding toward the edge.

“Welcome,” Ian said, sounding anything but convivial. “Hope you enjoy the smell. A little more raw sewage, and it would be just like the place I grew up in.”

Another form appeared behind him. At some point since I’d last seen Tate, he’d shaved his face and shorn his hair into its usual buzz cut.

“Mr. Fancy Pants hasn’t stopped bitching since he arrived,” he muttered. Then Tate frowned, looking farther down the empty street.

“Why do you have a bunch of ghosts following you?”

I turned to see at least two dozen ghosts trailing about fifty yards behind us. Good. We’d been hoping Marie’s borrowed power would lure nearby spooks like they were moths and I a shining flame. Detroit was a large city, and though Ian and Tate had scented Katie in several spots, they hadn’t managed actually to set eyes on her.

Now we had reinforcements, and thanks to the grave power running through my veins, the ghosts would be compelled to obey my commands.

“Where do you think you have Katie’s location narrowed down to?” I asked, avoiding Tate’s question.

His frown said he noticed my omission, but he replied without further comment.

“From what we’ve gathered, she moves around, but her scent has been strongest at the old book depository, the former Packard auto plant, former Central Station, and the old church on East Grand Boulevard.”

“Thanks.”

Then I faced the ghosts, who drifted closer at my beckoning wave.

“I need you to find a little girl for me,” I told them. “She’s about four feet tall, auburn hair, and her eyes might glow. She’s probably hiding in one of the places my friend just mentioned. If you see her, only tell me or this ghost here.” As I nodded at Fabian.

My entourage dispersed as soon as I finished speaking. Fabian left with them before I could specify that he wasn’t included in the order. Tate shook his head in disbelief, but a knowing look crossed Ian’s face.

“You’re back on Marie’s sauce.”

Bones flew up to the roof. I followed, landing with only an additional extra step to balance myself.

“Yes,” I said shortly.

“What sauce? And who’s Marie?” Tate wondered, reminding me that he’d missed a lot while working for Don these past years.

“Not relevant at the moment,” Bones stated. “These new developments are.”

I said nothing while he brought them up to speed on Richard Trove’s being a demon and why he’d backed Madigan for nearly a decade. I still didn’t speak when Bones disclosed that Katie was my biological daughter, and how that was possible. Only after Ian asked, “If she’s the mother, who’s the father?” did I break my silence.

“The records Trove published never gave a name. Since the sperm donor was a hundred percent human, he was considered . . . unimportant.”

Then I paused. I’d gone back and forth over revealing this next part, but so much had been kept from me that I couldn’t do the same to someone else. Especially a friend.

“I asked Madigan, but all we got out of him was that it was one of the soldiers I was working with at the time,” I finished.

Tate let out a disgusted snort.

“That’s why they kept getting samples of every fluid in our bodies. Don said it was to make sure no one was drinking vampire blood on the side, so even he must not have known what it was really for . . .”

His voice trailed off as the dots connected. Then he sank to his knees as if buckling under the weight of the realization. I wasn’t as affected because I’d already done the math. About two dozen soldiers had been working with me during my first year. Some had been killed on missions, more had dropped out from the stress, and some had transferred to other divisions, but only one had been there the entire time.

“My God,” Tate breathed.

“It’s not definite,” I said softly. “It could have been one of the other guys, but Tate . . . even if we tested both of you, there’s no way to be sure. Since you became a vampire, every cell in your body changed. Katie’s would’ve, too, once they added ghoul DNA to her genetic makeup.”

Tate still looked shell-shocked at the possibility that the little girl he’d been trying to find might be his biological daughter. Finally, he ran a hand through his hair and looked up at me.

“If tests are useless, she’ll never know who her father is.”

Bones slipped his hand into mine, his grip strong and sure.

“She will always know who her father is.”

That had Tate on his feet in a flash. Ian hauled him back when he lunged at Bones.

“You will not—” Tate began before his mouth froze along with the rest of him.

“That’s better,” Bones said in satisfaction.

I didn’t appreciate his method of stemming Tate’s argument, but in fairness, we were short on time.

I bridged the distance between them and touched Tate’s clenched fist, which had been frozen in place mid-swing.

“You have a one-in-twenty-something chance of being her biological father, so if you want to be part of Katie’s life, of course you can. Bones won’t stand in your way, but he’ll be there for her, too. As will I.”

Then I angled myself so Tate couldn’t avoid my gaze.

“But first, we have to get her out of here alive. That takes priority over everything else, doesn’t it?”

Tate blinked, which I took for a yes. Bones released him. The two men stared at each other while Tate shook his limbs as if to reassure himself that they were back under his control. Then his hands clenched, and a look of pure determination crossed his features.

Not again, I thought, expecting him to swing at Bones once more. Relief filled me when all Tate did was stick out his hand.

“I don’t like you, and I probably never will, but from this day forward, I’m willing to call a truce for Katie’s sake.”

Bones shook his hand with a brief, sardonic smile.

“Truce accepted, and while I feel the same way, just like Justina, seems now I’ll never be rid of you, either.”

Tate let out a bark of laughter. “I forgot this truce includes her mother. That’s some ugly karma the two of us are working off.”

Fabian flew onto the roof, stopping Bones from whatever his reply would have been.

“They’ve found her!” the ghost announced.

“That was bloody quick,” Ian muttered.

It was, but then again, no one could hide from the dead. Especially when they had you narrowed down to a small area. That’s why we’d dealt with Marie first instead of rushing here. She hadn’t known Katie was in Detroit, but with a little time, she would’ve found her.

I flashed a tight smile at the four men, feeling the vampire version of adrenaline surging through me.

“All right, boys. Let’s go get our girl.”

We landed on the roof of a large, square building with graffiti covering every inch of the safety ledge. Across the street, a far taller building blocked out the moonlight, its beautiful architecture in stark contrast to the rot I could smell within.

“Where are we?” I whispered.

“The Roosevelt Warehouse,” Bones said, also keeping his voice very low. “More commonly known as the Detroit book depository. Tunnels connect it to the old train station across the street. Perhaps that’s how Katie’s been traveling back and forth between the two.”

Fabian nodded, looking sad as he glanced around.

“I came here before, when it was new. I love books, but it’s so hard for me to read. I have to float behind people as they turn pages—”

“Fabian, where did the ghosts say Katie was?” I interrupted.

He snapped out of his reminiscing. “Follow me.”

Fabian passed through one of the barricaded doors of the hut-like structure on the roof. Impatience made me want to kick it open, but that would be too loud. I waited while Bones telekinetically pulled out the boards, then opened it as quietly as the rusted hinges allowed.

I still flinched at the noise it made, that creaking sounding like two pots banging together with my frazzled nerves. Once inside, it only took a glance at the deteriorated metal staircase to make me mime a “we’re flying” directive.

Bones grabbed Tate, holding him with an ease that belied the other vampire’s heavier build. Soundlessly, we streaked down the stairwell, following Fabian, who weaved in and out of the narrow space until he disappeared through another door.

This one wasn’t boarded up. It was cracked open, letting in a putrid whiff of the smell beyond. I pushed myself through with as little sound as possible, my gaze widening at the room beyond.

The scent of old smoke was almost overpowered by the odor of rotting paper, urine, death, and desperation. Books, magazines, and manuals lined the floor a foot deep in places, the ink almost unreadable from time and exposure to water. Small creatures had made nests in the literary rubble, some of them still there, though in varying states of decomposition.

From the smell, they weren’t the only bodies in this room, but as Fabian beckoned me onward, I didn’t pause at the shoe sticking out from a pile of ruined parchment. That person was long past my ability to help, anyway.

The scent of fresh smoke teased my nose the closer I got to the end of the room. Fabian paused, hovering near the ceiling, and pointed down.

Candlelight cast a faint amber glow amidst a pile of books stacked up like a partial igloo. At my angle, I couldn’t see over it, so I went higher, brushing the decaying ceiling in my eagerness.

I caught a glimpse of a little girl crouched over a half-rotted book when plaster crumbling from my nearness jerked her head up. Our eyes locked, and as I watched, hers began to turn bright, glowing green. My dormant heart began to beat in an erratic, staccato rhythm from the excitement that gripped me.

She was alive, well, and—once we got her out of here—safe.

“Katie,” I breathed, flying faster toward her.

Her hand snapped up as if she were waving at me. Then something burned in my chest. Bones dropped Tate and grabbed me, spinning me around. That made the burning sensation worse, but I still strained to see Katie before the intensity of the pain finally made me look down.

A knife jutted out from between my breasts. The handle was some strange combination of paper and old leather, but from the fire that spread through my body, the blade was silver.