silently inward.
“Holy shit. Now I see why you couldn’t explain it,” I said. “How’d you find the right tile?”
He looked over his shoulder with a crooked smile. “Magic.”
I managed not to groan. Walked right into that one.
Beyond the door, faint light from somewhere below illuminated a stone staircase. Reun took the lead as we headed down in single file. The air in the stairwell was cool, almost pleasant at first. But it wasn’t long before the stench of death crept in.
A thick steel, vault-style door stood open at the bottom of the stairs. There was a huge dent in the center of it, like it’d been punched by a giant fist. Once again, I was reminded of how powerful Reun really was—and this time I thought about Taeral. How he could be even stronger than the Seelie noble, if it wasn’t for me.
There had to be a way to get him out of this bullshit promise.
The first thing I saw in the secret room was the body. A short man with rust-red hair, lying face-up in a pool of blood at the center of the floor. His open, bulging eyes stared at the ceiling in endless horror. Unlike the other suit-clad Milus Dei guys we’d run into so far, this one wore jeans, a plain blue tee shirt, and a shabby coat. A black briefcase lay on the floor, about a foot from his outstretched arm.
A closer look revealed he was just a kid, maybe eighteen years old. Christ.
The rest of the room wasn’t much. It had been once—there were shelves and metal utility closets and tables scattered all over, but most of them were empty. Just a few papers here and there, something that looked like an umbrella in one of the closets, and a dirty coffee mug lying on its side on a table.
“Someone’s been here.”
The tight statement from Reun caught my attention. “It wasn’t like this when you left?”
“No. There were boxes, bags. They’d not moved things out yet.” He walked toward the body, crouched at the edge of the blood spill and pointed. “Here. You can see the impression where a box was removed.”
I looked. There was a kind of dimple in the curve of red liquid, and darker lines that formed the outline of a corner.
“Damn. And it wasn’t the cops, or they would’ve taken this kid too.”
Sadie gasped and stared at me. “Kid?”
“Yeah.” She must not’ve looked too closely at the dead guy. “And he doesn’t exactly fit the Milus Dei mold. You sure he was one of them, Reun?”
“Of course he was. He’s marked with their symbol.”
“Okay, then.” Still, it didn’t seem right, butchering a kid like that. “Guess I should talk to him. Find out what he knows.”
With a faint shudder, Sadie drifted further into the room and picked up the briefcase. “I’ll check this out,” she said. “Maybe there’s something in here.”
“Go for it.”
She nodded. “Tell us what he says, okay?”
“I will.”
I approached the body without much enthusiasm. Something told me I really didn’t want to talk to this kid, but with the other bodies gone, I didn’t have a choice.
As I tried to find a place next to him with the least amount of blood to kneel in, Sadie laid the briefcase on a table and popped the latches. I was surprised it wasn’t locked. She lifted it open, stared inside, and frowned vaguely as she leaned in closer.
Then she jumped back with a startled cry. “No,” she moaned. “No, please… ”
I rushed over and put an arm around her before she could fall. She’d gone white as paint, and her whole body trembled. “What is it?” I said, glancing at the open briefcase. It looked like all it contained was a stack of papers and a handful of glossy pictures, and something attached to the top photo with a paperclip. A stiff white rectangle of paper.
“My pack.” She turned her face to mine, her eyes stark with fear. “Gideon, that photo. That’s where my family lives.”
“Oh, Jesus…” Gut wrenching, I reached in and picked up the picture on top. It was a large, bunker-style building,
Learning to Kill: Stories