Trees arched overhead, and I could tell that the river was close by the winding road and the occasional glimpses of silver water. I was up front with Edden, and Ivy was in the backseat with Ford. That she wanted to come had surprised me, until I realized her earlier words had been meant to quash her hope that Kisten might still be alive. Or undead. Or something.
Jenks was with her, working hard to keep her distracted and calm. It wasn’t working, if her black eyes and Ford’s growing nervousness were any indication. Putting them together might not have been a good idea, but I didn’t want to sit next to him either.
“There!” I exclaimed, pointing to the outline of an abandoned brick building peeking from behind huge, ancient trees. It had to be the place. We hadn’t seen anything but empty lots framed by large trees for half a mile. I tried to quell my nervousness even as I searched my feelings for having been here before. Nothing looked familiar. The hot morning sun glinted on the leaves and the river as we slowed and pulled into the weed-choked gravel drive. My heart gave a painful thud when I saw Kisten’s boat.
“That’s it,” I said, fumbling for the door even before the car stopped. “That’s the Solaris.” Jenks left Ivy, hovering as I undid my belt.
“Rachel, wait.” It was Edden, and I scowled when he hit the button and the lock engaged. The Crown Victoria rocked to a halt, and he put it in park. Ivy tried her door, but it was a cop car and wouldn’t open from the inside even if Edden hadn’t locked it. “I mean it,” he said as a stuffy silence filled the car, broken by the agitated hum of Jenks’s wings. “You’re going to stay in the car until backup gets here. There could be anyone in that building.”
Jenks snickered and darted under the dash to flip Edden off from the other side of the windshield. I glanced at the two-way radio and the chatter coming from it. It sounded as if the nearest person was five minutes away. “If it’s undead vampires you’re worried about, they won’t be coming out for a suntan,” I said as I manually unlocked the door and lurched out. “And if it’s anyone else, I’m going to kick their ass.”
Ivy scooted into Ford’s space, and while the man sat wide-eyed and scrunched in the corner, she kicked the door. The lock snapped, and she slid out, unruffled and moving with the eerie grace of those that belong to the night. Jenks was gone, and we followed him to the boat with a grim determination. We were halfway there when Edden caught up.
“Rachel, stop.”
Ivy’s expression was awful, and after a single glance that showed the depth of her fear, she continued without me.
“Get your hand off me,” I exclaimed, voice loud with misplaced anger as I yanked away from his grip. “I’m a professional, not some distraught girlfriend.” Well, I was that too, but I knew how to act at a crime scene. “You never would have found him if not for me. He might need my help, or are you admitting you manipulated me, knowing he was dead already?”
Edden’s face creased up in the bright light, and it made him look old. Behind him Ford sat leaning against the front of the car. I wondered what his range for reading emotions was. I hoped it was less than the twenty feet that separated us now.
“If he’s dead…” Edden said.
“I can handle myself!” I shouted, the fear that he was right making me reckless. “I’m going in there! It’s not a crime scene until we know there’s a crime, so get a grip!”
Ivy had reached the boat and swung up the four-foot height to the deck in an enviable motion. I jogged to catch up, my swollen eye hurting from under the complexion charm and my foot throbbing. “Kisten?” I shouted, hoping for his voice. “Kisten, you here?”
From the corner of my sight, Ford remained leaning against the car, his head bowed.
Feeling awkward, I levered myself up onto the deck. Different muscles protested, and I got from my knees to my feet, tossing my hair out of my eyes. Ivy was already below the deck. Jenks still hadn’t shown, and I didn’t know if that was good or bad. I shivered at the dampness of the dew-wet deck, trying to remember being here. Nothing. Nothing at all.
The boat hardly moved with my weight, and I half slid to the cockpit door, grasping for handholds. “Ivy?” I called as I went belowdecks, fear winding between my soul and reason when she didn’t answer. The silence ate away at my hope like bitter acid, drop by drop, breath by breath. If Kisten was conscious, he would have answered. If he was undead, he would be dead from the sun unless he had made it to the warehouse. Either option was bad.
It was quiet as I passed through the kitchen, only the sounds of my heartbeat and a plane high overhead. Ivy would have said something if she’d found him. The smear of blood on the high window looking out over the far shore shook me. A handprint.