Roaring Dawn: Macey Book 3 (The Gardella Vampire Hunters 10)(48)

“Savina was calling for me?” he said, beginning to add a variety of objects—some innocent-looking, some clearly dangerous—in various place on his person. “Why would she be calling for me in particular?”

“I don’t know. But she knew she wasn’t talking to you—that was clear. I think she was supposed to be giving you a message, but the person with her didn’t know someone else answered the phone. Which means the message wasn’t really specifically for you. It was for—”

“I’m going,” he said flatly. “So we might as well be making a plan together and take advantage of the fact that we know more than the person on the other end of the phone line.”

Macey hesitated, but then she nodded. She had to put her personal feelings aside—and anyway, he was right. He’d already proven how “dauntless” he was.

“Savina said to come alone,” Macey warned.

Grady began to pack a large duffel bag. “There are ways around that, lass. Where did you say this place was?”

She tried to ignore the little offbeat thump of her heart when he called her “lass,” and told him the address. He called everyone “lass.” Even Savina.

“I know the place.” He smiled. It was a grim one, steely and yet satisfied. “Just give me a minute while I check something.” He went over to the massive wall map of Chicago that hung on the wall and stared at it for a few minutes, tracing streets with his fingers, while Macey wrote a note to Max and Chas.

When he was finished, Grady came over and scrawled a few sentences at the bottom of her note—“Telling them exactly where to find us”—and then she did something she never thought she’d do again: she drove off with Grady in his car.



+ + +

“This isn’t the address she gave,” Macey said when Grady parked.

In fact, the place they’d stopped was nowhere near the address Savina had given them. They were at a train yard that was long abandoned. Rusted-out locomotives and their cars sat unused on overgrown railways. A few decrepit buildings looked just as worse for wear. As Macey looked around, she saw two separate figures—tramps?—scuttling into the shadows.

Her panic was growing. It was past seven thirty, and they weren’t anywhere near the place. She had to have time to get in, figure out what was going on…who even knew whether Flora would keep to the timeframe Savina had given. They didn’t have time to spare.

“I know. But they’ll be watching the place, won’t they now? They’ll be making sure I come alone. We need to get you secretly inside before I make an appearance.”

“Right.”

That was the plan they’d agreed upon—well, that he’d insisted upon, and she hadn’t been able to argue him out of because it made sense. Grady would go in as if he’d received the message. But in the meantime, Macey would sneak in a different way and then… Well, they’d go from there. She’d find a way to take care of Flora once she saw what the woman had planned.

“But we’re more than six blocks away, and on the other side of the street.” She looked around unhappily.

Grady grinned as he yanked on the parking brake, and Macey’s heart did that sweet little ka-thump. For that instant, she saw the old Grady—the one who looked at her with laughing eyes. The one who knew her and loved her.

Then the memory was gone—for the grin wasn’t directed at her. It was for the adventure about to come.

“When you’re wanting to get into a building unnoticed,” he said coolly, “you have to look at it very differently than your average bloke. Even the architects who design the buildings…they don’t look at it the same way.”

“All right.” She climbed out of the car and met him on the other side. “So…we’re approaching on foot, and going to sneak in somehow through a rear window?”

“No.” He pointed to an old train tunnel as he slung a heavy bag over his shoulder. “We go in there.”

“Ah.” She was beginning to see. “So we follow that underground…to where? There aren’t any train lines that run toward Delancey Street.”

He was already walking across the street toward the building, his long legs leaving her behind. “You’re right about that. But there’s an underground creek that cuts across the block next to it. You see, the first rule of housebreaking is—you’re not using doors or windows. That’s for bloody pansies. And a sure way to find yourself apprehended.”

His brogue had suddenly appeared, and he wore a crafty, intense expression Macey had never seen before. It was almost as if he’d become a different person, or taken on a different personality.

“Housebreaking? So you have some experience with that, do you?” she asked, intrigued in spite of herself as she followed him into the musty old building.

“Grew up making m’way into any number of fancy buildings that preferred to keep out the likes o’me.”

He had a flashlight and turned it on to illuminate their way, and she saw a variety of creatures—from rats to spiders to a man dressed in ragged clothes—slinking into the darkness.

To her surprise, Grady stopped and spoke to the man in ragged clothing. She saw their hands meet briefly as if Grady had handed him something, and she tried hard not to chafe at the delay.

“Savina is in danger,” she reminded him. “We don’t have any time to waste.”

“I’m not about wasting time,” he told her, continuing on his way down a ramp that led below the ground. “He’s doing me a favor. And we’ve got more than fifty-five minutes. Plenty of time.”

Macey couldn’t argue with that, and she followed him along at a good clip. She had no difficulty keeping up with him, for she was wearing low-heeled shoes, dark trousers, and a dark sweater. Tellingly, he didn’t wait for her or even offer to help her along by taking her arm. He didn’t speak unnecessarily, or even look at her other than impersonally when he had something to say.

True to his word, they followed the train tunnel only a few yards in before it became shorter and narrower.

“I never would have known this existed,” she said when he led her deeper into the darkness where the passage became a more natural tunnel, with dirt ceiling and walls instead of brick.

“I wasn’t completely certain until now,” he admitted, ducking a little. The contents in the bag over his shoulder made soft clinking and clanging noises as he shifted. “But the signs were there. You ever see a place on the street that always stays misty for longer than the areas around it, especially when there’s been no rain? It’s because there’s a creek running beneath it. If you’re knowing where the creeks and sewers are under a city, you’re already halfway into any building you want to be into.”

Fascinating. Macey filed that bit of information away into the back of her mind. Venators tended to rely on brute strength, speed, and exemplary fighting skills—not to mention mundane things such as doors and windows—to make their way into a place with undead.

They made their way along the creek quickly and efficiently, with both of them having to duck often, as well as brush away the occasional dangling root. Unlike sewers, or even underground railway tunnels, this passage smelled pleasant—like moist earth and vegetation. There were occasional twists and turns of the creek, and therefore of their route, due to man-made obstructions like the brick walls of random building foundations.

It wasn’t long before Grady paused, checked his compass (which had appeared from the bag over his shoulder), and grunted something that sounded like “Here.”

He’d stopped at a grimy, moss-covered wall and slung the bag from his back. Moments later, he’d withdrawn what looked like a stick of dynamite.

“Is that what I think it is?” Macey asked.

“If you’re thinking it’s an explosive, you’d be correct. Now step back around that corner if you want to keep those pretty legs of yours attached to the rest of you.” The way he spoke wasn’t a compliment; it was grim and flat and cold. Still underscored with loathing and rage.

She did as he told her, and after a minute or two, he rushed back to join her, hustling her even further backward through the tunnel. She heard him counting under his breath, and at ten!, he pushed her up against the wall and huddled around her. Macey didn’t have time to appreciate or regret the familiar, painful feel of Grady’s solid body around hers, for—

Boom!

The explosion wasn’t as loud as she’d feared, but it sent a cloud of dust rolling through the tunnel.

“Let’s go.” He released her and darted back through, holding a sleeve over his nose and mouth.

Macey followed and discovered he had indeed blown a hole into the brick wall.

“So this is the building they’re in?” she asked. “You don’t think they might have heard the explosion and been warned?”

He shook his head pityingly in the dim light. “Two doors down, we are. And who’s going to think twice about a muffled boom in Chicago? There’s gunfire and cars backfiring all the time.”

“So now what?” Macey was beginning to get nervous about the amount of time that had passed, but when she checked her timepiece, she saw it had been less than an hour since they left Grady’s house.