Nathaniel turned. “I should have…I should have done more. I let her get out of control, but he wouldn’t have hurt her. I know this.”
Luke’s pale eyes snapped fire. “Are you serious? Do I need to remind you of what he did to Micah?”
Nathaniel stared at the splotch of blood far too high on the wall for Lily to reach. “You don’t need to remind me, Luke.” His eyes scanned the room. “Where Julian would have attacked any of us, he would not do so with Lily.”
“Damn you!” Luke exploded, full of rage and exasperation. “She will end up just like Anna! Is that what it will take? Look at this! There was clearly a fight here. There is blood, part of her goddamned clothes is in my hand!”
Michael’s eyes fell to the cloth Luke clenched. His stomach seized. “We need to find Lily. Now!”
Nathaniel faced both Nephilim. For the first time, Michael saw him exhibit some sort of emotion. Always calm and serene, Michael hadn’t thought Nathaniel felt anything. He couldn’t have been more wrong. Anger, waves and waves of it, radiated off him. A near unholy light filled his eyes, and he suddenly looked very dangerous.
“Call Danyal and every Nephilim available. Tear this city apart if you need to.”
“This is on you, Nathaniel.” Luke gritted out, backing away. “You could have stopped this at any time, but you didn’t. This is on you. Just like what happened with Anna is on you!”
Nathaniel briefly closed his eyes. “This I know.”
Rage—pure unbridled hatred—flickered over Luke’s face a second before he charged Nathaniel. Instinct kicked in, propelling Michael to place himself between the two. “Stop this!” he ordered. “What the f**k is this going to solve? Who gives a f**k about who’s to blame right now? This isn’t important!”
Luke shoved himself away, his hands clenched at his side. There was a moment when Michael thought Luke wouldn’t back down. The hatred that rolled off him was too potent to walk away from, but somehow he pulled it in. “This is over,” said Luke, tone eerily final.
“Luke…” Nathaniel stared at him, his eyes widening slightly. “No…”
He shook his head before turning, then disappeared out the balcony doors. Michael followed his movements, stunned. “What does he mean? What is he talking about?”
“We need to go back to the Sanctuary.” Nathaniel was already walking toward the door.
“What? We need to find Lily!”
Nathaniel turned on him. “We will, but first we need to go back to the Sanctuary. This isn’t up for discussion, Michael. I don’t expect you to understand, but I need you to listen to me and do exactly as I tell you.”
There was something in his tone that gave Michael pause. “What’s…going on?”
“Do you have the keys to the Porsche?” asked Nathaniel, walking out the door.
“Yes.” Michael followed him. He was missing something huge. He knew it.
Nathaniel nodded. “I need you to get us back to the Sanctuary as quickly as possible.”
Together they raced down the stairs and, once inside the Cayenne, Nathaniel pulled out his cell. Like Luke had done before, he tried reaching Lily—to no avail.
Michael gripped the steering wheel. “What is going on?”
Nathaniel held up his finger while he pressed another number on the phone. “Adrian, meet me back at the Sanctuary. We have a…problem.” He hung up the phone, his hand clenching the slim model. “Michael, when we get back to the Sanctuary, I need you to check Lily’s room. She may have gone back there.”
He switched lanes, narrowly avoiding a taxi as he sped through the streets. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
“It’s about Anna,” said Nathaniel as if it made perfect sense. “It’s always been about Anna.”
Once they arrived at the Sanctuary, Nathaniel left him with orders to check Lily’s room, before disappearing with Adrian, and strict orders to not leave the building.
Michael had never been more frustrated in his life. Lily was out there somewhere, possibly hurt or worse, and he was expected to just chill. When he entered Lily’s room, he quickly discovered why no one had been able to reach her. Her cell phone lay next to her keys, the message light blinking rapidly. Sighing, he grabbed the phone and slipped it into the pocket of his pants.
There was no f**king way he was going to stand around. Whenever he closed his eyes, he saw Micah, and then Lily replaced Micah. Bloodied and beaten, lying dead somewhere out in the city. Screw this.
Nathaniel’s orders be damned.
His mind made up, he left Lily’s room. His first stop was the weapons’ room. He quickly grabbed two vicious blades and leg straps and hooked them to his thighs. As he straightened, he noticed a large rack mounted to the wall. Various keys hung there, labeled with what they belonged to. He approached the rack, brows raised as he read some of the labels. It was like a bike enthusiast’s wet dream—Michael’s wet dream. They had everything: Hondas, Harleys, Indians, and various crotch rockets, but it was the Hayabusa GSX that caught his eye.
“Holy shit,” he murmured.
It was one of the fastest bikes, accelerating to unimaginable speeds. The bike was made for all the adrenaline junkies in the world.
He didn’t think twice about grabbing those keys before heading to the parking garage in the back where they kept the fleet of vehicles. It had to be the only logical place where the bikes were kept.
He was right. On the bottom level, behind a steel cage, were several dozen bikes under lock and key. Staring at the key for a moment, he then grabbed one of the knives. It cut through the mesh wire like nothing, and he could only imagine what it did to flesh as he kicked open the gate. The platinum motorcycle was like a beacon. There was a moment of appreciation as he approached the bike, knowing he would probably never have the luxury of riding this thing again.
This was probably going to get him kicked out of the Sanctuary.
“Hey.”
Spinning around, he saw Luke. Immediately, Michael thought the worst—and maybe the best. “Did you find Lily?”
“No.” He grabbed a helmet off the rack. “But I think I know where she would go. You game?”
“Let’s do this.” Michael straddled the bike, pausing before he slid the helmet on. “Lead the way.”
“Trust me,” Luke said. “We’ll find her.”
…
Lily couldn’t breathe as she barreled through the crowded sidewalk. Where in the hell were all these people coming from? They seemed to be closing in on her, and though the sun had already set, the air was thick with heat and humidity.
Picking up her pace, she balled her hands into fists, ignoring the looks of people she bumped into or cut off. It didn’t matter that she suspected Micah. He hadn’t deserved that. No one deserved that.
Not Julian. Her mind rebelled at the idea. He couldn’t have done this. Ripped the Nephilim to bloody shreds, and for what? But she had shared with him her suspicions. And he even offered to take care of him. God, there was a good chance she was going to vomit on someone.
She turned the corner, narrowly avoiding a couple holding hands. Her heart clenched so tightly she stumbled.
Micah would most likely die, and she…she was in love with a killer, a monster.
She was searching for a distraction—trouble really. Anything to ease the twisting her heart did every so many minutes, but like the days before, there were no minions or deadheads to be found. It had been hours since she left her apartment, and…it was really starting to piss her off.
Anger… Yes, anger was better than the swamping grief that waited. Her step faltered, and she stopped on the footbridge. The Anacostia River rushed below, dark and uninviting. She wanted to sit down—right there—and sob. She wanted to scream, wanted to crawl into a hole somewhere.
And…damn it, she wanted Julian. Wanted to find him, beat the living shit out of him for doing this to her, and she wanted…to pretend what he did never happened.
Lily pushed away from the ledge, grinding her teeth. She started forward, breathing slowly. She was a hunter before Julian, and she would be a damn fine hunter after him.
“Damn it!” she hissed. “Can I not find one more thing to kill?”
A teenage street thug came around the corner, but seeing the deadly look on her face, he backed away. She would have laughed, but then she probably would have cried. It was really turning out to be a terrible night.
At least you aren’t sliced and diced like Micah, whispered that evil little voice that wouldn’t shut the f**k up. Speaking of Micah, Lily realized they’d probably never know why he had betrayed them.
It had to be Micah. Maybe Julian did it out of some sick way of helping clear her name. However, that would be pretty useless considering the fact Micah wouldn’t be confessing to anything or anyone anytime soon.
She knew it was crass to think of Micah like that, especially after what was done to him. And why was she in Anacostia? She hated this area—hated the crime, the hopelessness, and the fishy smell the river gave off every time a rainstorm came through.
And then she felt it—a minion.
Cracking her knuckles, she backed up a couple of feet. Empty, dilapidated row houses lined the street. Skeletons of their former glory, they were now inhabited by rats and the homeless.
But the minion wasn’t there.
Lily almost grinned when she realized where it was—the old reform school they had brought Michael to. Taking off down the block, she hopped the fence and headed around the building. The sensation grew, telling her she was on the right trail.
Entering through the busted-out window, she quietly crept through the abandoned classroom and hall. The doors at the end of the hall were open. Releasing her blades, she edged along the wall.
The balcony above the gymnasium was empty. Quickly, she scanned the upper level and then peered over the rusted railing. Empty.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” she whispered, gazing up at the ceiling.
“I’m right here.”
The voice sent shivers down Lily’s spine. She recognized it, knew it to be a voice she should never hear again. She turned around, feeling her heart twist. “William?”
Chapter Twenty-nine
“Are you shitting me?” Michael peeled off the helmet, staring at the reform school. Jesus, he had hoped he’d never come back to this place. “She would go here?”
Luke tucked the helmet under his arm as he climbed off his bike, looking around with a frown. “We’re gonna have to ditch the bikes, and there’s a good chance we may never see them again.”
Michael soured at that. “No…I like this bike. I want to keep it.”
“We’ll get you another one.”
He sure hoped so. “Why would she come here?”
Luke pitched the helmet into a bush. “I just know Lily.”
Michael looked over the fence. Ice flooded his veins. He had a bad feeling—a real bad feeling about this. He turned to Luke, but he’d already jumped the fence and stood on the other side, waiting.