She catches up to me and eyes the gun. “In case you forgot, bullets don’t kill weepers.”
“No, but it’ll sure as hell slow them down enough for you to jump in with some sword action, right?”
“Where’d you even get that?” Gulshan’s eyes shift to my pistol. “We don’t have that type of gun in the weapons room.”
“It’s on loan,” I say, “from a... colleague.”
The heat in my cheeks and flutter in my stomach taunts me, as if my own body is calling me out. I remind it that Noah and I shared one kiss, one time. It was a mistake—the last thing I need right now is for my judgment to get clouded. I need to stay focused on survival.
“The bounty hunter.” Gulshan arches a brow at me. It’s not a question, but I nod anyway. “Not that it’s any of my business, since you can do whatever you want, but he seems like bad news.”
You have no idea, I want to tell her. Instead, I force a smile. “He’s not too bad. Not all the time, at least.”
“If you say so.” Gulshan falls silent for a moment. Then she says, her tone eluding to just how thrilled she is about it, “Okay. Come on, let’s find that weeper.”
I smile, and she gives me a tentative smile back.
After that, we search the tunnel for over hours, clearing traps and grates as we pass them. By the end, my clothing sticks to my aching muscles and my teeth chatter from the cold damp. I want nothing more than to go back to the hotel and take a hot bath.
Then, on our way back to the elevators, Gulshan comes to an abrupt stop.
I nearly collide with the girl’s back. I say her name, but she doesn’t respond. When I sidestep her and spot a weeper crouched over a grate a handful of yards away, my breath catches.
“That’s her?” I whisper.
“I think so?” Gulshan whispers back with obvious terror. “It’s hard to tell from here.”
Just as I’d hoped, it is the same weeper I saw not too long ago. The weeper is wearing torn jeans, stained with I don’t want to know what, and a baggy sweatshirt. Her hair is matted and even more has fallen out since the last time I saw her.
Her words still echo in my ears. There is no sanity in the dark. There is only chaos.
“I’m going to get a little closer,” I tell Gulshan under my breath.
Her pulse ricochets. “What exactly is your plan, Charlie? We can’t just strike up a casual conversation.”
“No?” I ask with raised brows, intending to do exactly that.
The weeper has finally spotted us, though, and Gulshan and I go silent as she starts to creep closer. She’s moving as if her shoes are not only falling apart but filled with rocks, weighing down her steps.
Instead of waiting for her, I walk closer, holding my hands out to show I’m not a threat. As much as my inner alarm bells are clanging, I don’t think she’ll hurt me—something about this weeper is different.
“Do you remember me?” I ask softly.
The weepers eye sockets shift between Gulshan and me. “Princess,” she hisses.
“No,” I tell her. “I’m not anymore.”
“Broken crown,” she hums in response, wrapping her arms around herself.
At these words, an idea blooms in my mind. Why would she know about my fallen status, this creature who can’t go out among the living? Because she probably sees things no one else does. Overhears conversations they believe to be private. She is alone, separate, forever in the shadows, which means she’s overlooked or dismissed when secrets are being made.
We’re alike, in that way.
“Listen, we need to know if you’ve seen this human,” I say impulsively. My fingers tremble as I pull out my phone and show her a picture of Leo. I took it at his shanty, on the night Noah and I found his creepy photo collage.
At the sight of his face, the weeper recoils with a sharp hiss.
“You recognize him?” I ask urgently, though her response makes it fairly obvious this isn’t the first time she’s seen Leo’s face. Almost a minute goes by before she finally nods. “Can you help us find him?”
“Charlie,” Gulshan hisses from behind me, “what the hell are you doing?”
I ignore her and refocus on the weeper. Death and decay roll off her in waves, so I hold my breath as best as I can. She nods again, making nervous excitement flutter in my stomach—maybe she knows where Leo is.
“Going once, going twice, sold!” the weeper says in a low, gravely voice, startling me.
“Sold?” I echo.
“Going once, going twice,” she says again, more urgently this time. Her broken teeth flash.
Realization flashes through me—the auction. She must’ve seen him being sold at the auction. How could that have happened? Noah would’ve reported to Bill that we think Leo is behind the weeper attacks…
I shake my head—that doesn’t matter. We need to know where Leo is. “Do you know who bought him?”
But she stares at me blankly now. A brownish substance starts to leak from her mouth, and I try not to cringe. Or think about what it could be. Just as I’m about to give up, the weeper whispers, “See a penny, pick it up. All day long, you’ll have good luck.”
Gulshan’s shaky voice ventures between us. “Charlie, please, let’s—”
“Sul,” the weeper cuts in, her eyes darting to Gulshan now. I don’t like the sudden interest I see there.
“Sul? Did you say Sul? Okay, you’re saying someone from Sul bought Leo. Can you tell me who?” I ask loudly, keeping her attention on me. The weeper bares what’s left of her teeth at me in a deliberate movement. “A vampire?”
Gulshan’s radio fills with static, then, and the weeper screeches before she runs. She’s still not moving quickly, but I don’t bother going after her—after that interaction, I’m not capable of killing her. Neither, I suspect, is Gulshan.
Without a word, the two of us turn around and finish the walk to the elevators.
After a quick shower, I change into the extra pair of clothes I’ve learned to keep in my locker. As I enter the warehouse, my stomach drops—the place is empty, which means the others didn’t wait for me. I suppose I shouldn’t expect them to anymore. It still stings, though. Just when I thought I had made progress…
I need to be focusing on the investigations, anyway. Success will mean I no longer have to live in the sewers. I can start a new life, maybe even move somewhere I’ve never been before.
Noah is waiting for me when I step outside the Public Works building. He leans against the brick exterior, halfway up the alley toward the street.
“Leo was sold,” I mutter as I reach him. “His new master is a vampire who lives in Sul. Hey, what’s the matter with you? I got us a lead.”
“The parties responsible for the bombing were caught,” Noah says. His voice is even. Detached.
My stomach drops. “How bad was it?”
“Alexander the Ingrate made a spectacle of their execution in the middle of Oldbel. Broadcasted it everywhere. A warning to others planning attacks of their own, I imagine. Before the last rebel died, though, he shouted to our benevolent king that it wasn’t the end.”
I swallow hard. More lives lost. More needless pain. “I should be doing something, right? Using my connections to the Travestys to put a stop to all this, somehow?”