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Chapter One
Eloise
I’m about to leap over this desk and strangle the officer in front of me. I take a deep breath and remind myself why that is not a good idea. Getting myself thrown in jail for assaulting a police officer will not help me find Deidre. I give him my best smile, the one that’s gotten me out of too much trouble to count. If this doesn’t work, maybe I’ll start to cry. I’m feeling stressed enough that it won’t be hard.
“There really isn’t anyone I can talk to? I know the first forty-eight hours is the most vital and it’s already been almost twelve,” I say, a quiver naturally making my voice wobble at the end. Shit, now my eyes are burning too. Whether or not I want to cry, it seems like it’s happening.
He looks down at the form I already filled out and eyes me again. Officer Budd, according to his name patch, is clearly a man used to sitting behind a desk and not walking the streets, with the buttons of his uniform straining to keep it closed and his soft jaw and scraggly appearance. He’s a man that puts in the minimum effort and he’s who I have to convince to have the police start looking for my best friend.
His beady dull brown eyes turn lecherous and I repress a shudder, curling my toes as hard as I can since he’d see if I make a fist.
“You sure she isn’t sleeping off a bender?” he asks, shaking the report. “People go missing in The Barrows all the time. Sometimes they come back, sometimes they don’t. Up here we don’t send officers there looking for every lost lamb who wanted a taste of Rapture. We wouldn’t have enough officers left to defend the rest of the city.” He eyes me again and I brace myself, knowing exactly where this is going. “But maybe I can interview you privately and you’ll have new information that’ll prioritize your friend’s case. What do you say?”
I force a smile and I know he’s not convinced just as much as I know he doesn’t care. “I’ve written everything I know down on the report, Officer Budd,” I say between gritted teeth.
He shrugs and turns, putting the missing person’s report on the top of a stack in a “The Barrows” box. Officially, the city was named Oldgate but no one calls it that. There has to be at least fifty other forms in there. Jeez, when did they collect those? All the other boxes are empty, so clearly other officers or detectives come by and collect the reports from the city. Isn’t there at least a division of officers meant to handle The Barrows?
Deidre’s voice drifts to the front of my mind, one of the many times she paced back and forth in our tiny shared studio.
“The cops are all on his payroll down in The Barrows. They aren’t dirty, not like a lot of us would think. But they know they aren’t the real authority down there so they keep to the duties he’s approved.”
Right. That’s what she said when I asked why she didn’t ask the police for any public records in The Barrows. So there’s no chance they’d be able to help me either, especially since Deidre has been investigating Rapture.
“Thank you for your time,” I force out and Office Budd grunts, having dismissed me already when I turned down the so-called personal interview. I don’t wait for the scripted “we’ll call if we have further questions or find anything,” speech, not that I think he’ll give it.
I march out of the Newgate Police Department station, tugging my hood up over my head against the rain. It’s October and the autumn warmth is slowly being replaced with the constant rains as we get closer to winter. Already the drops are colder than they were a week ago.
I hurry over to the bus stop and squeeze into the small space between three other people and the weather shelter. The man closest to me, some sort of hoity-toity professional given his hat, long jacket, and briefcase, huffs at me and exaggerates stepping to the side, as if I’m shoved right up against him.
Asshole. I know I’m chubby but I’m not that big. I didn’t even touch him. Whatever. Just another day in a so-called fat girl’s life.
Deidre hates that I call myself fat, and if she wasn’t tall and statuesque like one of those Amazon warriors who eat men for breakfast, I’d probably take it better. But she’s been my best friend since middle school, sticking together through all the ups and downs life has thrown at us. We’re each other’s ride or die.
Which is why I’m going to do whatever it takes to find her.
A short bus ride later and I’m walking up the creaky stairs of our apartment building. Supposedly, it used to be a school for children—specifically children taken from supernaturals down in The Barrows. Kind of like how the colonizers took kids away from their indigenous families in an attempt to “civilize” them, only this happened only fifty years ago. The idea was that nurture could overcome nature and kids who could shift forms or weren’t technically human could be taught to ignore their instincts and very nature.
It was a horrible practice that thankfully was shut down within a year and the president lost the next election. Everyone who had participated in it, and the abuses that were performed, was charged and jailed. Some of the more powerful or wealthy politicians got off light, but it was better than nothing.
This building was remodeled into apartments and the kids were tossed back to The Barrows. Deidre and I can rant for hours at how terrible the injustice was, but people up top, as we call it, like to believe it’s all better now. Turning this building into apartments was just another way to hide the atrocity in plain sight.
It makes for really cheap rent, at least.
Deidre and I only have each other. I bounced between foster homes until my eighteenth birthday and Deidre only had her dad and gran until her dad died our senior year of high school. Together we made it through those years; college, shitty boyfriends, and more. Now she’s a junior investigative journalist for a national magazine and I’ve worked my ass off as a freelance graphic designer.
To say I have an issue with authority is kind of putting it lightly. It’s best for everyone involved if I don’t have a boss.
The bulky neighbor is coming out of his door, his hood pulled up so his face is in the shadows like always. We’ve never spoken, just did head bobs of acknowledgment as we move past each other in the hall. I’m pretty sure he’s a half-breed. Orc or something. A lot of the bigger half-breeds have found their way up out of The Barrows through military service, but they still get treated pretty crappy.
Unlocking the door, I slip inside before quickly closing the door and turning the deadbolt and putting the chain on. Not like it’d stop anyone like my neighbor from getting in but there’s comfort in lies we tell ourselves.
I shed my raincoat, my green tee and leggings dry enough to stay in as I start to pace. Pacing is Deidre’s thing, but she’s not here.
“Why the hell couldn’t you wait for me?” I ask aloud as I turn my gaze out the window. It’s just after three in the afternoon. The police are useless, and time is ticking. Deidre could already be dead, I’m not stupid. But I can’t sit back and let the rusty cogs of justice attempt to turn.
Deidre was meeting a supposed informant about the spread of Rapture—the euphoric drug created and controlled by the powerful creatures in The Barrows. It let humans have a taste of magic and even though it was illegal, the city officials didn’t touch it.
It’s always been controlled by the leader of the Nightshades. A vampire so powerful that he’s whispered about as if speaking his name will summon him. Even the council members avoid confronting him if they can. Topside, we may have technology to outfit our military, but most of us realize that if The Barrows want to, they can overpower us. There have been a couple uprising attempts, but each time they were squashed with the help ofhim. He controls The Barrows, at least the vampires.
