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“Thank you for saving me, I mean...” she added, perhaps a little too breathlessly. “Even though it cost you your job. And for the gun,” she said quickly. “Thank you.”
He paused then, shaking his head, though he didn’t look at her. “I didn’t do it for you.”
She blinked. His response caught her off-guard. “For who then?”
“For myself,” he said. “And anyone who’s ever been powerless.”
A lump formed in Frankie’s throat. She wasn’t certain what to say. Her hand fell to the door handle, but before she even knew what she was doing, she turned toward him. “So, what’s your plan, exactly?”
He finally turned to her, one dark brow lifted. “What’s it to you?”
She shrugged. “Humor me.”
He blew out a long breath and rubbed at the back of his neck. “Gather as many weapons as I can and get the hell outta Dodge.”
“And then?”
“And then I run. Or else I’m a dead man.”
“What about the killer? What about your job? Clearing your name? Vindication?” She gaped at him. “You can’t tell me that none of that matters.”
He smirked a little. “Why do you care, Princess?”
“Like I said, humor me.”
He sighed again. “It ceased to be my problem the moment I fired at Chet. Even if I wanted, I can’t do anything about it now.”
“So that’s it?” She couldn’t hide her disappointment. “You’re going to let the killer run loose? Don’t tell me all that cryptic communication with the vampire hunter means there’s not a deeper problem going on with the E.U. I’m smart enough to read the subtext.”
“And what do you expect me to do about it, sweetheart? I’m persona non-grata now. You got a better plan?”
“As a matter of fact, I do.” She lifted her chin defiantly. “But this time, you’re going to have to come with me.”
7
“What are we doing here?” Jace’s gruff voice carried over the winter wind.
It was a few hours until dawn and they stood outside on the darkened sidewalk, the din of the city cutting through the morning quiet. Nearby the sound of an early garbage pickup whirred its electric gears, and the far-off screech of a distant firetruck followed. The air was rent with sewer and the dampness of melted snow. Not surprising. This side of Monroe Street, everything wreaked with the stench of the city.
Fumbling with the lock for a moment, Frankie jiggled the key until finally the door came unstuck. Stepping inside, she checked down the block for anyone watching them, though they’d already parked the Chevelle and traveled on foot for several blocks. Assured the coast was clear, she ushered Jace in, not bothering to flick on the single working light overhead. The orange glow of the streetlamps outside would stream in through the windows.
That would have be enough. For now.
Once the door was closed and locked again, she gestured to the abandoned dance studio. “You needed a place to hide out. This is it.”
Dust and silence greeted them. One full wall lined with floor-length mirrors. The adjacent wall sported a colorful array of street tags and graffiti she’d never found the time to paint over. Frankie exhaled and watched her breath swirl through the chilled air. It was nearly as cold as it was outside, and Rochester had already dropped to well below freezing, but she hadn’t paid to turn on the heat.
Jace stepped further into the open room, his large frame instantly dwarfing the height of the aging, abandoned barre. Behind him, the concrete and brick jungle that was downtown loomed, barely visible overtop the curling paper which covered the business windows. Through the crack in the newspaper, she could see snow flurries had started to fall, looking like a sky speckled with ash through the orange glow. On the city streets, the snow would become gray slush within a handful of minutes, if it even stuck at all.
A tense moment passed, neither of them saying anything, before finally Frankie cleared her throat. “What? You can’t tell me this is any worse than your dingy excuse of an apartment? And there’s no way they can trace this place to you.” She cast the key on top of an abandoned box in the corner.
Amidst the pressing silence it made an audiblethunkagainst the cardboard.
She always forgot how quiet it was whenever she came to hide out here.
Even alongside the sounds of the city, this place was a kind of sanctuary.
“Lying low wasn’t the plan,” Jace grumbled in answer.
