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“Not without exposing who and what we are,” Storm replied.
“Social media is down,” Kazi said, checking his phone.
“Which one?” Felix asked.
Kazi looked up. “All of them.”
“The nyktelios are about to expose us.” Octavius stood, and the combined weight of the Brotherhood glares landed on him, as though waiting for a solution he didn’t have.
“Humans aren’t ready for this,” Aiko added, entering the room. “For us.”
“We need a plan.” Felix turned to Storm. “Nobody wants to mention the elephant who isn’t in the room, but where is Mikalis?”
“I don’t know,” Storm admitted, his gaze skipping to Octavius. “He had an altercation with Octavius, then killed Saint, and he… left.”
“He left?” Zaine asked, voice peaking.
“We can’t rely on him,” Octavius said. “Humans will fix their systems, and they’ll do it fast. We can’t get in the way of that. All we can do is coordinate against any rising nyks. That means looking for spikes in nyk activity, reports of violence, of… monsters.”
“In a world where its cities are about to experience riots and anarchy, nyks aren’t going to stand out.”
“We’ve been doing it for centuries,” Octavius said. “This is just… more of the same, but bigger.”
“A hundred nyk attacks at once, instead of one every few weeks.” Zaine shrugged. “We’re about to learn how many nyk nests we’ve missed.”
“Wehaveto do this,” Storm said. “We’re going to war.”
CHAPTER32
Saint
He thoughtabout walking off into the sunset… for three minutes. There was still room in his life for that, but he wasn’t going anywhere without Octavius. A sentiment Jay shared.
Traveling at speed all night, through the shadows, almost ruined him all over again, but Jay was there, willing and hot-blooded and healed, and so Saint drank from him, then set off again, reaching New York as dawn broke.
Petty theft ruined an early-morning commuter’s day, but Saint figured this was a matter of helping to stop the end of the world, so John Smith—or Jonathan Ridgeway—as his credit card read, was a hero. He just didn’t know it.
Saint found a back-alley motel/apartment building in a part of the city where its residents who wouldn’t ask too many questions, booked a room, left the card details on file, seeing as their computer booking system was experiencing a glitch, told Jay to rest up, then set about finding Octavius—in encroaching daylight. At least the weather was abysmal, keeping the sun tucked behind heavy cloud cover while also threatening rain. He preferred the rain to blazing sunshine.
The Brotherhood worked out of New York, and he knew they liked to be close enough to the center of a city to have their finger on its pulse. He just needed to narrow it down to a neighborhood.
He sauntered into a laundromat, stole a bundle of clothes from inside that happened to include a pair of dark pants and a fine white shirt, and after switching out his old clothes in a café stall, he wandered back outside into irritating daylight. Stealing a cheap pair of sunglasses from a tourist stall was his next minor crime. He needed them more than any tourist.
Wandering aimlessly wasn’t the best of plans, but he had a feeling he’d be able to sense Octavius, like he could sense Mikalis. They’d shared body and blood so often, and with heart and intensity, that they were bound, as one and the same being, like sire and offspring, but equals. He’d sense Octavius, he was sure of it.
He mentally reached out and tried to make the connection, making sure to probe carefully so he didn’t accidentally tag Mikalis. But again, Mikalis wasn’t there. A wave of chilling cold rolled over him, a thick sense of dread. It stuttered his pace, then passed.
Strange.
He tried again, reaching for Octavius, and felt a flicker of knowing and familiarity. Hewasclose. The early morning streets were quiet. A jogger passed by. A few cars. Was it always this quiet? Long shadows cast by the tall buildings helped shield him from the worst of the subdued UV rays. He passed by an alley opening, caught a glimpse of two lovers, and walked on.
Not lovers,his instincts warned.
He stopped and ambled back a few strides.
The scent of fresh blood lingered among other, stronger scents of rotten garbage and mildew.
A nyktelios attacking in public, in daylight? A few weeks ago, he’d have ignored it. Out of control nyks weren’t his problem. But then Octavius happened, and something about Octavius wanting to help people made Saint want to help them too.
