Dark Star (30 page)

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said—not aloud but somehow directly to me; not in my ears but in my skin, in my blood. “This isn’t the place for you.”

Iris wasn’t here, I realized. He’d sent her somewhere else. She was—

Waiting.

Somewhere.

Images flashed into me: Iris turned away, the dark fall of her hair. Snow at her feet. A tall building, empty and silent. City lights.

I knew the building. Harlow Tower. It stood in downtown Minneapolis, near the IDS Center. I knew its stark shape in the skyline, its huge revolving doors and the thick gold lettering that gleamed down its front. But I knew it for another reason, as well.

I’d seen it the way my mother had, standing at its edge before toppling over. It was where she’d defeated Verrick.

And now Iris was there.

For a moment, I caught the sound of her voice, frantic, frightened.

Audrey. I need you.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Tigue repeated.

I shuddered, unable to break the contact. “Mom!” I cried, while I still could. “It’s Iris! She isn’t the Remnant. She’s with him! She’s the one who’s been helping him!”

Sound exploded all around me.

Time stopped. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak, or breathe, or even think. My eyes were locked with Tigue’s and I watched in horror as his hands rose into the air. The Harrowers beside him shifted, and something unseen hurtled out of the darkness toward me.

In the same instant, just out of my vision, I felt Leon turn. I heard the air around us disrupted by his motion.

And then he was in front of me, his arms circling me, my face pressed to his shoulder. His body took the blast meant for me. I felt it hit him, shaking through both of us; his grip on me tightened and then weakened and he slid from me, collapsing, dragging us down to the snow.

A scream tore from my throat as I saw red bloom around us.

“Leon!” I cried, again and again, struggling to make him move. My lungs felt raw and my hands at his back were sticky with blood. The glow at his fingertips faded; the light under his skin died out.

I looked up. Tigue had moved closer.

“Audrey, don’t move!”

I turned toward my mother’s voice. She ran to us, crouching and stretching one hand out before her, the colors at her wrists burning and spinning. There was a sudden sizzle, a sort of hiss, and then a layer of light, thin and clear, formed around us. She was shielding us.

“Iris is helping him!” I cried. “She’s his accomplice. She can share powers—she can amplify them.”

Not just Tigue’s powers, I realized. The Remnant’s as well. Once they located the Remnant, Iris would be able to open the way Beneath anywhere, as Elspeth had said.

Or everywhere.

Mom’s eyes met mine. My words hung between us, and I saw my own reaction repeated in her: it was unthinkable. Her face was pale, and the color that stirred at her throat made her seem ethereal, more Morning Star than mother. But she nodded, and I felt an understanding grow between us, a thread in the darkness.

Without turning, her voice clear and resolute, she said, “Detective, I need you to get my daughter out of here. I’ll cover you.”

My gaze jerked toward Mickey. His gun was still drawn, and I saw him nod as he crept toward us. “No!” I cried, clutching Leon against me. I couldn’t leave, not when he lay unconscious, bleeding, his breath little gusts against me. His body was warm, and I felt his pulse, but he hadn’t stirred.

My mother spoke again, her voice cutting through my haze of fear. “Leon’s going to be fine, I promise you. He’s strong. The best thing you can do for him is get yourself to safety. Audrey—look at me. Audrey, I need you to trust me.”

Lifting my eyes to hers, I felt my panic loosen its grip. I took in a shaky breath and nodded. I moved backward, away from Leon, even as I felt Mickey reach for my hand. His voice was low in my ear.

“We gotta go.”

I nodded jerkily, letting him help me to my feet. Without speaking, we turned in the snow and ran.

***

Detective Wyle hadn’t brought his usual car.

I hadn’t figured him for a pickup truck kind of guy, but something about the vehicle told me it wasn’t his, anyway. The interior smelled like leather and smoke and greasy fast food, and the voice that crackled through the radio was so strained and tinny it sounded like someone dying.

“No wisecracks, kid. And buckle up.”

I wasn’t exactly in the mood for wisecracks.

No demons attacked us as we fled across the snow, but I knew I’d feel safer once we were in motion. All around us, the night seemed to listen. I held my breath as Mickey shifted into gear and flicked on the headlights, twin beams slicing through the darkness. I watched his hands on the steering wheel. There was a slight tremble in his fingers. No matter what he might have guessed about my mother, nothing could have prepared him for what he’d seen tonight.

“I guess you know, then,” I said. “About my mother.” And demons. And the Kin, probably. Even if he didn’t know everything now, he was smart. He’d eventually piece it together.

“She’s Morning Star,” he said. His voice was husky.

“She’s more than that.”

He didn’t hesitate. “I know.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Right now, I’m getting us out of here. We’ll wait at your house.” He pushed down on the gas.

“No,” I said. I wasn’t going home. I wasn’t sitting still. I couldn’t. Leon’s blood was drying on my hands and clothes. Across the length of the Cities, battles were being fought, Guardians and demons, my mother and Tigue—and somewhere, Iris stood waiting.

“No?” Mickey echoed. “Wasn’t really expecting an argument, here.”

“We’re going to Harlow Tower,” I said. “I have to find my cousin.”

Audrey, I heard Iris say. I need you.

Elspeth’s plea came back to me: We have to help her. She doesn’t want to be this way.

And I realized I knew something Iris did not.

That familiar alarm woke inside me, my frequencies screaming. Memories flashed before me: Rain and tires and the bend of wind around a car, cold eyes watching. Eyes I recognized.

I turned toward the window, trailing my fingers along the glass. The streets were quiet and still, but my Knowing was loud within me. I saw Iris atop the tower, the metal gleam of the triple knot at her throat. Snow swirled about her, blown up by the wind, melting in her hair, along her skin. Her eyes were closed.

I could do this, I told myself. Iris would listen to me. We’d stood together in the cold of Beneath and I’d seen into her history, the hidden places where her grief still slept. She could break free of this. She just needed someone to guide her.

And there was a reason my Knowing had grown so clear and insistent. Out there, in the dark of the Cities, Iris was seeking me. Calling to me.

She wanted me to find her.

Harlow Tower was dark when we arrived.

“I thought they usually left lights on,” I said, as we approached the front of the building. The sidewalks had been swept clean of snow and dusted with sand, but I picked my way carefully across the cement, my heart hammering against my ribs.

“I still think this is a stupid idea,” Detective Wyle mumbled. “When some nut job summons you to a remote location in the middle of the night, the smart decision is not to go.”

Stupid wasn’t the first word he’d used. I hadn’t wanted to tell him about Iris, but he wouldn’t agree to drive me without an explanation—and he hadn’t been willing to let me go alone. It was an echo of everything I’d felt from him before: a genuine sort of goodness, a desire to help. But I remembered, also, the shadow I’d seen at his back when I’d given him his reading. That danger felt nearer now, close, creeping upon him. The sense grew stronger with each step we took toward the building. A darkness looming. Before I faced Iris, I was going to have to get rid of him.

We walked up to the glass. The revolving doors would be locked, I knew, but if Iris was there, one of the doors had to be open. I moved to the side door and reached for the handle. Mickey stopped me.

“Hold up,” he said, easing the door open. “Let’s leave the breaking and entering to me.”

He stepped in first, cautiously, and I followed. My eyes went to the staircase that led to the skyway, and then to the elevators. The guard at the front desk lay unconscious in his chair. He didn’t wake when we approached, but his breathing sounded steady.

Mickey peered over the edge of the desk. “She must’ve disabled the alarms,” he mused.

“She left the cameras,” I said, shifting uncomfortably as I stared into the round black eye of the surveillance equipment.

“She didn’t want company, but apparently doesn’t care who sees her. This is your cousin, you said?”

“Someone will take care of it,” I murmured, certain suddenly that I was correct. The Guardians must be accustomed to taking care of things like this. My mother couldn’t have gone unknown as long as she had without using a few tricks.

Mickey grunted. “Right. You know where we’re supposed to go next?”

I hesitated, shoving my hands in my pockets. That we was a problem.

“The roof,” I said after a moment. “But just me. You need to stay here.”

“Yeah, that’s gonna happen.”

I drew in a steadying breath and took a step toward him. “Detective Wyle,” I said, meeting his eyes. He looked older now than when I’d first seen him. Or maybe it was simply that his expression was more severe, and my own abrupt understanding that his rugged-tortured-soul act wasn’t really an act at all. He’d seen his share of darkness, too, even if it hadn’t come in the shape of demons. Maybe it was worse for him, seeing what humans did to humans.

But I still couldn’t let him come with me. He had to stay behind, for his own safety.

“My mother sent you away to save your life,” I said. “Not just to protect me. Tigue would never have let you live.”

He didn’t flinch. He didn’t speak, either, though a muscle in his jaw tensed.

I didn’t have time to argue with him. I took an unsteady breath, feeling that sharp pang of Knowing, the truth of what I was about to say. “If you go up there with me, you’ll die.”

My eyes flicked to his. I didn’t force my Knowing toward him—the insistent, undeniable certainty of what I felt. I just waited, and watched his eyes, and hoped that somehow he would understand.

“And what about you?” he asked.

“She doesn’t want me dead,” I said. “She wants something else.”

I didn’t know what it was, but I felt the strength of her seeking. Urgent, desperate, willing me to her.

He stepped back, running his hand through his hair. “I can’t claim to understand all of this, but I believe you.”

I didn’t give him a chance to change his mind. Whirling, I ran for the elevators.

***

Iris had left everything unlocked. My way to her was unbarred.

A strange sort of calm came over me as I slid the door open and stepped out onto the roof. The wind was icy and sharp against my face, stinging my eyes. But I wasn’t afraid. Not even when I saw Iris, standing at the far end, in the exact place my mother and Verrick had fallen.

“You got my message,” she said as I moved forward. “I’m glad you came.”

“You’ve been calling to me. You weren’t expecting me?”

“Hoping, let’s say.”

My shoes were cold and wet, shifting through the snow. I walked slowly, careful not to slip or lose my balance. The wind grew, slicing across my cheeks.

“I came to talk to you,” I said, peering across the darkness to where she stood. I couldn’t see her clearly. She was half-turned, her body concealing something. “Iris, you should stop this. We should just go home.”

Then she moved, and my heart fell into my stomach.

Beside her, at her feet, a body lay crumpled. Even from this distance, I knew who he was. I knew that dark hair, the curve of his shoulder, even the way he kept his arms tightly against him.

She had Gideon.

Why did she have Gideon?

I rushed forward, intent on reaching him. Iris stopped me, thrusting her hand into the darkness between us.

“Stay where you are, Audrey. He’s my insurance. He’s been very worried about you, you know. He stopped me at school yesterday, asking if I knew what was wrong.”

“What have you done to him?” I demanded, my eyes on the snow around him, just the barest hint of red in the white.

“Don’t worry, he’s only sleeping—for now,” Iris said. “We have time to talk.”

Speech was impossible. I stared. I knew I should tell her something, that I should talk about Tigue, and how his eyes had been the ones watching the night her parents died, and that he was just using her, and that she could come back home and the Kin would forgive her and everything would be all right—but I couldn’t. Images flashed through me: Iris at Gideon’s door. The worried tremble of her smile as she asked for his help. Gideon following her out into the darkness. A blur of silver. Demons in the street.

Now, I saw Gideon crumpled at her feet and I couldn’t breathe.

And there was something else.

Something about this place.

I could feel my heart pounding, the movement of blood within me. For a split second, my vision blurred.

“Pay attention,” Iris said.

“What do you want with me?” I asked, trying to keep myself steady. My pulse wouldn’t slow. “Why did you call me here?”

“I want the Remnant,” she said, her voice cool. “I thought you’d figured that out.”

“And you think I can tell you? We already tried that.”

“No. Only one person in the world knows who the Remnant is. Her Guardian.”

A horrible thought struck me. Guardians. Particular gifts. Leon bleeding before me. “It’s me, isn’t it? I’m the Remnant.”

“Don’t be a moron, Audrey. If you were the Remnant, we’d have taken you already.”

I frowned, inching closer to her. I could see her clearly now. She wasn’t alone on the ledge. Two demons bowed at her side, her hands touching their skin. She was sharing their powers, I realized. The triple knot glowed faintly orange, burning against the flesh of her neck. A trail of smoke made a chain at her throat.

And her eyes—

Her eyes had lost their warm St. Croix glow. Now they were lifeless, the pale milk white of a Harrower without its skin.