Sky Ghosts: All for One (Young Adult Urban Fantasy Adventure) (Sky Ghosts Series Book 1) (15 page)

“It’s okay, we’ve got one more.”

She illuminated the locker’s contents with another flashlight. There was only a rolled up map left inside.

She was frighteningly calm, Dave thought. Her voice was uncommonly flat, and for a moment he even tensed, ready to hear the katana swish as his head would separate from the body. Was she always so calm after killing a few dozen men? Maybe he should bring her sacrifices every now and then so it would be bearable to be around her. He smirked at the thought – actually, the idea seemed worth trying.

Pain handed the flashlight to Jane, unrolling the map and spreading it up against the wall.

“We’re at the sixteenth,” she announced loudly, though it only made sense to Jane, who nodded with understanding.

For a few minutes they conferred in low voices, looking at the map this way and that, and then Pain rolled it up and tucked it under her belt.

“We’ve got two news: one good and one bad.”

“We’re all gonna die here,” Dave drawled, continuing for her.

“Shut up, or for you it’ll be true.” She gave him an angelic smile before continuing. “We’re very far from the Headquarters, but at least we’re in Brooklyn, and the route is simple. Let’s go.” She took the flashlight and started along the tunnel that disappeared in the blackness before them. Chad was walking after her, so he was the only one who could make out her next words. “Filthy thugs… tracked us down… left my book there, dammit…”

Silently, he followed her, lost deep in thought. The place was depressing, and its cold metal walls and chilly air made him ache for a fresh breeze and sunlight. They moved in a gloomy procession through the maze, and the repeating sound of their shoes beating against the metal only made it more dismal. They had been wandering in the tunnels for almost two hours, through which Pain had checked with the map twice, when a metal-padded door showed up before them at last.

“Finally!” Pain exhaled and darted to it, hammering her fist against the metal. “Open up, it’s us!”

A few seconds passed in nervous anticipation and muttering, and then the lock clicked and the door opened slightly, a frowned face of a guard showing up from behind it.

“Pain?” he asked with surprise and opened the door wider. Behind it was a room that looked almost the same as the one they had passed when leaving the building.

“Hi, Greg,” she greeted him.

“Hi,” Jane said.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were out on an assignment.” He looked them over with a frown.

Pain grunted.

“You see, we decided to take a pleasant night stroll through the tunnels instead,” she responded and slipped inside, pushing him back into the room. Greg only pursed his lips, watching her come up to the ladder.

“Should I call Peter?” He jerked his head toward an ancient phone on one of the walls.

“Oh, don’t bother. Peter just lo-o-o-o-ves surprises,” she answered and leaped through the hole, landing somewhere on the ground floor with an angry thump. The others went after her, followed by Greg’s worried look.

In a few minutes they were already in the waiting room, and Jane had a strong feeling of déjà vu. This week they had already come here twice in the middle of the night, and she tried to get rid of the feeling that there would be a third time, too. This time Jerry was on duty once again, and as they walked in, he jumped to his feet, as if they scared him somehow.

“What are you doing here?”

Pain froze in surprise, and Dave bumped into her. She didn’t even notice, her small figure like a stone statue glued to the floor.

“Why do I hear this question again?”

“I mean, you’re supposed to be at the corporate apartment, aren’t you?” Jerry seemed to be putting his thoughts in order, his watery gray eyes darting from one of them to another.

“Well, we were,” she drawled as if he were retarded and came up to him, getting seated in a chair. “Call Peter.”

He gave her only one worried look before dialing Peter’s number and asking him to come outside. They waited for a minute in anxiety, feet tapping on the floor, eyes flashing at each other, until Peter showed up in the vinous robe again.

“What the hell happened this time?” he boomed with annoyance and worry.

Pain raised her head, taking in his appearance – weary look, stubbly chin, sleepy eyes. He didn’t seem to have got much sleep this night either.

“So, you think Eugene doesn’t know about the apartment, huh?” she asked, her voice low and thoughtful. Even speaking was hard now, with all of her energy spent in the battle. But the blood was still singing in her veins, and she felt the need to do something at the same time as she felt a huge weight of tiredness press on her shoulders. So she just sat there and twiddled with a pencil from the desk.

Peter looked her over, then Jane and the guys, his lips pursed in frustrated concentration, and then pulled up another chair with a sigh and seated himself in front of Pain. The others were still standing by the doors, eager to leave as soon as possible, apparently.

“Let me guess… You got attacked there?” he asked without much surprise.

“Hell, yeah,” she replied with a meaningful nod.

“Was it bad?”

She mused for a moment.

“Well, it depends… Were you particularly fond of that luxurious white couch? The TV and the ceiling? Oh, the coffee table? Because if you weren’t, I’d be inclined to answer positively. And by the way, I think there’s someone’s head wedged in the window frame… But if you were…”

“Okay, okay, enough. I get it. Jerry, send the clean-up team. Here’s the address,” Peter said, snatching the pencil from out of Pain’s hand and scrabbling something on a Post-it. He handed it to the guard without looking at him and returned the pencil to her with his face as somber as a November cloud. “Did they follow you?” he asked, and when Pain shook her head, added, “Good.” He scratched the back of his head, looking down at the floor. “I think we should make a countermove, but now we all should get some sleep. I’ll think about it tomorrow.”

With a lazy look in his direction, Pain got up and stretched, wincing as her wounds reminded of themselves.

“Okay…” was all she said.

“And I did like the couch,” Peter noted, pointing a finger at her. She only smirked and went to the doors. He watched her go, his half-gray eyebrows arched at something. She was almost in the doorway when his voice sounded again. “What’s with your gear again?”

She paused, suppressing a sigh.

“Peter, there was a bloodbath, what do you think I should have been saving, the others or my gear?” she complained, annoyed.

“How many times do I have to say that you won’t be much of help if you get shredded to pieces? You should be more careful,” he pressed. Her face contorted in irritation, and he must have seen it, because he quickly added, “Okay, whatever. Good night.”

She gave him an irritated snort.

“Yeah, whatever.”

And then she left, with the others already at the elevator.

They crowded inside it and Pain pressed the button, leaving a brown fingerprint on its metal surface. Chad followed her hand with a frowned look. A question was spinning around in his head, over and over, and he turned to the sisters.

“What’s with this gear?? You almost got killed tonight, why did he have to ask about it?”

Jane stayed silent, leaning up against the elevator wall and staring into space. Seeing her like this, he doubted she even heard him. Pain turned her head, though, regarding him with a cold, detached look.

“It’s our job, Chad. This is what we do. That’s all,” she answered in a flat voice.

The doors slid away, and they spilled out. Chad snorted, following her into the hall.

“So if we got killed tonight, you wouldn’t be even bothered?”

“Oh, I certainly wouldn’t be bothered if I got killed. Like, ever,” she sneered.

“No, I mean me and Dave. Would you say that if we two were killed tonight, you wouldn’t care at all?”

They were at the door now, and after Jane fished out the key and opened it, they all gathered at the doorway, kicking off their footwear.

“Well, of course, I’d care.” Pain shrugged, unzipping her shredded jacket, though she could just rip it apart, since it was trashed. “Totally would lose my bonus this month if
that
happened…” she muttered and opened the wardrobe.

Chad growled, feeling the irritation increase.

“I’m kinda serious here, hello!”

She turned on him then.

“Shh! It’s late! Boys are sleeping behind this wall.” She pointed her thumb in the next room’s direction. “You don’t wanna wake him up, trust me,” she added with a shake of her head, meaning Marco, obviously.

“A
cannon
wouldn’t wake him up!” Chad retorted, but lowered his voice, making it a hissing whisper now. She chuckled and raised her eyebrows at his angry tone. Was she amused by him being angry? Was it funny that he was the only one who actually tried to argue with her? “I’m just saying, we’ve spent what, a week now? Living together, hanging out just the four of us, and you think you can use that
it’s-just-work
pretense? You think I’d believe that?” He raised his hands in a question, staring at her back because she didn’t bother to look at him as they talked. She preferred to rummage about the wardrobe’s top shelf, hovering in the air casually because she was too short to reach there otherwise.

At last, she stood on the floor and turned to him. There was a towel, a long T-shirt, and a pair of bright-green panties in one of her hands. The other was undoing the buckle of her weapons belt as she stared at him. Her expression seemed exasperated, but not in a bad way. He could see that malevolent bemusement behind her eyes as she appraised him from top to toe with her look before answering.

“I don’t know.” She shrugged, holding his gaze with hers while pulling her belt free of its loops. Through the tattered remains of her gear bottoms, he could actually see her red underwear at the edge of his vision. She tossed her weapons belt into the wardrobe. “Do I care what you believe?” she enquired indifferently and slipped out of the pants, leaving them right there on the floor. Chad silently thanked God she had at least her sliced-all-over tee and panties on as she turned and crossed to the bathroom at a cheerful pace. Obviously, she got some weird satisfaction from annoying him like this. He sighed.

“Why-Why do you argue with her?” Dave asked with a dubious grimace. “Do you have to do it or something? I don’t talk to her at all, and I’m
just fine
,” he stretched out the last two words with an affirming wave of his hand.

“That’s ’cause you’re intimidated by her, don’t flatter yourself,” Chad snapped back and then glanced at Jane, realizing belatedly that they were discussing Pain with her sister around. She didn’t seem to have heard them, though. Standing by the vanity, she was busy brushing her tangled hair, or trying to do that without staying half-bald.

Dave paled.

“That’s not true!” he hissed, pulling off his blood-splattered sweatshirt with an indignant glare in Chad’s direction.

“Oh, that’s so true, you shit bricks every time she enters the room,” Chad gloated, finding some compensation in bullying Dave instead, since he interfered. “So spare me your opinion.” He heard Dave click his tongue at that and added, mostly to himself as an afterthought, “I just wanted an honest answer, just one. Or am I asking for too much?”

Nobody responded to that, of course, and he sighed inwardly.

Soon enough, Pain showed up from the bathroom, looking wearier than she was before entering it. Her black T-shirt was just long enough to cover her bottom, and judging by the width of its shoulders, it had obviously belonged to a man before. There was a faded white print across the chest: “Don’t mess with my girlfriend.”
Marco, no doubt,
Chad thought, and felt a stab of jealousy toward all their history. It evaporated, though, as he paid attention to countless bruises and scratches all over her arms and legs. They were reddish-pink, standing out bright and irritated against her skin, and he averted his gaze, unable to look at it.

“That’s a funny T-shirt!” Dave exclaimed all of a sudden, and Chad startled, shooting him an incredulous glance.
Oh, right, now he will prove that he isn’t afraid of talking to her.
He thought he saw Jane smirk before she disappeared behind the bathroom door.

Pain measured Dave with a disdainful look.

“Sorry, it won’t fit you. You’re too skinny. And too lame for having a girlfriend,” she replied, and now Chad couldn’t hold back a laugh, turning away so that Dave wouldn’t notice. He did anyway and glared at him with disbelief. Pain must have noticed Chad laughing, too, because she glanced at him and added, “But we can get you one about a boyfriend. That one,” she pointed at Chad with her toweled hand, “gets pretty savage if there are books around. Definitely, no one would want to mess with- ”

“Hey!” Chad threw up his hands, offended, and saw Dave grin this time.

Pain only turned away, coming to stand before the mirror, drying her hair with a sly smile. She could almost feel them both fume behind her. Now
that
was what she called a good day: some men dead, some pissed off, her mission accomplished.