Thirty-three

"It's Art. It's got to be Art," Ivy said as she paced beside me in the empty tunnel, fretting at my slow pace. We'd make faster time if she carried me, but that wasn't going to happen.

"Why are we just now hearing about him?" Edden asked, and I blanched as she turned her anger-black eyes to him.

"Because I'm a stupid ass," she said caustically. "Any more questions?"

"I don't understand why you didn't recognize his scent," I said to distract her, but having her glaring at me wasn't a vast improvement.

Ivy took a slow breath. The shadows of Mia's lantern moved with us, making it seem as if we weren't moving at all. Edden had his own flashlight, and I was shaking too much to hold one. The FIB captain had predictably wanted us to wait for a car, but Ivy was predictably so sure she knew where he was that she headed down before they could get back here. So of course we predictably went with her. At least I had Edden's socks on now, something I hadn't predicted but greatly appreciated.

Slowly Ivy eased her tension, and once calm, she answered, "It was five years ago, and smells change, especially when you go from living in a nice house in the city to a dank hole in the ground. He was my I.S. supervisor." Ivy clenched her jaw, seeing not the darkness ahead of us but her past, fidgeting so subtly that only Jenks or I would notice. "I told you, remember? I put him in jail for one of Piscary's accidental deaths so I wouldn't have to sleep with him to move up in the I.S. hierarchy."

My eyes narrowed, and Edden took an aggressive stance. "Y-you…," he stammered. "That's not legal," he added.

Ivy was nonplussed. Unvoiced thoughts flitting behind her eyes, she glanced at me and said, "Vampires have a different outlook on legal."

It was making a lot of ugly sense, and a slow burn of anger took root as I hiked my coat closer and put one cold foot before the other. The deeper we went, the thicker the dust and dirt were. "So you put him in jail for Piscary's crimes, and then got demoted to me, huh."

Ivy jerked. Mouth open in embarrassment, she said, "It wasn't like that."

"Yes it was," I said, hearing the bitterness as my words echoed back. "I was your punishment. No one puts a witch working with a vampire. I wasn't blind those first few weeks until you…lightened up." I was shivering violently, but I wasn't going to go back and wait in a car.

Shadows on her face, Ivy looked at me. "I could have gone to the Arcane. I chose to be a runner. That I was assigned to you is one of the best things in my life."

Edden cleared his throat uncomfortably, and my face warmed. What could I say to that? "Sorry," I muttered, and she looked ahead.

"Ivy?" Edden's voice was tired. We'd been walking for a good five minutes. His radio wasn't working, and I knew he wasn't happy. "No one is down here. I understand your desire to search, but they inspect the tunnels every year. If there was a vampire here, living or dead, they would have found evidence of it by now."

Ivy glared at him as if he might turn around and walk off. "Who inspects the tunnels?" she said, determination etched on her tight brow. "The FIB? Humans? Inderlanders made these tunnels as much as humans did. There will be oubliettes for destitute vampires. A place to hide before hope is abandoned to the sun. Art is down here. I've been searching the city for three months. I wasn't looking for him, but if he was around, someone would have seen him." Her face went frighteningly still. "It's the only place left."

Edden stopped, placing his feet wide, tucking his flashlight under his arm, and becoming immovable. He took a breath, and suddenly Ivy was right in front of him. Surprised, he let his breath out and backed up a step.

"Don't think you're big enough to get me to go upstairs so you can come down here and find him yourself," she said softly. "You won't find the safe hole without me. If you ask the I.S. for help, they will walk right on by and come back without you later."

She was right, and I shifted to stand on my other foot as Edden thought about it. Clearly bothered, he exhaled long and slow. "Okay. Five more minutes."

We started off again, Ivy bolting ahead before she remembered me and slowed down. I ought to be in Carew Tower partying the new year in, but no, here I was, slogging under the city looking for a dead vampire. Anger was what was keeping me moving now. Ford had said I was a good person. It was what I wanted to be. I wasn't so sure anymore that he was right.

With no warning, Ivy's head came up and she stopped, breathing deeply. The lantern in her grip swung to make fast shadows, and the whisper of our feet echoed eerily as Edden and I stopped. Adrenaline jabbed me. My roommate smelled the air, backtracking a few steps with her hand running at shoulder height along the uniform wall.

Her eyes were black in the gloom, and I picked up the lantern when she set it down to run both hands against the stone.

"Close," she whispered, and I stifled a shudder when she moved to the other side of the tunnel's wall with that vampire speed. "Here." My heart pounded at the raw hatred in her voice. Edden and I came nearer, lights held high. My shadow stretched behind me, and I shivered again.

The wall looked utterly unmarked, apart from a small indentation where someone had chipped a hunk of stone away, but if it was a vampire oubliette, it wouldn't have a neon arrow pointing to it. It was going to be a secret door, and it was likely locked.

Ivy put her fingers in the indentation and pulled. Nothing happened. Her head came up and she tossed the hair from her cold, dark eyes. Damn, she was ready to vamp out. "Please get this door open for me, Rachel," she whispered.

Okay. If it was a door she couldn't open, it was going to be witch magic, which meant I was going to have to cut my finger or tap a line. My thumb felt the rough edges of the cut on my finger as I thought. Drawing blood while she was like this was not a good idea, but tapping a line was going to hurt.

I looked at the door and placed a hand on it. Speak, friend, and enter, ran through my mind, and I choked back a bark of laughter. "Nice," I said when a quiver in my middle brought forth a twin pull from the magic stored in the door. The wall had been built with a ley line charm in it. Buried in the concrete was one hell of a charmed circle of iron. I'd have to tap a line.

My hand dropped, and I got a sick feeling. Whatever was behind the door was going to be nasty. "It's a charmed door," I said, glancing from Ivy to Edden, and the squat man frowned.

"What's that?" he asked, looking defensive.

I shifted uneasily. "Just what it sounds like. Remember when I told you that all Inderland magic runs on witch magic?" I thought of the elves, and added, "Mostly, anyway. Vampires love witch magic. They use it to look young after they die, to call demons to beat up helpless witches, and when they want to hide themselves, they use it to lock themselves in." I was going to have to tap a freaking ley line, but a little pain would be a small payment for finding Kisten's killer.

Edden tucked his flashlight under his arm and angled it to the line between the wall and the floor. There was a shifting of dust to show where the door had been opened once, how long ago was up for debate, invisible unless you were looking. Hand shaking, I put my palm against the smooth rock. The FIB captain's bulk shifted to take an aggressive stance by the door.

"Edden," I complained, "if there is an undead vampire in there, he will kill you before the door even finishes opening." Ugly, but true. "Back up."

The FIB captain frowned. "Just open the door, Morgan."

"Your funeral," I muttered, then took a deep breath. This was going to hurt. My fingers were numb from the cold, and they cramped as I pressed them deeper into the stone. Taking a breath and gritting my teeth against the coming pain, I locked my knees and tapped a line.