Stacia Kane - City of Ghosts стр 11.

Barely. But she still felt it.

The fire died. Elder Thompson said something else, too quietly for her to hear. The energy lifted; the First Elders disappeared, leaving only the purple circle glowing around them.

Elder Griffins hands on her shoulder urged her to lean back, to rest against his chest. Her breath hitched; she didnt want to cry, didnt mean to, but she couldnt help it, couldnt stop it. Thirty thousand dollars didnt seem like enough for what shed just given up. Even her faith in the Church, her trust in it, seemed to fade in light of what shed lost.

The circle disappeared; fresh air flowed into where it had been, dispersing the smoke. Through the last purplish tendrils of it she saw Lauren Abrams reappear, smiling slightly, looking down at Chess on the floor like that was just the right place for her.

That was enough for Chess. She shrugged Elder Griffins hands away, pushed herself to a stand on legs that threatened to give out on her. She couldnt do anything about the tears shed already shed, about her sweat-soaked dress clinging to her body or wet hair clinging to her skull. But she could damn well face Lauren on her feet.

Lauren smiled slightly, looked her up and down. You did well.

She fought me. Elder Thompson sank into a chair, pulled out a handkerchief and mopped his heavy brow. She almost broke out of the circle.

Laurens eyebrows lifted; she looked at Chess with new interest. Really.

Cesaria is very strong, Elder Griffin said, and Chess had to fight not to look at him. Not to go to him and let him hold her again. Shed nevernever had someone do that, not like that. Had never heard anyone talk about her with such pride in his voice.

That wasnt exactly true. One other person had done both of those things. But he never would again.

Well. Lauren dusted her hands together, as though she needed to wash them of Elder Griffins kind words. Now that its done, we have some things to discuss, dont we? 

Chapter Four

The picture slid across the polished wooden table, the images horror barely contained by the thin white edges of the paper. Chess looked at it, swallowed hard. Looked again.

He was found three days ago. Well  that much of him was. We expect an ID any moment. Laurens crisp, cool tones cut through Chesss anger, the overwhelming pity she felt, looking at the ruined body in the photograph. It was an effort not to leap across the table and smack her. How could she do that? How could she look at thatthat thing, that lump of flesh and goo that had once been a human being, and just move on with her pat little speech?

Down by the docks. I believe youre familiar with the area?

Chess nodded without thinking of it and reached out a tentative hand for the picture. Her dress was still wet; it clung coldly to her body. But that was not why she shivered.

Another picture slid over, knocked into the first one before Chess could touch it. Yesterday this turned up, farther south. Fifty-fifth and Brand. Several different victims this time, but not their whole bodies. Just what you see.

The slick photographic paper threatened to slice her fingers when she picked it up, angled it so she could get a better look. Not that she wanted to. But Lauren and the Elders watched her too closely, sat too silently and stiffly in their chairs. There had to be something they wanted her to seeto noticeand she wanted to know what it was.

Her gaze skittered over the picture, trying to take it in pieces, quadrants, to shield herself from the full horror of it. Across the top first, then down, the lower right corner, the

Raised black scars interrupted her wrists. Thick and straight, like railroad ties crossing her forearms. Sprouting from them were curving veins of dark purple in a lacy pattern up to her elbows, down over her palms.

Elder Griffin caught her look. Theyll disappear when the Binding Oath is lifted, he said. They remain simply as a reminder.

Yeah. Like she could fucking forget.

But she just nodded and continued, steeling herself for the full image, until finally she saw what they wanted her to see. It was barely visible, only a linear shadow in the darkness of the black-and-white gore. But it was there, and Chesss blood ran even colder than it had.

Fuck, she needed her pills. The Lamaru.

When no one responded she looked up. Right? The Lamaru are back. Thats what this is. Who did this.

Lauren nodded. We believe so, yes.

She reached down, lifted a thick file from her lap and plunked it onto the table. Weve received information that theyve re-formed themselves and are operating somewhere in the area known as Downside. Where you live, is that correct?

Yeah.

Excellent. So youll be an even bigger help than we thought. When shall I come down? Tonight? Are you free?

What? What the fuck? She was sticky with sweat, shed practically had a fucking breakdown, shed watched two Church employees dieand now Lauren Abrams, who hadnt been through any of that, thought Chess was going to invite her out to wander the streets of Downside? At night? And not even her own neighborhood, where she was relatively safe?