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CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

A CRUEL AWAKENING

J oe didn’t wake measure by measure, grasping his way out of the fog that had downed him. He felt the rough and wet tug of Moxie’s tongue on his cheek, and he was bolt upright, searching for Percy. Fruitlessly, stupidly searching, because even before he opened his eyes, he knew the warmth was gone. His heart, his existence, his reason for living, taken while he slept.

The others roused, one by one, due to his shouts, his feet on the floorboards as he pounded through the apartment, as though Percy might have wandered off to another room and left them all there, passed out on the floor. It was an agony of fast-paced slow motion—an everything and a nothing that flung Joe from one room to another in a frenzy, some counter in his mind taking stock of his options. Whatever weapons Percy might have once had would have been taken or destroyed when the apartment was ransacked. But he would find something to use. He would get him.

Leo was up now, beside himself with the loss, Althea close, reassuring him that if it had been anyone else, they might have been in trouble. But not Percy. Percy was indestructible, and Leo knew that. Just as well as she knew that.

Giordano was staggering to his feet, listening, trying to piece it all together, and Joe let Althea take over, filling Giordano in on every detail, recounting every pinprick in the map that Percy and Joe had been over together. Every twist and turn, like it was a story to be easily recounted—a tale with a start and an end—not life itself; not a moment in time before which nothing existed, after which all was void.

A sharp metallic twang sounded as he pulled the still-wet chopping knife from the dish rack, barely cool from Percy’s beautiful fingers having last touched it. He searched over the counter tops and found Giordano’s gun. So small. It didn’t look like it could do a thing to help him, but he turned, half distraction, to Giordano, and asked, “Bullets? More bullets?”

Giordano looked regretfully at the gun. “That’s it. That’s all I brought.”

Joe shoved it into his pocket and wrenched the kitchen drawer open with a clatter. “Where is everything, Leo?”

Leo, in tears, knew exactly what he meant. “There’s nothing. There is nothing. You saw what happened to the place.”

Joe pulled out anything sharp he could find, wondering if the flimsy paring knife could ever stand up to bone. “No, no, not Percy. He’s smarter than that. He’s got to have a hidden compartment—or, or a trapdoor or something.”

Leo, pacing the floor, carded his fingers through his hair. “Anything he has is across town. In his vault.”

Joe looked up, the first touch of hope easing the taut skin across his cheekbones. “Then you get it. Get it all.” He slammed the drawer closed and wrenched a cupboard door open. “And that must be where he’s keeping the sheath?”

“It’s too far,” Leo cried, the pain in his attempt at a brave voice making it crack just like a teenage boy. “You heard her. We don’t have any time. We need to go get him. Now!”

Joe ripped a dishcloth to shreds and began winding a long string around his biceps. “I’m going to get him. You’ll bring the sheath.”

“Fuck you, Joe, I’m not leaving him.”

Joe spun around, knife in his outstretched hand, and yelled, “You’ll do as I say. Percy is mine, and I’m going to get him, and anyone who stands in my way is going to die tonight.” He shoved the blade into the makeshift holster and strode to the door.

Althea, all this time, had been keeping one ear on the group, and one on the nightmare below. “Did you hear that?”

With his hand on the door, Joe paused, turning dark eyes back. “What is it?”

Althea scrambled for the window, and it took but one look to bring a shake of her head, and, “Joe. No. Don’t go out there. It’s not human. It’s something else.” She raised a hand, and they all waited in silence until a long and low growl cut through the air.

Definitely not human. Not good.

Joe gave a slow nod, then advanced across the room to Giordano. He shoved the gun up against his chest, Giordano’s hand covering it by instinct. “Get them there. Kill anyone or anything that gets in your way.”

Leo took one look at the gun, realising the inevitability of the plan that Giordano readily acquiesced to, that Joe had gone and made without him, and stepped forward. “No?—”

Joe’s two shaking hands pressed against Leo’s face, and Joe spoke vehemently, eyes shining, locked with Leo’s. “He’s going to be fine. I promise you. I’m going to get him, and I’m not going to let anything happen to him. But if something happens to you, he’s not ever going to be okay again. Do you understand?” Leo’s face went blank at the unexpected outpouring, the protective affection. Joe lowered his voice, speaking so deeply into his heart, it was all vulnerability, with a desperate plea. “I can’t do this. I can’t get you both. He thinks the world of you, and you need to be your top priority now. You do that for him, and for me, and for you. I don’t want a scratch on you, you got it?”

Tears rushed to Leo’s eyes, and in the urgency of the moment, he knew there was no protest to be made. Joe needed the sheath— Percy needed the sheath. And he was the only one who could get it. Every natural impulse in him to be the one to get Percy—to not walk away from him—raised itself so violently inside and in opposition to logic that he couldn’t form any utterance.

But Joe understood. He pulled Leo’s head against his chest and hugged him tightly. “I promise. I’ll find him.”

Leo gave a small nod, pressed his back with his hands once, then pulled away to the far side of the room

“You can’t go to the cemetery alone,” Althea protested, trying her best to mask the fear in her voice with a deep and practical tone. “And Percy doesn’t want us to give her the sheath. Let’s just stick together. We’ll come with you.”

Joe glanced out the window at the desolate scene, another growl cutting into the night, then another, coming from a different direction. He focused clear eyes on Althea. “I’ll get them out of your way. And I’ll see you there. This is all we can do.” He raised a hand to her cheek. “Stay safe.”

He made for the door, snatching another knife from the kitchen table on his way past.

Althea called after him, “But god knows what she’ll do if she gets a hold of the sheath. You’re playing right into her hands.”

“She can do whatever she likes,” Joe threw over his shoulder on his way out the door. “I don’t care if the whole world burns. So long as I get to Percy first.”