Page 47
Story: Seeing Red (The Codex #1)
We all stare at the screen in shock. The decimated street pans into view again, with bodies covered in bloodied sheets and people crying as ambulances wheel the survivors away while Alastor stands to the side, taking tissues from the reporter and dabbing at his eyes.
“We had tracked them through Vienna,” he says with a quivering lip. “A number of our troops lost their lives.”
A video switches over as Alastor speaks, showing an aerial view of a wooded town burnt to ash at the base of the mountainside.
Lienz.
My mouth hangs open, rage spreading through my veins like wildfire. How dare he—
Castor catches my wrist before I have a chance to drive my fist into the screen. He doesn’t look at me, but he doesn’t let go either.
“They are very dangerous,” Alastor warns. “Anyone who sees them needs to exercise caution. They will kill anyone who stands in their way. We need your help to find them before they cause any more harm.”
Our faces flash on the screen again with our full names and then it goes black.
“That son of a bitch,” I growl, ripping my hand from Castor. “He’s seriously turning this around on us?”
Baron breaks away, leaning against the wall with a harsh thud. “That’s low, even for Alastor.”
I push myself away from the room, charging for the stairs. “We need to find him, now.”
“No.”
I look at him, disbelief flickering across my face.
“Alastor’s baiting us,” Castor continues, “He’s trying to flush us. If the police are watching us, the last thing we should do is make a scene trying to hunt him down.”
“But we can’t just sit here and wait for him to come to us!” I argue. “We need to find him before we have fucking interpol knocking down our door.”
Samara nods thoughtfully. “We’ve been checking leads, but it’s like Alastor’s burrowed into thin air. His broadcast was from somewhere near the docks. We could start there.”
“We swept the area when Baron found me. There weren’t any contractors then, and there wasn’t any sign of them in the woods when we left.”
“Yes there was,” Baron interjects.
I blink, trying to understand what the hell he’s talking about before it hits me.
“The smoke!”
“Black smoke,” Baron adds.
“It was miles away though,” I say, “It could be something he’s hiding in, a distraction.”
Samara exchanges a glance with the men, her expression hardening. “Or a smokescreen.”
Baron shakes his head. “Not that kind of smoke. They’re burning bodies, which means the police are in their pocket or he has contractors keeping them out.”
Castor crosses his arms, nodding thoughtfully. “If Alastor’s recouping, he’d be far enough from the docks to avoid prying eyes.”
“Then that’s our best lead,” Baron nods. “Follow the smoke.”
“What about the broadcast?” I say, turning to Samara. “Can you tap into it?”
She shakes her head. “Not without getting flagged. The feed was live.”
Live feed, I realize. And it aired seconds ago, which means Alastor is right down the fucking street!
“Alastor could still be there,” I say. “We might be able to catch him while he’s vulnerable, without his army around him.”
Castor cuts in. “We can’t be in two places at once, and the police could already be waiting at the docks.”
My hands shake, fists clenching and unclenching. I fucking hate when they’re right. If we are wrong, then Alastor escapes and we can either have a hundred contractors or the entire Venice police waiting for us.
“Can you hack the surveillance at the docks?” Baron asks.
She shakes her head.
Silence settles over us, thick and stifling, until Baron breaks it with a quiet, resolute, “Absolutely not.”
“Arik, we don’t have a choice,” Castor says. “Alastor won’t stop until he’s forced our hand.”
“Can’t you see what he’s doing?” Baron snaps. “He’s trying to separate us again.”
Baron clenches his jaw. “Then we go in together. We aren’t separating.”
“And if we’re wrong?”
Baron paces, his hand sliding down his face in exasperation Samara and Castor share a glance. There’s something they’re not telling me. Baron’s never shied away from being stuck in the middle of nowhere, but now that Alastor could be minutes away from us, he’s visibly shaking, pacing like a dog in a cage.
Baron’s gaze catches mine and his eyes soften.
“What do you want to do?”
I glance at each of them, all three of them seeming to ask me something different.
I suck in a breath. “Arik’s right. We can’t split up entirely.”
Baron looks like he might kiss me, but I shake my head, turning to Castor and Samara. “We’ll go in pairs.”
His smile fades instantly, though the other two spring into action, grabbing supplies from the kitchen.
“I’ll go with Silas,” Samara calls out from the kitchen, a knife in her hands. “You go with Arik.”
I return her nod. “We’ll head to the docks, try to catch Alastor with his guard down.”
Castor’s jaw is tight, but he gives in. “And we’ll handle the sentries by the smoke.”
“Am I the only one who thinks this is a bad fucking idea?” Baron shouts.
Everyone freezes, eyes trained on him.
I step towards him, trying to ignore the hesitation as I try to look through the curtain of black covering his soft blue eyes. “We’re running out of options, Arik. And we don’t have the luxury of waiting this out.”
Castor places a hand on Baron’s shoulder, offering a small nudge. “We’ll be close. We’re going to be fine. All of us.”
“We’ll stay connected,” I promise him. “The moment anyone finds Alastor, we regroup.”
He doesn’t answer right away, disappearing into another room without another word. I wait, watching his shadows dance in the soft lamplight and finally, he comes back, and in his hands is a phone identical to theirs. “Stay close,” he says. “The second it’s clear, we’re getting out.”
I try to protest, but he cuts me off with a sharp look, “For the love of fuck, Helena, do not fight me on this. I don’t care if Alastor’s there or not—I care that we all make it out alive.”
I nod, taking the phone into my hands.
“They’re Samara’s design,” Castor explains. “Encrypted and off any Acacia frequencies.”
Samara taps my screen, unlocking it with a single touch. “Your fingerprints have been added to it so only one of us can access it. Keep it on you, and don’t give them an inch.”
Baron takes his rifle into his hands, checking the clip and loading it swiftly. “One hour,” he commands. “No one sticks around longer than that. Head down, and anyone that’s not Alastor? Kill them.”
My brows push together. “What about Alastor?”
We all turn to Samara and she scoffs, shaking her head. “Don’t ask me. I want him dead.”
Castor interjects, though, with a hint of reluctance. “We should try to recover any information he has on Acacia’s network. Any connections they have, Alastor has. If he destroyed the files or has them, we need to know and go from there.”
Baron shakes his head. “No more interrogations. This is capture or kill.”
We start gearing up in silence, the room filling with a soft hum as weapons click into place and armor is adjusted. I’d seen Samara’s armory upstairs, a single room filled to the brim with weapons and ammunition. What I didn’t see is that she had three more rooms for manufacturing. Her supply would astonish me if I hadn’t served with her in the military, though I’m not sure I want to ask exactly how she learned to make assault rifles and bulletproof armor.
Samara tears away from the group just as I finish fastening a plate to my chest and she hands me a gun. “Here. Castor kept it.”
I lift my brows as she hands me a Hallow. I take it, turning the gun over in my hands. My hands trace along the edges, the blunt parts where I’d bashed it into Alastor’s head before. He kept the exact same gun I’d used in the church.
I smile, as fucked up as that seems, but it’s sweet. He went back for that gun just to give it to me.
I catch Castor’s eyes lingering on the gun in my hands before he goes back to strapping on his own gear.
“Didn’t think I’d ever ask this, but where the hell did you learn how to build weapons?”
She shrugs but I catch the sly grin she makes as she talks. “Just a hobby of mine.”
A hobby. Right. Some girls would collect stamps or learn how to crochet. Building bombs and weapons is a completely normal hobby and not at all concerning to the average person.
“I guess that’s one way to pass the time while the commercials play on TV,” I deadpan. “Some hot tea and gunpowder?”
Samara laughs lightly. “Well, given a choice, I’d rather have tea, but it was good physical therapy. Good for Castor that he took out my good arm. It took me a long time to figure out how to slap him just as hard with my left.”
A laugh bubbles in my chest and I toss my head back, the two of us laughing like kids while we talk. I’d forgotten what it was like to have a friend I could be myself around, someone to help me forget how serious this situation really is, and god knows Samara has an ungodly habit of laughing at the wrong time.
I fall against the wall next to Samara, sighing as I try to force myself to get serious again, and then I see Baron and Castor completely still, watching me. It catches me off guard, and my smile vanishes, a flush creeping on my cheeks as I look away just as quickly.
Samara nudges me with a smirk. “Now that was something to see.”
“What?”
She motions toward Castor and Baron and that flush deepens. God I hope they can’t see that.
“Arik and Silas? They’re watching. They do that a lot.” I shrug.
“That’s not what that was.” She looks at me and then smiles, shaking her head. “Do you not see the way they look at you?”
The warmth floods my cheeks again as Baron approaches, nodding to Castor, who glances down at me. “We’re ready.”
Samara nods.
“There’s a construction zone blocked off about three miles from here. That would be a good place to start looking.”
Castor steps close, his voice soft. “Stay close. Stay alive. We’ll see you soon.”
I nod, and he leans in, brushing his lips over mine. It’s gentle, almost hesitant, and just when I press mine back, he pulls away, his lips skating across my ear.
“Over his dead body,” he whispers before pulling away. “Ready?”
I look between them, a feeling deeper than loyalty swelling in my chest. “Ready.”
Table of Contents
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- Page 47 (Reading here)
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