City of Dust

Chapter Seventeen

The girl spins around. "Mommy!" She runs towards her, nearly bowling the woman over.

I stand next to the gatehouse, watching their reunion as a pang of emotion stabs me in the heart. No, I need to stop getting sentimental. What I need to do is get my money and get the hell out of here.

Kayleigh's mother looks just like her daughter—the same warm brown skin and eyes. The only difference is that her hair is pulled back into a thick bun, whereas the kid's is tied into two balls atop her head.

"You made it," the woman murmurs, rubbing a hand along the girl's back. She looks up and spies me. "Ah, Hunter. Thank you for bringing my daughter."

I nod perfunctorily. "It was my job," I tell her. "If I could just get my payment slip, I'll be on my way."

Doctor Parrish-Abbott presses a kiss to Kayleigh's head, then gently untangles the girl's arms from around her waist. The joy and motherly love slip from her face and she suddenly becomes solemn. "Of course. But I must invite you inside."

Beneath the scarves, I bite my lower lip. I'm ten years older, scarred, and with blue hair. How many of my parents' old coworkers would recognize me? Apparently, not the good doctor here. "Fine," I say.

"Good, good." The doctor slips her arm around her daughter's shoulders and turns to go back inside. I follow a few steps behind. Looking over my shoulder, I watch as Winston is led to the stables, an unhappy Egon at his heels.

I haven't been in a proper building in ... well, ten years. This one, in fact. A reception desk sits up against a wall displaying three working widescreen televisions. The waiting area is clean, with comfy chairs, and small tables with fresh flowers; somewhere in the room, coffee is brewing. God, I haven't smelled coffee in ages. It's one of those goods that has a hard time getting across the country because of the demons.

A blonde woman sits behind the steel desk, her hair pulled tightly back from her face and tied into a voluminous ponytail. She looks up as we enter, shock smacking her like a board across the face. A red brand peeks above the collar of her blue blazer.

Hmm ...

A warning bell chimes softly in my ear. I don't like the look of that.

Kayleigh's mother pauses by a set of double black doors and looks over her shoulder at me. "I just have to make a quick stop, first, if you don't mind?"

I glance around the room. There are a few magazines I can keep myself occupied with—chances are high that I've never read anything in here before. "I can wait here."

The receptionist and doctor exchange a brief look. "Oh, no need to do that, dear. It will just take a minute. It's on the way to my office."

A growing suspicion tickles the back of my head. I do a quick inventory of weapons on my person: eight knives, two flash-bangs, and my blood magic. I should be good if something happens.

"Fine," I grouse.

"Good!" the doctor exclaims brightly and pushes the doors open, revealing a stairwell.

Gritting my teeth, I stuff my hands into my belt, fingertips brushing against the thin handle of a thumb-sized throwing knife hidden there.

We descend a black staircase not one—not two—but three floors down. The unease I'd felt earlier begins to boil in earnest in my belly the further down we go. Kayleigh is oblivious, gripping her mother's hand tightly and chattering about her adventures.

The stairwell opens into a long hallway. At the end of it is a large set of carved wooden doors. Two men in crimson armor stand guard.

My mouth goes dry and my knees buckle slightly. Trap, trap, trap! I spin in a whirl of fabric, only to run face-first into a tall man in blood-colored armor. Instinct takes over and I stab upwards with the thin knife. It ricochets off of the armor, screeching as it does so.