101 - A Perfect Sky; A Storm

5

Under the cloak of nightfall, I once again find myself skulking along the hedges that fence around the Whitlock property. And this time, Faith is by my side. She's convinced that Jay is going to try to clear the nest solo. I think Jay has more sense than that, but I am proven wrong when I see a tall, hooded figure float out the front door and slip into the van.

The wheezing, old engine drowns out the crunch of dry leaves beneath our feet as we retreat deeper into the hedges. From there, we keep still until the van turns down the block, and then I shoot a text to Moira, letting her know he's heading into town. She responds with a "K" to confirm her position, ready to tail him on sight.

Faith and I run to meet her at medium-sprint, trampling overgrowth in our wake before we get to the asphalt and alleys. My phone chimes incessantly from my back pocket, each notification from Moira providing live updates on every turn Jay takes.

Part of me can't help but question the quality of this plan: It's the dead of night, for fuck's sake! Zompires are way easier to kill when we can use the sun to our advantage.

Since Jay is so experienced in vampire slaying, he should know better. He deserves whatever shit he gets into because of it.

Yet, my chest tightens at the image of Jay's throat being ripped out by one of them, the flesh being torn from bone where they sink their teeth. Zompires are feral creatures, with no other incentive but to feed. Despite that making them easier to outsmart than the vampires that we've come to know, their strength in numbers can make up for it.

If the nest he is walking into did that to a slayer... even we have to be careful. And Moira, rendered utterly human without her powers, has to be even more so.

Jay must be absolutely fucking insane to go in alone—

Unless he is in league with a potential Big Bad—

Or worse, what if he is the Big Bad?

An evil human doesn't fear a zompire nest, especially at night. He's walking into the proverbial lion pit—with his head held high.

Perhaps I was too hasty to cross him off the naughty list.

I slow to a halt at Moira's initial position, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. Strands of hair have been ripped free from my braid and now float around my face in the gentle breeze. Faith, not having expected to break stride, has to skid to a stop and brace against the side of a building. Moira has already gone ahead to continue tracking Jay, my phone once again chiming.

"What," Faith says smoothly, "are you not getting enough cardio in?"

I only huff a chuckle in response. I could've kept going, but my thoughts were racing too fast for me to focus. I needed a minute to collect them—

No. To shake them away. There is no room for doubts or hesitations.

If Jay is evil, if he poses a threat, I will put a stop to it—to him, if need be.

And if not... perhaps an alliance will come of this.

With mastered breath and steady hands, I retrieve my phone and read Moira's updates: Based on the directions and surrounding businesses, Jay has returned to the same neighborhood where we found Oz.

I don't let myself wonder if Oz being in that neighborhood wasn't a coincidence as I slip my phone back into my pocket and jerk my chin. "This way."

Faith emits a grunt of surprise as she pushes off from the building, determined to keep up with me. We weave through shortcuts in the alleys, engaging in a half-hearted competition as we gracefully hurtle over trash bins and discarded obstacles. When we finally emerge from the labyrinth of narrow paths, we find ourselves just a block away from the bakery Moira named in her text.