101 - A Perfect Sky; A Storm

8

Under the cloak of nightfall, I once again find myself skulking along the hedges that fence around the Whitlock property—except this time, with Faith. She's convinced that Jay is going to try to clear the nest solo. I don't think she's giving Jay enough credit, but I am proven wrong when I see a tall, hooded figure slip 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. We wait until the van turns down the block, and then I shoot a text to Moira, letting her know he's heading into town. Faith and I run to meet her at half-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.

It's normal to question this plan: we can never be sure where a night will take us, and zompire nests are way easier to exterminate when we can use the sun to our advantage.

Since Jay is so experienced in vampire slaying, he should know better.

So he deserves whatever shit he gets into.

Yet, my stomach roils 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. That makes them easier to outsmart than the vampires that we've come to know, but their strength in numbers can turn lethal.

If the nest he is walking into did that to a Slayer... we must be cautious. 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 Big Bad—

Or worse, what if he is the Big Bad?

Evil doesn't fear a zompire nest. Especially at night. He's walking into the proverbial lion's pit with his head held high.

I slow to a halt at Moira's initial position, closing my eyes and steadying my 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, must 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, are you not getting enough cardio in?" Faith says flawlessly.

I huff a chuckle. I could've kept going, but my thoughts were racing too fast for me to focus. I just needed a minute to collect them. There is no room for doubt.

If Jay and this Slayer are evil, if they pose a threat, I will put a stop to it—to them, if need be. That is my job as a Vampire Slayer.

With 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, falling into 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.

I clock the alley where I found Oz, that suspicion I barely gave thought to before now solidifying into a small knot in my gut.