City of Blood

30

Helen doesn't accompany us to the address on the note Conrad left for us. She sat us down at her kitchen table for a good forty five minutes after we got home and demanded an explanation, as she knew nothing of Conrad or Irving past the human trafficking allegations. Once we explained what we knew, I could tell she was wary but she didn't stop us from leaving.

Callum is driving, naturally, and he has his hand on my thigh the entire drive. His eyes are a little bit hazy, and he keeps squeezing my leg sporadically as if he's trying to ground himself.

"Are you okay? Have you eaten?" I ask, laying my hand over his and gently running my thumb over the back of his hand.

He smiles, but it's tight and doesn't really soothe me at all. "Samuel went out of his way and got humans involved when he called the police. All of those officers were human. He just... his regard for human life is limited because we both know he wouldn't have flinched killing them if something had gone wrong."

I hadn't really thought about that, to be honest. Of course, I know Callum is big on protecting humans from our world considering that he was one, so it makes sense he'd notice these things. Even if Samuel wants to punish me, integrating humans is dangerous for them.

Regardless of Samuel's morals, every supernatural knows not to let average humans know about our world or else we're forced to integrate them into it which is a struggle for both parties. If something had been revealed when I was being arrested, there's a chance he would've killed those officers.

"I didn't think about that," I murmur, and Callum nods but doesn't say anything else. "We'll figure this out. Irving's group must have a plan, that's why they want to talk, right?"

Callum squeezes my thigh once again as he parks on the street. "Hopefully," he says, mumbling a bit.

We get out of the car, and it's both cold and raining a little bit. I shiver and close my side of the car, pulling my jacket tighter around myself. The address is a random door in a building, sandwiched between a bar and a clothing store which is closed.

There's a keypad on the door, and it's made up of assorted letters and numbers. It's obviously custom made, but some of the letters match the code word written on the paper Conrad handed to me, so I type it in and hear the door unlock.

Once it's open and we're inside, Callum slips his hand into my own and I almost tense up when I realize how cold his hand is. I know it's just because of the temperature outside, but it's off putting because I'm used to his warm touches and the chill is matching his current mood.

We should've just gone on another trip. Our relaxing vacation feels like it's gone to waste; we were both relaxed, happy, in touch with each other... and now it feels like that's all gone away. Moving away from Oregon sounds really nice right now, but unfortunately I think Callum and I both feel responsible for Joseph and Samuel's chaos.

Gods, I didn't mean to drag him into this and I feel so guilty. I know Callum wouldn't want me to feel that way, but I do.

Inside the door is a long hallway, and it looks weirdly nice inside despite the door outside looking run down. The floor is lined with shiny black tile, and it's clearly cleaned daily. The walls are painted black as well, but it makes the place look elegant as opposed to overwhelming.

Callum and I walk past several doors that are closed until we reach the end of the hallway and find the one door that's opened.

Irving is sitting at a desk in the corner of the room, reading a newspaper. There's a glass of wine on the desk, but it looks like he hasn't touched it. In the center of the room is a large table with twelve chairs and there's a boy who looks like he's ten years old sitting at it, working on some kind of homework assignment.