Ellucid (Ellucid #1) ★

Six

After living in New York City my whole life, I'm a pro at navigating the tricky sidewalks and unhelpful signage. I find the subway system in minutes. It's almost deserted, so I assume it's at least past midnight. The tunnel makes creepy hollow noises as I walk through it, passing people sleeping on benches and loitering with cigarettes.

The money Adrienne gave me pays my fare and leaves me with some spare change, which I run between my fingers as I board the subway. I collapse in a seat by the corner, watching the other boarding passengers anxiously. The city is filled with criminals, and even more pressing is the terror that Asher or his friends will come after me. Maybe they'll drag me back kicking and screaming and tie me to that chair to finish what they started.

I run my fingers along the back of my neck as the train grinds through the tunnels. Anyone watching me would think I'm scratching an itch, but I rub the tattoo etched into my skin. It's not raised like Asher's is—mine lies flat, and I can't identify its shape without looking at it.

We pull up to Prince Street Station less than ten minutes later, and I brush my hand against the white brick pattern on the wall as I exit the train. Next to me a woman's wristwatch, tinted brown from grime, says that it's just after two in the morning—no wonder I'm exhausted.

Thanks for coming, Gabi. Adrienne's voice filters through me again, like I walked through a ghost. It's a short walk to headquarters.

I've only ever been in Soho in the light of day, and at night the unfamiliar territory disturbs me. Every one of my footfalls on the sidewalk sends shivers up my spine, and even though I'm immune to most of the riffraff in the city, the hairs on the back of my neck stand on edge whenever someone gets too close. A giant scaffold spans the sidewalk in front of me, trapping me even more.

Go seven blocks down and take a left on 6th.

I follow Adrienne's instructions, snuggling into my thin sweatshirt. I don't remember changing into it or the jeans and boots I'm wearing, but I'm grateful I'm wearing them instead of my pajamas. For the most part I keep my head down, stopping only to drop my last thirty cents into a homeless man's plate on the sidewalk.

Soon the only light comes from street lamps and the few lit windows from apartments. Fire escapes crawl up the buildings in spindly formation, casting strange shadows over the sidewalk. When I pass a boarded-up building I scurry faster. I wonder if I took a wrong turn.

But Adrienne slips inside my head again, soothing me. We're the apartment directly to your left. Someone will meet you at the door.

I'm so tired I roll over on my ankle as I cross the street, barely dodging a van that bumps its way down the road. When I reach the building I climb the steps and slump against the dirty brick. These headquarters definitely aren't as well cared for as Nathan's, and they don't look spacious enough to run a major operation, but right now I'm too exhausted to care.

There's a lot of trees in this part of town, and the apartment Adrienne directs me to is on top of a store that looks like it sells fruits and flowers during the day. I climb wrought iron steps and am about to knock on the door when it swings open. Standing on the other side, in a doorway lit only by a tiny lantern above our heads, is the boy who broke into my room.

He isn't wearing a hood anymore; in fact, he looks completely normal aside from his strangely colored eyes and the spray of freckles across his dark skin. He's wearing sweatpants and a New York Yankees t-shirt, and his smile is warm and welcoming.

"Hey, Gabi. I'm Emery. I know you're probably exhausted. We'll let you get to sleep and tomorrow you'll get the grand tour, okay?"

I'm not sure if I should trust him—he's the one who shattered glass and threw my drawers off their tracks and stole a book from me. But it's so late it's officially morning, I can barely keep my eyes open—much less stand—and he's offering me somewhere to sleep. There's no way I can refuse.