a change of heart | e.k

Chapter Twenty One

He was in the warehouse.

Évangéline stood in front of the old building, held together by little more than faith. It was abandoned, clearly. She could tell by the way the grass around stood taller than the snow, and the way the door swung wildly, neither open nor closed.

But he was there.

The knowledge had only come to her after having an encounter with an odd man. A man with warm honeyed skin and sky blue eyes.

She'd been at her lowest when he'd found her. It'd been days since she'd first set out to find Elmer, and she'd gotten nowhere in that time. Her hope had dwindled, little by little, until it'd sunk from the pit of her stomach to her toes.

She'd failed him. She'd failed Elmer, and her sisters, and her parents. She'd failed them all.

The building she sat against burned her back, but she ignored the brinks pressing into her frozen flesh, focusing only on the crushing weight of her heart. Heavy sobs wracked her body, and she wiped away her tears as fast as her hands would allow.

A man cleared his throat.

She looked up, sniffling, being met with a pair of stunning blue eyes against a honeyed complexion. He smiled kindly, extending a hand towards her. "Come on up. It's cold on tha ground."

She swiped at her eyes before taking the hand, standing with his help. "I don't make it a habit of breaking down in front of strangers, so you didn't see anything."

The man chuckled. "See what?"

She smiled against her better judgement. "Exactly."

They stood in silence for a moment, when he suddenly nudged her shoulder. "Nice place, eh?"

Evangeline made to reply before she froze, realizing he wasn't just making small talk. Nice place, more or less, was a phrase her family had carried around for decades. For it wasn't just a phrase. It was their name.

Beaulieu.

"It is," she said stiffly, wondering what this man knew. "I wouldn't have pegged you as a man with an eye for sights, exactly."

His expression didn't shift, acting as though he hadn't heard her. "I'll admit, it's better in the light."

Her lips clamped shut. Of course. He was with The Lights.

"Dere's a warehouse," the man said suddenly. "About thirty minutes from here on foot."

Évangéline frowned, not understanding what he was getting at.

"Luckily," the man continued. "I drive trolleys."

"What does any of this have to do with warehouses?"

The man was silent for a moment, then spoke, his voice low. "Jus trek tha path to dat lane, 'n you'll have him."

Trek. Lane. Surely, it wasn't a coincidence. She suddenly felt she understood what he was saying. "You mean...?"

"He's dere," the man she now knew was Trek said. "Yer muddah got me ta help find him, but-"

"You know where he is and you haven't helped him?" Évangéline yelled, outraged.

Trek pursed his lips, motioning for her to quiet down. Already people were looking. She didn't care. "I tried. We both did. But he wouldn't let anyone in. He's got tha place protected." Trek paused. "He wants you."

Évangéline paled, leaning in closer. Only then did she notice the scrapes and bruises on his face. "He, as in Delancey?"

Trek didn't even risk a nod.