Drown Under Earth - Shadows of the Night 3

Chapter 15

Hey!

Another week over, and I didn't write and edit as much as I wanted to. Well, isn't that the story of my life (lately)? Stuff just keeps popping up and getting in the way when I least expect it. Now back to the story. I like this one and it was fun to write it, so I really really hope you'll like it too. Let me know! :D

Lara

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Chapter 15

The streetlight was swallowed up by shadows, darkness all around us. The way he was standing there, still and quiet, like a shadow himself, it was almost as if he was part of it. Night had come, the only time this city that once used to thrive and move on restlessly – never silent, never asleep – came to a fragile, elusive sense of tranquility.

Andy's blond hair was messy, and yet he managed to pull off the out-of-bed-look without effort. With his black jacket wrapped securely around him, he was leaning against a motorcycle I didn't even know he owned.

I jerked my head back to where my car was parked against the curb – a none too subtle gesture that was supposed to make him come to me. Naturally, subtlety didn't get me anywhere with Andy. He remained where he was, arms folded in front of him.

I sighed, walking up to him.

He let his arms fall to his sides, staring at me. "You ready?"

"Sure, let's go," I said, about to turn my back on him and head for my Ford.

He put a hand on my shoulder. "You remember what I told you?"

I gave him a look. You've gotta be kidding me. He really was going to make me say it.

I sighed. "Fine. This is your secret source. I won't tell Brown or the Circle about it, or anyone else for that matter. I'll do as you say and follow your instructions. I got that the first time you told me. Can we get going now?"

He nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "We're not going there by car."

I froze in mid-motion. No. No way was I going on a motorcycle with Andy. I didn't even want to find out how much of his personality was reflected in his driving.

"I don't think so, Varner. It's my car, or nothing at all," I said, jingling my car keys in front of him.

He looked at me, hard. "It's my source, Johnson. Your choice."

That was how I ended up climbing on a behemoth of a motorcycle, clutching a witch that knew the word 'caution' only from hearsay.

* * *

It was in one of the fringe areas of the city, in a neighborhood I had never been in, less heard of. If my senses weren't deceiving me, we were at the outskirts of the Bronx, close to the portside. Graffiti smeared along walls of abandoned houses, toppled trash cans, car wrecks that had long been raided and gutted, and litter I didn't even have a name for. I had seen a lot, knew the different flavors and tastes of the city, but I couldn't remember ever having tasted this one.

I looked up and down the street, trying to get a feel for the place. It was eerily deserted, noise swallowed up by the dark silence around us. We had long left the sound of police sirens behind us. Looked like there was no law in this area. There was only survival, or death.

My senses were brimming with unspent magic. There was a wagonload of adrenaline waiting to happen. Not for the first time I silently asked myself why I'd signed up for this.