Exported [Book 3 in the Expiring Series]

34 An Unlikely Group

Iris~~

Vienna waves her flashlight beam over the cobblestone street. "Can someone please explain how we're supposed to find anything in the dark?"

Erik walks past her, bumping her shoulder. "It's safer this way."

Out of the crime scenes Vienna gave us, this was the oldest and most secluded.

We haven't seen a soul.

Or any clues.

The street appears almost abandoned. Only a few windows emit light from the aging buildings. The windows at street level are covered in grime, and the doors that are wooden are rotting. But underneath all the dirt, it's clear that at one point—a very far away point—these buildings were spectacular.

Despite the state of the buildings, as far as we can tell in the dark, the streets seem immaculately clean. We haven't seen one piece of trash.

"Safer but impractical," Vienna mutters soft enough only Erik and I who are the closet to her can hear.

Buildings line either side of the street, stretching up five stories into the sky. It's probably a trick of the dark, but they appear to lean over the street as if they're hanging onto our every whispered word.

Whenever someone gets frustrated, Colton keeps reminding us how at the barn the Amoris arranged the bodies into a word and left a note and how much better this all is compared to that. It's gotten to the point that if he does it again, I'm going to scream at him. No matter how many times Andrew argues with Colton to tell him what the note and bodies said, Colton refuses.

Vienna falls behind, leaving me and Erik at the front of the group.

"Look at us." He sweeps the beam of his flashlight over a first-floor window. The light bounces off a mannequin. "We're detectives now."

"Unless you have a magnifying glass in your pocket, you aren't a detective."

"I don't have one, but I do have something far more important."

"Enlighten me."

"My incredible smarts."

"Is smarts really a word?"

He rolls. Behind us, Vienna has fallen into step with Colton.

"How much do you want to bet they'll be back together by the time you return home?" Erik shines his light on a wooden bench.

"She is the reason we're in France . . . but she really did hurt Colton."

Erik kneels beside the bench. "Everyone in the Society hurts each other." He runs his fingers over grooves in the wood where people have carved their names or messages.

"But does it have to be that way?"

He rises from the bench and turns over a loose cobblestone with the toe of his shoe. "It always is."

"Erik—"

"Hello, fair maiden and my dastardly cousin." Bently comes up behind us and wraps his arms around our necks. "I told you this would be a complete waste of time."

"Did you?" Erik asks, pushing Bently's arm off his shoulders. "I can't recall."

"Have you even tried looking, Bently?" I sweep the beam of my flashlight over a flowerbed in the median, looking for trampled flowers, trash, a hidden message. Anything. Weeds have taken over and no flowers remain. Bently and I have hardly talked since he admitted it was him who tried killing me in my sleep. It's disconcerting having his arm at my neck.

"I can hardly think listening to those two talk." He sends a look over his shoulder at Vienna and Colton. "They're both brilliant separately, but together . . ."

"What are they talking about?" Erik asks.

"The benefits of the locations the Amoris has chosen to commit murder."

I shine my light in his face. "What's that?"

He blinks, pushing my flashlight away.

"Because the only thing they're proving is that they're both still in love with each other. If they—"

I clamp my hand over his mouth. "I heard something."

Andrew and Basile head our way.

"A noise," I say.

"What kind of noise?" Erik crosses his arms.
"I don't know. A noise. Will you be quiet?"

The rest of our party joins us, and after I remove my hand from Bently's mouth, I hold a finger to my lips.

Ahead of us the road forks around a tall run-down building, the apocalyptic version of the Flatiron in New York. Only a few of the dozens of windows are lit up, and wooden crates are stacked out front on either side. They look like they've been there for years.

Keeping my steps silent, I head toward the building. The rest of the troop gets the hint and does the same.

When I reach the building, there's a faint murmur of someone speaking. Down the street to the right, two figures stand near each other.

I dip behind the crates and the others follow suit. Erik crouches on my left. Bently is beside him followed by Colton, Vienna, Basile and finally Andrew at the end.

The wood of my crate has been damaged by water and splinters litter it. Nails stick out, one right beside my hand. I quick inspection of the crates, proves they're all in the same state.

Now that I'm closer though to the figures, I can make them out some. One has short red hair that doesn't come past her ears, and her skin is a dark umber brown. The street lights give the pale white skin of the woman beside her an orangish hue. Her black hair also seems to take on the glow. They're both dressed similarly in tight clothes that cover their legs and arms.

The second room turns, angling part of her face in our direction. A face I recognize. She's the Amoris.

I give Erik a nod, confirming it's her.

Is the other woman her latest victim or another Amoris?

Erik whispers in Bently's ear. I assume he's passing the message on.

"I clearly missed a lot."

My eyes widen at the voice. It can't be. He's—

I look up into Jonas's eyes.

I let out a squeak.

Before I can say anything intelligible his eyes drift from me to Erik, who betrayed him, to Bently, who tried to kill me, to Colton, his brother, who has betrayed him, to Vienna, who betrayed the whole Society and his brother, to Basile, a total stranger to him, and finally to Andrew, who tried to kill him.

The Amoris is right down the street. Does he sense her?

My heart pounding, I grab his hand and pull him down on top of me. 

He's back. Jonas is back. I've missed him so much, y'all. The next chapter will be from his point of view, and I can't wait to get back inside his head.