Torn
Page 57

“Really?” I was trying to think of what was down there, but all I could muster up were images of old warehouses. Definitely no mansions.
Brighton drew in another deep breath. “It’s where the Market Street Power Plant is.”
My lips parted wordlessly and I paused to think. “That huge, abandoned and creepy-ass building on Peters Street?”
“Yes,” she said. “I told you. I’ve compared the different maps. Some of them show a different city—places that, as far as we know, don’t exist. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”
That didn’t entirely make sense. “Are you going to be home all day?”
“Yes. Where else would I be?”
I stopped beside a delivery truck. “I’m going to swing by. Just promise me you will not go to that plant. Okay? I’ll check it out first.”
She didn’t answer.
My hand tightened around the phone. “Promise me, Bri. There are a lot of crazy things going on right now, and the last thing I need is you getting kidnapped or falling through a rotten floor. I’ll be over shortly. Just hang tight, okay?”
Brighton hesitated and then sighed. “Okay.”
“Thank you.” I started to hang up and then stopped. “I talked to Jerome. He knows something, but he warned me to not poke around about these fae.” I kept my voice low as people passed me. “You haven’t mentioned this to anyone else, right?”
“Who else would I tell?” She laughed, and it sounded forced. “Everyone already thinks my mom and I are crazy. No reason to give them further ammo.”
She had a point. “Okay. I’ll be over soon.” As soon as I disconnected the call, the phone rang again. This time it was my home number. I answered. “Tink?”
“How’d you know it was me?” he asked.
I rolled my eyes. “Who else would be calling me from inside my apartment?”
“I don’t know. People. Ghosts.”
“Ghosts?” I turned, walking back toward Canal.
“Maybe they can use phones. You don’t know.”
“I’m pretty sure ghosts can’t use the phone,” I replied dryly. “Is there a reason for you calling me?”
He huffed. “I have a reason. I was calling to tell you I set up the answering machine for you.”
I’d forgotten all about that. “Thanks.”
“And I also might’ve ordered something else. Okay, I definitely ordered something else. But not from Amazon. You can’t get these from Amazon.”
“Okay.” I picked up my pace, knowing more cabs would be on Canal. “What did you order?”
“It’s a surprise.”
Oh no. “Tink, I don’t like your surprises.”
“You’ll like this one.”
“Doubtful. What is it?”
“You’ll see when you come home. Bye!” Tink hung up on me.
I glanced down at my phone, half-tempted to call him back, but figured I didn’t have the brain space to deal with whatever he was up to. Catching a cab on Canal, I gave him the South Peters address, which earned me a puzzled look. Whatever. I’m sure the cabbie had driven people to weirder places.
As I stared out the window, I remembered the crack of Henry’s neck and winced. What was I going to do about that? I knew I had no intentions of going to David or law enforcement, and I knew that didn’t say great things about me. What I needed was more information from Ren about what he knew that led him to believe there was now such a risk.
Traffic was a pain, and it took about twenty-five minutes to get over to the old power plant. The moment I stepped out of the cab, the man tore out of there like an army of bats was chasing him. Guess I was going to have to Uber it back out.
I eyed the sprawling brick building that was several stories high and had many broken windows. I approached one that looked like a basketball had been thrown through the glass, and peered inside.
“Yikes,” I murmured, seeing overturned, broken workbenches and chairs. I really couldn’t see more than that through the window I was peering into. The place was incredibly dark.
Stepping away, I made my way to the end of the building and down the side. A tall metal fence enclosed the back and obscured most of the rear of the building, but there was no mansion inside. A trailer could fit back here and be hidden. Maybe a single-story home, but definitely no mansion. I walked the length of the fence, looking for a possible opening and not finding one as the scent of the nearby river grew stronger. A narrow alley appeared, and it looked as abandoned as the power plant.
There was nothing here.
Shows a totally different city.
I was going to have to get in front of Brighton and see whatever she was looking at to figure it out. Pivoting around, I hurried back up the side of the building, toward the front as my phone went off again. This time it was Ren. My stomach dropped, a mixture of excitement and unease. “Hey,” I answered.
“Where are you?” he asked.
“Um.” I glanced inside one of the broken-out windows and saw a flutter of wings. A pigeon. “Nowhere. Where are you?”
“At the apartment. It’s been taken care of.”
I wrapped my arm around myself, glancing up at the thick clouds as a shudder worked its way through me. That was extraordinarily quick. “Ren . . .”
“What?”
I swallowed hard as I looked around. There was some kind of industrial business across from the old power plant. There were a ton of white utility trucks, but no one was moving about. “We need to talk about what happened.”