The sky was dark.
Not the usual blood-red, but a deep black, spreading westward like spilled ink on a white canvas. And that was very bad.
Eric could smell it before he even reached for the radio in his only real possession—a battered green car that screamed more than it revved and spent more time at the mechanic than with him.
Still, it had its uses. A quick money-maker when he was desperate. And it carried memories, like the night he'd fled the research center with Kael in the backseat, sirens blaring in his ears. He remembered the car rolling downhill, slamming to a stop against a rock.
Ha. Good times.
Now, though, he needed cash. Kael's meds were empty. The pantry was nearly bare. A couple of passengers would cover both. Transport was expensive.
Except that wasn't happening.
The radio crackled and the music was cut out.
"This is an official government announcement," a voice cut through the rusted speakers. "This information is of utmost importance and will be repeated every thirty minutes."
Eric exhaled. Shit.
"Neal City lockdown. High-threat warning issued. Everyone remain indoors. Reinforcements en route. Next update in thirty minutes."
The broadcast cut to static, and after that, it went silent.
Eric leaned back, staring at the cracked windshield. Great. No passengers. No cash. No food run. And most importantly, no meds.
No wonder the streets were empty. Not even the smugglers were out.
His phone buzzed. Sighing, he picked it up.
Kael: Guess who's here?
He was about to reply when another message popped up.
Kael: Natalie!!! And she's demanding you get your ass home if you haven't heard the news.
Another buzz.
Kael: I'm still mad you messed things up with her, by the way. What am I saying? You mess up everything.
If Natalie was there, it meant Kael had called her before or after she called him during her episode. And his ex was the only person, aside from him, who knew his sister was an uncontrollable Ashborn.
They'd stayed friends (if he could call it that.) after the break. He'd ended it a year ago, knowing he couldn't give the spoiled heiress anything but baggage while her father demandied his head to leave his priceless Gem alone.
Probably for the best.
Eric chuckled into the silence, the familiar emptiness settling into his core. He should go home, get some rest and rise up very early when the scum of the earth began to roam.
But as soon as his fingers brushed the steering wheel, there was a small knock. Eric held the wheel before his gaze snapped to the window.
A silhouette stood just outside, like a shadow beneath the weak glow of a streetlamp. Didn't help that he was dressed in an attire so black he merged with the dark.
Eric didn't move.
The lockdown had turned Neal City into a ghost town but there was that knock just outside his door.
Eric rolled the window down an inch, ignoring instinct telling him to grab the knife under the seat. "Sorry, man. I'm closed for the day." He started rolling it back up.
"Six hundred."
Eric halted. His brows knit. His gaze flicked over the man; tall, wrapped in a heavy coat that hid most of his form. Probably armed. Probably dangerous.
Probably rich.
Six hundred was a whole lot of cash to give up on. A week's worth of provisions. A month of Kael's meds. Enough to fix the damn house.
Real easy, but definitely a bad idea.
Another knock but this time quick and loud. "Don't know if you can tell, but I'm in a hurry."
Eric exhaled. "Where to?"
"South checkpoint."
His heartbeat quickened. The f—?!
Neal City had three major checkpoints, each leading into different territories. The South checkpoint was the worst—right in front of what used to be an industrial sector before the First Wake turned it into an Ashspawn breeding ground. Even smugglers called it a last resort.
Eric squinted. "You looking to die?"
The man didn't even give the courtesy of a reaction. "No."
Great. So reassuring. I feel safer now.
"That's dangerous,"
"Going or not?"
He hesitated. He should go home. Natalie was probably waiting to skin him alive.
But Kael needed her meds and this was certainly the only cash he'd see tonight.
Eric clicked his tongue. Fuck it, his lids dropped, bargaining mode activated. "Eight hundred."
"Six."
"You hit your head? City's locked down."
"Seven."
"Eight," he repeated flatly. "And you don't die close to my car."
The man paused, then, finally: "Fine."
Eric sighed, unlocking the seat beside him. "Just in case you move funny."
The man slid in. No gun like Eric expected, just a black briefcase he hugged close. He turned his face to the window, hood pulled low.
"You can drive now."
His phone buzzed again.
Eric clenched his teeth and started the engine before he could change his mind. The car wheezed like an asthmatic chain smoker, then roared to life.
Too late to back out now.