He pulls away. “This isn’t right. Not here.” He looks over my shoulder at the funeral.
I tell Ash my plan about visiting Mr. Tubs.
“We can snoop around and get some of the Golden Haze,” I say. “If we work out what it’s been blended with, then maybe we can trace it back to the original source. Whatever that gold stuff is, it can’t be that commonplace.”
Ash looks at me uncertainly.
“We have to at least try. I don’t want my mother pinning this on the Darklings.” I lace my fingers through his. “I can’t lose you, Ash.”
He nods. “Okay, it sounds like a plan.”
“When should we go?” I ask.
Ash stands up, a new determination in his eyes. “Let’s go now.”
23
ASH
THE SIGN ABOVE Mr. Tubs’s pawnshop hangs from a single screw, threatening to fall down at any second. I hold the door open for Natalie. We step inside the shop, which is brimming with tacky bric-a-brac like jewelry, weapons, hats, instruments, electrical equipment—basically anything someone could exchange for a few coins. It’s hard to navigate through the piles of knickknacks. Mr. Tubs is nowhere in sight.
Fragg! I have to get my hands on that Golden Haze. It’s our only hope of working out who’s really responsible for Chris’s and Linus’s deaths. For the first time, I’m starting to worry about Rose’s Law being passed. I hadn’t fully considered the implications before. I could be forced to live in the Legion with those creatures. I’d never see Natalie again.
“I just had a thought. Won’t Mr. Tubs find it odd that you’re here?” Natalie asks me.
“Yeah, but don’t worry, I’ve got a plan,” I say, although the only plan I have is to get out of this shop without a stake through my heart. I squeeze her hand reassuringly, and she relaxes. We approach the glass counter at the front of the shop and ring the bell. A moment later, a short, tubby man from the Eastern territory emerges from the back room. An unlit cigarette hangs from the corner of his mouth. He instantly recognizes me.
I raise my hands as he reaches under the counter for a weapon.
“I brought you a client. Call it a peace offering,” I say.
Natalie gives a nervous smile.
“Go on,” Mr. Tubs says, his interest piqued.
“A Tracker took my poison sacs. I can’t deal anymore,” I say, the lies spilling off my tongue. “Now Linus is dead, I figured you’d need a new guy, and I’ve got a bunch of clients lined up for you.”
My pulse races as I wait for him to respond. He moves his hand from under the counter.
“I think about it,” he says.
I exhale.
Mr. Tubs turns his attention to Natalie.
“So what does a pretty thing like you want?” His rheumy eyes drift toward Natalie’s chest, and my fangs tingle, wanting to bite him.
“Well, I’ve got this big party coming up, you see,” she says in a rush. “And I wanted to make it a really fun party.”
“Tell me, pretty girl, how much ‘fun’ you want?”
“A lot. Around fifty mils?” Natalie says.
“You got money?” he asks.
Her cheeks turn pink. “Er, no.” She turns to me, whispering, “My mother cut off my allowance the night I met you. Do you have any?”
Ha! As if. I shake my head. We really should’ve worked out these details, but I just assumed Natalie would have the money.
“You waste my time!” Mr. Tubs says, his round face getting red.
“No, wait.” Natalie takes off her antique watch. “I’d like to pawn this. It’s worth a lot.”
I grab her wrist before she can pass the watch over. “You can’t sell that; it was your dad’s.”
“We don’t have a choice,” she whispers back. “Besides, I know he’d understand why I did it.”
She looks at me with determination, and I let her wrist go. I’m not going to boss her around; she can make up her own mind about things.
“Put a ten-day hold on it,” I say to Mr. Tubs. “I’ll work off the debt.”
Natalie gives me a grateful smile, then hands the watch to Mr. Tubs, who inspects it with curiosity.
“Nice piece you got here. Watch face made from Bastet ivory, that very rare. I give you two phials of Golden Haze for it.”
“I’ll take it,” she says.
“Follow me,” he says.
He leads us into the backroom and down a flight of narrow stairs into the basement. Natalie gasps and grips my hand. The floor is writhing with humans, all lost in an ecstasy of Haze, kissing each other and pulling off their clothes, unaware or simply not caring that they have an audience. Languishing on several tatty sofas is a group of Darklings, who must’ve snuck over the Boundary Wall to visit the den. Darklings can get high by drinking the blood of a human who has taken Haze, and many think it’s worth the risk of climbing over the wall to get a fix and some fresh blood. I try not to drink too much from my clients when I’m giving them a hit of Haze for this very reason; it’s easy to get addicted.
They roll their dull eyes on me, the sparkle long gone from them. One Darkling has strange bite marks all over his face and neck, as if he’s been attacked by an animal. Beside him are twin Darkling girls, both with a shock of white hair and gleaming orange eyes. Nordins. They have nubby stumps sticking out of their shoulder blades where their wings used to be. They’re all feeding on a human—a woman in her thirties, her skeletal body ravaged by Haze. Her eyes are shut, and she looks blissful. My stomach churns as I picture the boy we feasted on at Sigur’s place. They probably picked him up from here.
Mr. Tubs steps over the humans sprawled on the ground and goes into his tiny office at the back of the room. We follow. The room consists of an old desk covered in paperwork, a nudie calendar, a filthy fridge and several small TV screens showing CCTV footage of the Haze den. There’s a bookshelf beside them filled with digital disks, with dates scrawled over them; I’m guessing these are recordings of the CCTV footage.
He notices me looking at them. “It for insurance. You report me to authorities, I have proof you come here too, and we both go to jail.”
It’s twisted, but it makes sense. He opens the filthy refrigerator at the back of the room. He takes out two green-capped phials of Golden Haze, just like the one Linus had, and hands them to Natalie.
“Listen, this very important,” Mr. Tubs says to Natalie. “You take just a drop, okay? No more. It much stronger than regular Haze. Some kids, they didn’t listen and they—” He waves a hand dismissively. “It their own fault.”
My fangs throb again. He must be referring to Linus and Chris. So that’s the deal with Golden Haze? It’s fine in small enough doses, but take too much, and it’ll kill you? That’s one heck of a risky game to play. How much is too much?
She pretends to inspect the venom before passing a phial to me. I pop the lid and sniff the liquid. My nostrils flare. It’s Haze all right, although whatever it’s been blended with smells rank.
“Do you know what the gold stuff is?” Natalie asks Mr. Tubs. Way to be subtle. “I hear it’s meant to give you the best-ever high with no Haze Headache afterward.”
Mr. Tubs gives a yellow-toothed grin. “That a secret ingredient.”
“Are you sure you can’t tell me? I mean, if it’s not safe—” she says.
Mr. Tubs seizes the Golden Haze. “You don’t like, you go elsewhere.”
“No, no!” Natalie takes the Golden Haze and grabs my arm. “Let’s go.”
We exit his office and go back into the main den.
“Sorry, I totally messed that up,” Natalie says.
“We got the drug. At least that’s a start,” I reply.
“Ash?” a familiar voice calls from the gloom.
A girl walks out of the shadows into the red light, her midnight-blue hair flowing down to her waist. Evangeline. Something stirs inside me at the sight of her, and I quickly force the feeling aside. In Evangeline’s hands are several blood bags. A thunderous look crosses her face when she sees Natalie.
“What are you doing here?” I say.
“Getting some blood for Sigur. He doesn’t eat that Synth-O-Blood crap. What are you doing here?”
I show her the phials of Haze, and she looks at me quizzically.
“Let’s talk outside,” I say.
It’s begun to snow lightly, turning the once-black skies a hazy gray. We duck down an alley beside the pawnshop.
Natalie stretches a hand toward Evangeline. “Hi, I’m Natalie.”
Evangeline doesn’t shake her hand; there’s a cold, hard look in her eyes.
“I know who you are. You’re the Emissary’s daughter,” Evangeline replies. “What I don’t understand is why you’re here with Ash.”
“She’s the girl I was telling you about last night,” I say. “Natalie’s my Blood Mate.”
“No!” Evangeline glowers at Natalie. “It can’t be her.”
“Why not me?” Natalie says defiantly.
Evangeline snarls and flashes her fangs.
“Whoa, easy there!” I say, getting between them. “Put your fangs away.”
Evangeline steps back, taking a shaky breath.
“I know it’s surprising, but I hope you can be happy for me,” I say to Evangeline. “I’m happy.”
Evangeline knows what it’s like not to have a heartbeat. She must understand what it means to me to have found Natalie.
“Congratulations,” she mutters.
I quickly explain to Natalie how I know Evangeline, which seems to relax her a little.
Evangeline points to the phials of Golden Haze in my hand. “Why are you buying Haze from Mr. Tubs?”
I tell her what happened with Linus and Chris.
“How come they died from it? Others must’ve taken Golden Haze and survived,” Evangeline says.
“It’s only lethal in high doses,” I explain, remembering what Mr. Tubs told us. “If you take a small amount, it’s okay.”
“What do you think the Golden Haze has been blended with?” she asks.
“That’s what we’re hoping to find out,” I say.
“I can run some tests back in the lab,” Natalie says.
Evangeline flashes Natalie an angry look. “And I’ll bring a sample back to the Legion. Our alchemists can study it too.”
They both hold out their hands, waiting for me to choose who to go with. I know I should go with Natalie—she is my Blood Mate—but something is holding me back, telling me to go with Evangeline. I don’t understand why I’m so confused when it’s so clear-cut I’m meant to go with my girlfriend. Maybe it’s because Evangeline is a twin-blood? I’m curious about her.
“If you want to go with Evangeline, that’s fine,” Natalie says quietly.
I smile, grateful that she’s letting me off the hook.
“I’ll catch up with you and Beetle tonight at the Park,” I say, kissing her on the cheek.
She doesn’t say anything as I leave with Evangeline.
24
NATALIE
I POP DOWN TO THE LAB, hoping to run some tests on the Golden Haze to find out what it’s been blended with. Jealousy spikes inside me at the thought of Ash with Evangeline. How can I possibly compete with a twin-blood? They’re so incredibly beautiful, and I’m just a plain human.
I think I’m in luck when I don’t immediately see Craven in the laboratory, so I rush over to one of the microscopes. Then the door to the Biohazard lab opens and Craven exits, holding a thin black case. His wiry bronze-colored hair is unkempt, and there are dark rings under his green eyes, like he hasn’t slept in days. He seems surprised to see me.
“Hello, pumpkin. What can I do for you?” he says.
“I . . . erm . . .” I quickly slip the Golden Haze into my pocket. “Do you know when Sebastian’s getting back?” It’s the only thing I can think of to say.
“He arrived home a few minutes ago. He’s in his room.”
“Great.” I fake a smile.
I go upstairs, tiptoeing past Sebastian’s room, not wanting him to know I’m here, but a floorboard creaks underfoot. His door opens, and I gasp. Sebastian’s gorgeous blond hair has been shaved off, and there’s a raw-looking rose tattoo just above his left ear. The room behind him has been stripped bare. Even the silk sheets on his bed have been replaced with simple white cotton ones.
“You’ve shaved your hair,” I say.
He runs a hand over his head and gives a cold smile. “Of course. Every follower of the Purity must remove their hair.”
I’m too dumbfounded to speak. Instead I just head to my bedroom and put the phial of Golden Haze inside my jewelry box on my nightstand. Sebastian follows me a moment later and flops down on my plush bed.
“What are you doing?” I say.
“I wanted to hang out. I haven’t seen you in a few days. I thought we could talk.”
“I’m going out.” I grab some clothes from the wardrobe.
“Where are you going?” he asks.
“None of your business.”
“I’m your guard, so it is my business, especially after what happened to Malcolm.”
My gut wrenches at the sound of his name. I keep having dreams about Malcolm and Truffles’s dead, mutilated bodies, always followed by nightmares about the child in the cave. My eyes dart to the dark stain on my floor where Truffles’s blood seeped into the carpet. I kick a rug over it.
