“If you’re the person I think you are, it’s a little late to develop a conscience.”
The Chemist disappeared into what was left of a tiny galley kitchen. He rummaged through the empty drawers, desperately searching for something—most likely a fix.
Nox sighed, waving the money between his fingers. “You need this, don’t you? Tell me what I want to know.”
When the man realized there was nothing left in the kitchen except for a few balls of tinfoil and a half dozen plastic lighters, he began searching the cupboards, one at a time. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Nox moved toward the Chemist and slammed one of the cupboards shut just inches from the junkie’s face. “I know what you were doing in Abraham’s labs. Experimenting on Casters and Incubuses—and that kid.”
The Chemist stood frozen, his hands gripping the counter in front of him. “What kid?”
“Don’t bother lying. I know all about John.”
The Chemist stumbled back as if Nox had pointed a gun at him.
Nox took a step closer. “John Breed. That was his name, right?”
“I didn’t want to do it. Abraham Ravenwood forced me.”
“He was just a kid.” Nox shook his head.
“You don’t know what he was like or what he would have done—” The Chemist examined Nox more closely, his whole body shaking. “Wait. You’re the boy. John. You’re finally here to kill me, aren’t you?”
Progress.
Nox took advantage of the Chemist’s fear. “I’m not John. But I know where he is.”
It was sort of the truth.
And it could’ve been me.
“If you don’t tell me where the labs are, I’ll bring John here so he can thank you in person.”
The Chemist started talking so fast Nox could barely understand him. “They’re behind Abraham’s house. You can’t access them from here, but there’s a door along the Mile that leads right into his house.”
Of course.
“How do I find the door?”
“Get to the Mile just before the sun comes up. Ravenwood’s cook will be there, unless the old Caster is dead by now. Follow her. But you won’t find Abraham Ravenwood there. He’s dead. People say your friend John killed him.” The Chemist had a crazed look in his bloodshot eyes. “I’m probably next.”
“If the labs aren’t where you say they are, you will be.” Nox tossed the hundred-dollar bill on the kitchen counter. The Mile wasn’t a hard place to find.
The junkie’s eyes flicked between Nox and the money, but fear was no match for the Shine. He lunged for it and scrambled past Nox.
By the time Nox reached the first floor again, the Chemist already had a plastic bag in his hand. He was killing himself, one tiny piece of Sunshine at a time.
As he made his way through the shadowy world of the Tunnels, Nox was haunted by his own demons. He’d spent most of his life trying to forget his past, and this was the reason. It opened a sea of darkness that threatened to drown him. No one was strong enough to hold off an entire sea, and he had never felt closer to going under.
He desperately wanted to think about anything other than his childhood—or Silas Ravenwood.
To be more specific, Silas Ravenwood and Ridley.
He tried to shake it off, but the more he tried not to think about it, the more clearly the images took shape in his mind.
What Silas might be doing to her right now—or making her do. What he could do to her, if he wanted to. Or if she was already gone.
Nox stopped and leaned against the side of the Tunnel wall, letting his head drop into his hands. The thought put him over the edge, and when he went that far over, he couldn’t think straight. When he couldn’t think straight, he made stupid mistakes. Stupid mistakes could end up getting Ridley hurt.
Stop.
Find something else to think about. Anything else. Just keep it together until you get to New Orleans.
He had to know if Silas Ravenwood had gotten his hands on Ridley.
Or her corpse.
Nox drew his lighter out of his pocket and held it up in front of him. He felt the familiar coiling in his stomach at the thought of the unshakable stone of whatever the future held.
Might as well strap the Wheel of Fate to my back right now.
But it didn’t matter.
He didn’t matter. This had stopped being about him the moment he’d seen the car crash, inside the lighter’s flames the last time.
With a shaking hand, he struck the flint and looked into the flickering light….
At first there was nothing but fog, thicker and blacker than usual.
Nox made his way into the depths of it, just as he always did.
The smoke of time and memory and everything else that stood between the Dark Caster and his even darker visions.
Nox pushed through.
When the shadows began to clear and the vision began to take shape, Nox thought something was wrong.
I’m losing my Sight. I can’t see anything.
Then he realized he was seeing something.
The smoke formed broad vertical lines, as if someone had spilled black ink over his head and now it was dripping in front of his eyes.
Like trees in a forest, flashing by a speeding car. Like a picket fence, only black, not white.
He almost smiled at the idea of one of his visions showing him something as happy and peaceful as a white picket fence. Then he stopped smiling, because the smoke began to focus itself into a more detailed shape, and Nox Gates realized exactly what he was looking at.