Black City

“I hate you,” I said.

“Of course you do,” he replied, and then he disappeared.

I stood there on the empty street, fighting back tears, trying to pull myself together. There was no way I could tell anyone else about this.

J.B. would never let me defy the Agency so openly. Despite everything that had happened between the Agency and myself, he still had a strong belief in the system. He still believed that there was an order to the universe that could not be undone. I had seen enough of Lucifer’s machinations to know that this wasn’t true.

I sucked in a heaving breath and wiped my cheeks dry. Crying wasn’t going to solve my problems. I walked slowly back toward the house, dreading the moment when I’d have to explain to everyone else that I had no idea how we were going to get rid of the vampire infestation.

“Madeline Black!”

I turned around, surprised to hear someone calling my name. In the middle of the street were three teenage boys that I hadn’t noticed earlier. Had they been there while I was talking to Lucifer? They were all skinny and had scraggly pubescent beards. The boys carried a variety of weapons that looked like they might be handy for killing vampires—swords and crossbows and stakes. Where had they gotten all those things from?

“Yeah?” I said.

The boy in the center leveled a crossbow at me. He had a red bandanna tied around his head like he was a refugee from an ’80s action film. “You’re coming with us.”

I couldn’t help it. I laughed.

All three boys scowled at me.

“We’re taking you to the Vampire Authority station,” Red Bandanna said. “Don’t make us hurt you.”

I’d completely forgotten about Therion’s stupid message. Now these boys had somehow managed to find me and were intent on collecting the bounty on my head.

“Listen, kid, you can’t take me anywhere I don’t want to go,” I said, trying not to be angry.

They were just humans. Little humans who lived in a city that I had nearly killed myself trying to protect. If the ungrateful little shits knew what I had done for them, to protect them and their families and others like them, they wouldn’t be standing there threatening my life.

One of the other boys also raised his crossbow in a menacing fashion. “You have three seconds to agree or else we shoot. One…”

I blasted nightfire at his crossbow and the weapon burst into blue flames. The kid screamed and dropped the bow, holding on to his hand. The skin on his palm was blackened and peeling. I’d never seen the effects of nightfire on a human before. Was I really prepared to kill some boys whose only sin was stupidity? Maybe Beezle was right. Maybe I was going dark side.

My anger drained out of me suddenly, leaving me exhausted. “Get out of here before I get mad,” I said.

The other two stared at me with mouths agape while the third boy turned and ran.

“Go,” I repeated.

The other two followed, dropping their weapons on the ground in their haste to escape.

I dragged myself down the street, up the stairs and into my apartment, anticipating the expectant glances of my friends.

Instead, no one was there except Nathaniel. He looked grim. He held a piece of paper in one hand and he stared at it as if he hoped his gaze would set it on fire. He had removed his coat and shoes and rolled up his sleeves.

“Where’s everyone else?” I said, putting my sword on the side table and taking off my wet boots.

“Beezle, Samiel and Chloe are downstairs. I believe Samiel and Chloe are…reuniting,” Nathaniel said delicately. “The gargoyle said something about a video game. J.B. and Jude have gone to the Agency.”

“To the Agency? Why? J.B. shouldn’t be going to the Agency. He should be recovering,” I said.

“He went to deal with this,” Nathaniel said, thrusting the paper at me.

It was an ordinary piece of printer paper with the Agency’s seal at the top. The message below was brief.

Dear Ms. Black,

It has come to our attention that at 2:29 pm today you passed beyond the Door. This is your second offense. As a former Agent, you are well aware of the consequences should you continue to defy the Agency.

This is your final warning.

Sokolov

I was so angry I could hardly see. I ripped the paper into a bunch of tiny pieces, threw them on the floor, jumped on them several times, picked up the pieces again, smashed them in a ball and then set them on fire in the palm of my hand. The paper went up in a whoosh of smoke and ash.

“Madeline, calm yourself,” Nathaniel said.

“Don’t tell me to calm down. There are people dying all over this city. Soon they’ll be dying all over the country. And all they care about is a violation of their precious rules,” I spat. “Sokolov doesn’t care that we’re in the middle of the goddamned apocalypse.”

Deprived of the proxy of the Agency’s letter, I went to the hutch in the dining room and pulled out a wineglass. I threw it at the wall with all the force I could muster. It shattered into a very satisfying kajillion pieces, but I still didn’t feel better. I wanted to find Sokolov and pound his smug little face until his features were unrecognizable.

I stomped away from the hutch, looking for something else to break. Nathaniel stepped in front of me.

“Madeline, stop. Think,” Nathaniel said. “A temper tantrum is not productive.”

“This is not a tantrum,” I said furiously.

“It looks like one,” he said.