It was a short drive. St. Killian’s wasn’t too far from my house if you were in a car. I’d learned from Will that Michael and Rika had an apartment in Meridian City, but they spent almost as much time in Thunder Bay now in their newly renovated home. An old, abandoned cathedral that overlooked the sea.
In no time, the driver turned off the highway, and I expected to feel the gravel I remembered from years ago when I came out here, but there was no crunch of rock underneath the car. It was paved now, and I imagined they’d also manicured the land around the church. Italian cypresses lining the driveway, maybe. A fountain or statue or maybe flowery display in front of the house.
He stopped and put the car in Park, and I grabbed the door handle, ready to get out, since the ride had already been charged to my card on file.
“Would you mind guiding me to the front door?” I asked.
“Yeah, sure.”
He got out of his side, and I climbed out of the car, meeting him as he came around. I didn’t know him, but it wasn’t a big town. He probably knew I was blind.
I took his arm and he led me across the driveway and up to the house.
“There’s stairs,” he warned.
“Gotcha,” I replied, finding the first step. “And the door is directly at the top?”
“Yep.”
“Okay, I got it from here,” I told him.
“You sure?”
“Yeah, thank you.”
Rika told me to come over today to hang out, so I knew she’d be home. It was early, though.
The driver left me and walked back to his car, and I wanted him to wait for me, but they didn’t work like a taxi. I would just have to order another ride later.
I reached the top of the stairs and searched for a doorbell but didn’t find one. Locating a knocker, though, I rapped it twice and waited.
Please be home. Please be awake.
Damon’s friends—former friends, I’d learned—were the only people he could threaten all day and never hurt. They were just as powerful, if not more. He could be stopped.
I rapped the knocker again, three times this time, and waited, the rain growing a little heavier now as thunder cracked overhead.
“Hello?” I called, knowing it was useless. If they hadn’t heard the massive piece of iron hitting the door…
I grabbed the door handle, a heavy metal ring in keeping with the medieval style I knew the cathedral sported, and twisted, the door magically giving way and opening.
That meant they were up, at least.
“Hello, anybody home?” I called. “It’s Winter Ashby.”
I stepped inside and closed the door, inhaling the most amazing scent. A mixture of coffee, vanilla, and stone. I could feel the air above me and knew the ceiling was sky high. It smelled spacious with lots of fresh air. This place would be a nightmare to heat, though.
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“Hello?” I said.
Still no answer. I dug out my phone.
“Dial Erika Fane,” I said.
My phone chimed, and after a moment I heard my line start to ring, and then I heard her phone receive the call somewhere in the house. Her ringtone played “Fire Breather” by LAUREL above me, and I smiled, following the sound. I didn’t want to invade her home, but I really didn’t have time to lose.
“Hello?” I sing-songed again.