"Hypothermia, rem
ember? The doctors said you might have black spots. Was it a vision?"
I nodded. "There were lamiae, they'd been held captive..."
I'd promised to see to their remains. I had to make sure I did that.
I continued, "The point for now is that the last time I was down here, I had visions."
"Got it. Which means this time..." He took my hand. "Hold tight. If you see anything move, tell me. Don't wait to be sure it's not just a rat."
"There are rats?"
"Underground? Near the river? Nah."
I managed a soft laugh. "Right. Okay then, let's press on."
We couldn't hear anything overhead. Which didn't mean the police were gone--they'd be there for hours. We had to find our own way out. That would be much easier if I could recall anything about the layout of this place.
We continued down one passage after another.
"Starting to feel like we should have brought breadcrumbs," Ricky said.
"Wouldn't help. The rats would eat them."
He chuckled and pushed open a door. It got partway open and stopped. He looked down. "What the--?"
The room strobed. I heard soft sobs. The rattle of chains. A man lay on the floor, his body decomposing. Another body lay near--
"--and wrong room, apparently."
A yank on my arm, hard enough to make me stumble, and I found myself back in the corridor with Ricky, his fingers wrapped tight around my arm as he shut the door he'd been opening.
"Wrong room," he repeated.
"Yep." I glanced down. "Was there a...?"
"Skeletonized body blocking the door? Unfortunately." He looked around. "Okay, so let's back up, away from the vision-inducing hell-room and--"
"Wait!" I said. "This way. There's a window right around the corner. That's where Gabriel found me."
I led him through a doorway to see a figure coming through the broken window. I gripped his arm. "I'm seeing--"
"It's not a vision," he whispered. "Unless we're sharing it." He tugged me back along the passage. "You said Gabriel came through there?"
I shook my head. "He couldn't fit, so that can't be him."
He turned off the light and we stood there, listening. Footsteps whispered across the floor. Then Ricky pulled me toward a doorway. We slipped in and waited.
As I listened, I picked up breathing. Fast, deep breathing, like someone trying not to panic. Three careful, light footfalls.
"Don't take another step."
I jumped at the voice--an unmistakable baritone.
"There is a gun trained on you," Gabriel said. "You will raise your hands and take two steps back toward me."
"I'm--" It was a girl's voice.