Shadow spent far too long staring at Gray, as if he were about to defy him, but he finally released the ankle. If only Gray could keep the arm without bringing this talking, breathing obstruction with him.
Working with Shadow, who didn’t seem to have yet grown into his new body and remained awkward like a teenager after a sudden growth spurt, was nothing like the easy flow Gray used to share with his twin. Mike and he often came to identical conclusions and practically read one another’s minds while on the job. The trust Gray used to have in his brother was so great he would have jumped into a burning oven if Mike told him so.
In contrast, Shadow was dead weight at Gray’s side, like a rock gritting in the cogs of Gray’s proficiency.
The arm was the only thing that made his presence here worthwhile.
Inch by inch, the two of them moved along the train, fighting the wind, which disrupted balance and constantly slowed them down. Gray was annoyed that he hadn’t risked jumping a little bit later and landing on the roof of their target, but every time the sense of agitation pushed curse words out of his mouth, he reminded himself that a larger window decreased the risks of the job. He just needed to stay calm and trudge on, horizontally climbing toward that last car.
Shadow was way ahead of him, his long limbs moving smoothly as if he were a spider on its own net. Once he got confident, there was nothing left of the stumbling creature that could barely walk when it had crawled out of the submerged chest. Maybe he wouldn’t get in the way after all.
But as Gray followed Shadow into the noisy space between the two last cars and could finally breathe without being assaulted by wind, his sense of security was instantly diminished by the tall, bulky body pressing him against the metal ladder.
Gray shut his eyes, holding on to the side rails, and tried not to think. Surely, if Shadow wanted to assault him again, he’d have chosen a more convenient opportunity. The way over the cars couldn’t have taken more than fifteen minutes, but it had felt like hours, and Gray’s hands and knees ached from being constantly tense throughout that time.
“It’s fine. You don’t have to hold me,” he said, way too late.
“Please don’t fall,” Shadow said, but he only pulled away slightly.
This was ridiculous. Gray had years of experience with all kinds of jobs, both with and without Mike. He was the man Magpie called when both mental and physical prowess were required, and he didn’t need anyone’s concern. Especially not from someone who was doing this for the first time.
“I can look after myself. As long as I have this arm, I will be safe,” he said to make sure Shadow didn’t take it back by accident. That was the one point he really needed to put across.
Now that he was standing in a more natural position, the constant movement of the car over tracks became less bothersome, and the sense of tremors traveling up and down his body slowly dispersed, leaving behind reliable, strong muscle that would not give up on him.
But all and any sense of relief melted off Gray when he noticed the lock on the door to the last train car. Unlike the rusty metal around it, the mechanism was brand new and shone as if it had been installed in preparation for tonight’s transport.
“Fuck,” he said but grabbed the handles on the last car, stepping over the constantly moving tracks below. His hands needed to be empty, so he quickly strapped himself to one of the railings before switching on his flashlight and examining the lock in more detail. The thing seemed complicated, and additionally protected with a cypher as suggested by the small keypad hidden under tempered glass.
He groaned and tapped the cover with his forehead, trying to think of something. Yet another thing Magpie had failed to mention. If it had even been something he’d known of in the first place. Gray was no hacker, but neither were any of his brothers. None of them could have helped if they were there. This was still a one-man job, and Gray would excel at it, the same way he had before his accident.
“We need to open it?” Shadow asked, again standing all too close to Gray’s ear, and the buzz of his voice was like a fly Gray couldn’t swat away.
Gray counted to three and took his time to look back, hunching his shoulders when he heard the hollow sound of the train swishing through a tunnel ahead. “Yes, I need to open this.”
Shadow butted in, and before Gray could berate him, a black substance seeped through the fabric of Shadow’s top. With hair rising on his nape, Gray watched the stuff thicken and form a tentacle-like limb. Its tip, narrow and distinctly unlike a hand, reached the keypad. Within seconds, a nasty crack of metal made Gray flinch, but it couldn’t have been accidental, because for once Shadow seemed perfectly focused. Gray would remember that Shadow was also useful as a picklock.