My body went numb as the phone in my hands started to ring. It wasn’t Lily calling me back; it was an unknown number. My heart was in my throat as I held the receiver up to my ear.
“Hello?”
There was a familiar laugh, but this time it sounded… evil. I shuddered. “Hello, Zed,” Peyton’s voice growled out. “Figure things out yet?”
“Fuck you. I hate you. I’m going to fucking tear you apart, you asshole. Do you realize that?”
Peyton laughed again, a growling, menacing sound. I shuddered and instinctively reached for the knife at my waistband, forgetting that we weren’t in the same room. “You can do whatever you want, Zedy,” he said in a sing-song voice. “As long as you come to me by midnight, I don’t give a fuck what you do, you got that?”
“Where’s Lily?” I growled. “You better fucking tell me, asshole.”
“She’s here,” Peyton said with a low chuckle. “She and her sweet little ass are right next to me in this room. You wanna say hi? She’s gonna meet a nice little end if you can’t come by midnight, big boy. Just like your sweet sister, Rose.”
The mention of Rose made my blood boil, and I stamped my foot on the ground in rage. “You don’t fucking have her,” I retorted. “She’s probably not even with you.”
“You wanna hear her say hi?” Peyton asked. There was a rustling sound and a muffled thump, and I heard a female scream. The sound chilled me to the bone, the hair on the back of my neck standing up.
“Lily?” I asked in disbelief. “Is that you?”
“Zed!” I heard her scream my name and the sound made me shiver. “Help me!”
“Fuck,” I muttered. “Peyton, where the fuck are you? Where the fuck is she?”
“She’s with me, baby,” Peyton said. “Sounds like she misses you a whole lot. You think I should give her something to help her out a little bit?”
“Fuck you. Don’t lay a fucking finger on her or you’re dead!”
“But I’m gonna be dead anyway. Why don’t I have myself a little fun in the process?”
I threw the phone at the concrete below me. It shattered into tiny pieces, and I grunted, sprinting back to the parking lot and hopping inside my car. There was only one place they could be: the Iron Angels’ warehouse on the outskirts of town.
I sat in the car for a moment, thinking. I didn’t think they could have grabbed Lily out from under my nose. When had they found the time? My heart sank as I realized she was scheduled to work at the daycare center today. They must have gotten her when she was on her way to her car.
For a moment, I wondered if any of the kids she loved so much had seen her get attacked, and I silently hoped they hadn’t. Then, when I realized what I was dwelling on, I shook my head angrily. Now was not the right time to be feeling bad for a bunch of little snot-nosed brats.
Peyton said that I had until midnight. Knowing him, he was going to fuck with me until I turned myself in. I hated knowing that he and the gang had Lily, but if they already had her, there wasn’t a lot I could do at the moment.
I thought about all of the supplies I’d need before I went out there to fight him. Peyton was a strong guy, taller than me, more muscular, and with a hell of a lot of weapons. I shuddered thinking about his “weird creepy knife”—his machete. I felt like the world’s biggest idiot for not listening to Lily sooner, but how could I have known?
I would need at least one gun and a lot of ammo. There were some dealers that I knew, but no one I’d be able to meet with on such short notice. Every time I tried to concentrate, it felt like my brain was short-circuiting. I was going to have to find some deadly shit—fast.
Driving downtown, I walked into the bar frequented by The Manticore. The old man behind the bar recognized me and shivered. I shook my head; I didn’t want to spend the whole time convincing him that I wasn’t here to kill him.
“Relax,” I said, holding my hands out in front of me. “I’m not going to hurt you again.”
The man shook his head and backed away. “What do you want?” he asked me in this odd, stilted voice. “What can I possibly tell you now?”
“I know where he is—he called me. It wasn’t who I thought, old man, not at all.”
The old man squinted at me. “You can’t have come to me for help,” he said in disbelief. “I’m powerless. I’m just an old man with a bar.”
“I need a gun,” I hissed out. “And a few rounds. The Manticore and his thugs stole my friend, and I need to make sure she gets out alive.”
The old man threw his head back and laughed. I wanted to punch him. “What the fuck? Come on, what the fuck is so fucking funny?”
“She’s gone, boy.” The man laughed. For a moment, his patronizing tone sounded exactly like Peyton, and I balled my hands into my fists at my sides and growled. He looked chastened but gave me a warning look all the same.
“Help me,” I said, my tone biting. “I need to save her.”
“It’s probably a lost cause, you know that, right?” The old man sucked in air through the gap in his front teeth. “But I got a gun behind the bar here that I can sell you, if you need.”
I shook my head. “I can’t pay, man. I’ll pay you later. I’ll pay you double, but it’s gonna have to wait. Let me see.”
I saw the old man hesitate and then slowly reach under the bar. He came back with a sawed-off shotgun and placed it on the bar in front of me. I could see where the serial number had been scratched out.
“This is all I have,” he said quietly. “You can pay me later.”
I rolled my eyes. “Do you have ammo for it? I need a few rounds.”
The old man shook his head. “No, I haven’t needed things like that in a long time.” He gave me a rueful look. “Just when I thought this shit was over and done, you have to go bringing it back into my bar.”
“Hey,” I said on the defensive. “I’m not doing anything; I didn’t ask the fucking Manticore to start coming into your bar. At least you’re getting some fucking business!” I slammed my hand down on the bar, and a cloud of dust rose up around the shotgun; I could tell it hadn’t been used in years.
The old man shook his head. “I just want peace,” he grumbled. “I’m too old to deal with this shit anymore.”
I narrowed my eyes and grabbed the gun with one hand. “You have any idea where I can get some ammo for this fucker?”
The old man tilted his head. “Try a pawn shop,” he advised. “Do anything, just get out of my bar. Bring back the gun when you’re done with it.”
“Are you fucking serious? You’re not worried about the cops coming around here?”
The old man laughed heartily, throwing his head back and exposing a mouth full of rotten teeth. “What do I have to be afraid of?” he asked, still laughing. “What’s going to happen to me now? I’m an old man.”
Crazy old bastard, I thought as I hefted the sawed-off shotgun outside and tried to look like I had every right to be carrying an illegal weapon openly on the streets of Detroit.
There was a pawnshop on the next block, and I stormed inside, carrying the gun in one hand and whistling. If I was going to go out, I might as well go out blazing, right?
The woman behind the counter screamed when she saw me. She almost looked a little like Lily—if Lily were fat, middle-aged, and had no teeth. They had the same big gray eyes and dark hair, and I shook my head at the absurd nature of seeing her everywhere.
“Relax,” I said in a low voice. “I’m not going to hurt you.”