Except James had an ulterior motive.
Roman exhales slowly beside Juliet. His arms are crossed over his chest, eyes scanning every inch of the facade. “Well, let’s see what your right-hand man was really up to."
This is purely a residential building. There is no doorman, so at least we don’t have to talk our way in, even though Ares owns the building. We walk right on in and head to the stairs behind a closed door. The air is colder, and the proof of the building’s age is instant.
A chill works its way down my arms as we descend, and it feels a little like stepping back in time. I imagine Thaddeus visiting this building at night, when the work crews had left, coming through the skeleton of the building for a place to hide something ancient and sinister.
When we step out onto the floor of the sub-basement, the mood shifts. The light flickers overhead. Paint peels in strips down the walls. It smells like metal and mildew.
"Charming," Juliet mutters.
We move through a hallway, checking doors as we go. There are old boxes down here, though not many. There’s a few forgotten pieces of furniture. There are old buckets of paint and a few trashed tools. Finally, at the end of the hall, we find a locked maintenance door. Ares pulls up something on his phone. He owns dozens of buildings; there’s no way he’s got every code for every place memorized. A few seconds later, he finds what he’s looking for and keys in a code. It buzzes open.
Inside is a storage area filled with discarded drywall sheets, rusted pipes, and coils of wire. No surveillance cameras. No signs of recent construction. But the dust on the floor—it's wrong. There's a faint trail where something heavy was dragged.
Roman crouches down, eying it. "These are fresh. I’d say in the last day or so."
We follow the trail around a corner.
It’s damn obvious when we spot it.
There’s a section of wall that’s been broken up by the sledgehammer leaning against the wall. There is a crack stretching out from it, along the wall, that makes me nervous to be down here in this basement.
But there is a wide-open maw in the concrete, and inside it is a small chamber, maybe four feet wide, three feet deep, and three feet tall.
“I think we found the place,” Sysco says as he blows out air between his lips and rubs a hand through his hair.
“Not before James retrieved the bones,” Roman states.
Because the secret chamber is empty.
Inside, there’s a clear square on the floor, dust showing the place the chest rested for nearly a century. But there’s a path disturbing it and it’s clear to tell where it was retrieved and pulled from its hiding place.
Ares clenches his jaw. "He has them. He found the bones, and we probably just missed it by hours."
"And now he has Markus," I whisper. My skin goes cold.
Roman steps back, folding his arms over his chest. "He's got everything he needs. We’re not hunting for the bones anymore. We're hunting the resurrection."
"And we have no idea where or when that will happen," Sysco adds grimly.
We stare at the empty alcove for a long time. The silence feels final.
Ares' voice is low, guttural. "We’re running out of time."
I can feel the weight of it. The absence of those bones screams louder than any siren.
We turn and go. But the gravity of the situation is suffocating.
He’s already moving. And we’re just trying to catch his shadow.
Chapter 15
"He’s not answering," Ares mutters, lowering his phone like he wants to crush it in his hand. The hard line of his jaw tells me exactly how much restraint he’s using.
Roman sits across from him, arms folded, that unreadable calm over his features. "He knows you’re onto him."
“He kind of gave himself away that something was up when he threw a damn tantrum on Ophelia,” Juliet says dryly.
