Page 72 of Terror at the Gates

I scribbled down what I could remember about my surroundings and lines from whispered prayers.

Drink sweetly from the grail,

The holy blood, the venom, the ecstasy of night.

Unleash your fury, your eternal wail.

Break these chains, these binding gates.

I thought about Tori’s warnings.

I didn’t think it was a coincidence that my dreams and Tori had warned about the gates. I might not have thought that had Lisk not had him killed, but it made sense to me that the archbishop would want to eliminate anyone who drew attention to whatever was locked behind those doors, especially if it threatened the power of the church.

Maybe it was demons.

Maybe it was gods.

But I was going to find out.

When I was finished writing out my notes, I got ready to leave.

“It’s just you and me, kid,” I said, staring down at Cherub, who wasn’t listening. She was too busy battling a loose thread on my comforter, not that I thought she actually understood anything I was saying. I’d been talking to her since Coco left, and her responses fell into two categories—staring and sleeping. Playing was new.

I sighed, resting my hands on my hips as I watched her.

I had no choice but to bring her with me, which wasn’t ideal, but I couldn’t leave her here alone.

I looked around my room for something I could use to carry her.

After some digging, I found a long scarf and fashioned a type of sling so I could keep her in front of me. I half wondered if it was a good idea to have her tiny claws so close to my boobs, but it wasn’t like she had much to grab on to, so maybe it’d be fine.

“All right, little one,” I said, then winced at how easily I’dused Zahariev’s former nickname for me. I kind of wanted to wash my mouth out with soap. “Let’s try this.”

I picked her up and slipped her into the fold of the scarf. She sat still, almost like she was confused by what was happening, her furry head peeking out from the opening.

I turned to look in my full-length mirror and laughed.

“We look ridiculous,” I said.

Cherub looked up at me as if to askwho are you calling ridiculous?

“Okay, fair.Ilook ridiculous.”

And I sounded ridiculous too, but honestly, of all the things that had happened in my life the last few weeks, this was the most normal of all of them, and I kind of liked it. It was grounding.

“Let’s pack you some water and food,” I said.

Lisk had taken Coco’s larger backpack, so all I had was a small one I’d used as a purse a few times—until some stealthy pickpockets stole my wallet. At least if they tried to steal this time, all they’d get away with was some cat food.

I slipped on my jacket and then the backpack.

I holstered my new gun. I was anxious about carrying it because I hadn’t used it yet, though I imagined Zahariev—or one of his men—had cleaned it and fired a few shots. The point was I wasn’t used to it, and I didn’t really like that, but at least I had a weapon, because I wasn’t about to go into Gomorrah unarmed or carry that fucking knife.

I glared at the top drawer of my nightstand. I hoped it could feel my disdain.

I left my apartment with Cherub. She was quiet as I headed down Procession Street. The sidewalks were a little more crowded than the night before, mostly people living with addiction who couldn’t stay away from the clubs formore than a day or so. A few cast me looks, anywhere from quizzical to amused, but no one tried to talk to me, for which I was grateful. It probably had something to do with my expression. While I didn’t know exactly what look I was giving, I knew the energy. I was determined and a little pissed thanks to Zahariev, ready to shove anyone out of my way if needed.

I crossed Procession Street and took Twelfth, passing the mossy stone walls of Southgate Cemetery, which took me into the southernmost part of Gomorrah. Abram wasn’t my only customer, but he usually bought what I had, even when he gave me a hard time. Others weren’t so easy. A few had clients, crits in Hiram and Temple City who wanted certain artifacts, things that sent me to sketchy shops to deal with sketchier people.

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