Page 13 of Broken Kingdom

Ford

The good news is that the borough hall of records is only half a mile from the helicopter pad and just a few blocks from Jean-Paul’s compound. The bad news is that the woman at the desk isn’t in the mood to bend the rules or hand out any favors.

“Five to ten business days,” she says again in response to Catherine’s gentle insistence that obtaining these records is a matter of utmost importance. “You’ll get a phone call when your files are ready to be picked up.”

“Five to ten days will be too late,” I say, lowering my voice and threading my fingers together atop the counter at the request window. “Our friend is in trouble. I know it probably doesn’t make sense, but these building plans could mean the difference between good things for her—”

“And very, very bad things,” Layla cuts in, giving the woman the bear shifter version of puppy dog eyes. “Please, ma’am. We’re just trying to look out for someone we love, and we’d really appreciate your help.”

The woman’s painted on brows arch higher on her doughy face. “If the situation is that serious, I suggest you call the police. There’s nothing I can do for you—or your friend—today.” She pushes away from the desk and slides off her stool with a grunt, tossing over her shoulder as she moves deeper into the office space, “Five to ten business days. We’ll call you.”

Layla curses beneath her breath. “That’s literally never happened before. The big glassy eyes always win the mean grandma types over in the end.”

“It’s all right,” Catherine says, nibbling on her bottom lip as she turns away from the desk. “I have another idea.” She pulls her cell from her pocket and pulls up a browser screen. “Sometimes larger cities have maps of their sewer systems online. For construction firms and people doing home renovation and things, so they don’t accidentally dig up or damage something they shouldn’t. Give me a few minutes to see what I can find.”

She and Layla settle onto a long wooden bench in the airy lobby of the old gothic building, and I head over to a newspaper stand to buy protein bars and some decent looking apples. In all the chaos of the morning, I haven’t eaten anything since late last night, and the others could probably use a snack, too.

If we do need to shift back and forth from our human forms in rapid succession, we’ll need calories to burn.

By the time I arrive back at the bench, Catherine has located the sewer map and is homing in on the area near the botanical gardens. “It looks like there’s a main line here, right next to the street, and at least three slightly smaller offshoots leading into the compound. Not to mention a manhole right across the street.” She glances at me over her shoulder, her expression hopeful. “I think I can make it in.”

“Good.” I hand the bars and apples over. “Eat up and then we’re going shopping.”

Layla frowns. “Shopping?”

“I saw a store a few blocks over. I need something to cover my face. A hat or a hoodie that actually fits or something. I only met Jean-Paul and his higher ups briefly, but there’s a chance he’ll recognize me if he sees my face on a security feed. And you know he has cameras all over those walls.”

Layla snorts. “Boy, a bigger hoodie isn’t going to work. Have you looked in the mirror lately? You are literally the most enormous man in the world.”

“I knew a man who was taller when I was growing up,” Catherine says. “But he had a glandular disorder, and he wasn’t nearly as broad. It’s the shoulders that really stand out.”

“And the head,” Layla agrees. “Who has a head that big? Can you even wear hats made for normal people? Or do you have to special order?”

“My head is a normal size.” I bite off a hunk of my protein bar and chew crankily, feeling attacked. “And big muscles come in handy at times, you know.”

“They do,” Catherine agrees, “but I don’t think right now is one of them. I think it’s best if Layla is the one to drop me by the compound and make sure I get into the manhole. You can wait a few blocks away, ready to back us up. I need to be close to get inside in my hedgehog form, but I can meet up with you both at a manhole somewhere safer and farther away, once I shift and have legs again. Sewers are less dangerous for people than tiny, edible creatures.”

I shake my head. “No way. I should be there with you guys. And how are we going to communicate with you once you’re inside or know if you need help? Even if you could carry a cell phone as a hedgehog, it would be destroyed by the time you swam through sewer water.”

Layla pulls a face. “Kudos to you for that, though. I’d jump into shit for you guys, too, but I’m glad I don’t have to.”

“I have an idea about that,” Catherine says, “but we’ll need to find a department store, something with a decent-sized toy section. My little cousin was playing with waterproof walkie-talkies at the beach a few summers ago. They were bright pink, but they worked great, even when she was way on one side of the sand, and I was on the other. If we’re lucky, they’re still available for sale.”

“Then let’s go find some,” Layla says, rising from the bench. “Not to be negative, but the longer we’re here, the worse my heebie-jeebies are getting. We should get Juliet and get the hell out of here. There’s something bad in this city, something that’s giving me major dark-sided vibes.”

I frown. “Like what?”

“Yeah, I don’t feel anything,” Catherine says, before nodding toward the records’ desk. “Though if that woman were a succubus that feeds on frustration, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Layla shakes her head as we start toward the exit. “I don’t know. I just… Sometimes I can sense when especially dangerous supernatural things are around. My grandmother could, too. That’s how she got her job in Parallel Atlanta when I was a kid. She worked security at one of the portals between the worlds. Kind of like an TSA person, except instead of just checking bags and pockets, she checked vibes, too. She kept supernatural things pretending to be shifters or vampires or whatever from being allowed to cross between worlds. At least in the Parallel, their prey had a fighting chance.”

I hold the door open for the others as we emerge into the afternoon sun. It’s already past twelve and we have no idea how much time we have before Hammer contacts Jean-Paul or what’s happening to Juliet while we roam around the city getting our shit together. It makes me want to rush right over to the botanical gardens and tunnel under the wall in my wolf form, but if it were that easy to get in, Jean-Paul wouldn’t have held his fortress for this long.

The steps we’re taking to prepare are necessary, but still frustrating.

I suppose that might explain why I’m only listening to Layla and Catherine’s conversation with half an ear until Layla says, “Yeah, dragon shifters aren’t extinct, either. Most of them are trapped in a cursed alternate timeline somewhere, but every now and then they would find ways into the Parallel. Gram had to take them down with a taser right away, to keep them from shifting into giant, fire-breathing monsters before the authorities could send them back into their own dimension. But the worst were these nuckelavee things.”

I jerk my head her way. “The Scottish horse demons?”

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