And Carver? As out of place as he was in a grubby restaurant wearing his finely tailored suit, he looked like a million bucks, with the manicured beard, the gems gleaming from every finger, his eyebrows angled in a way that expressed both curiosity and cockiness. Like Sterling, he’d healed all his injuries perfectly, despite claiming not to be a vampire. Hmm. Curiouser and curiouser.
There was Mama Rosa too, who I assumed was the owner of the place. Kind of a no-brainer, I guess, considering it was called Mama Rosa’s Fine Filipino Food. She was a hulking woman, with fists like hams, a face like a bulldog, and a ferocity to match. I hadn’t heard her speak a single word the entire time she served us, but she stood behind the counter with a grim expression, a cigarette tucked behind one ear, clearly listening to everything we said. I put on a smile to try and disarm her – not for any friendliness, but because we all know I have a pathological need to feel liked – but her stony veneer barely cracked.
I polished off the adobo, then stared longingly at my empty plate, strongly considering asking for seconds. Even knowing that Carver and the others seemed to be on friendly terms with Mama Rosa, I had a hunch that they wouldn’t try to poison me. Every last one of those four people in that restaurant, even Rosa – especially Rosa – could have easily killed me. I didn’t stand a chance, and they knew it, and they wouldn’t have had to resort to poison to do that.
“Mr. Graves is right, Sterling,” Carver said in a voice like spiced honey. “It was only a question, after all.” The corner of his mouth quirked. “And I’m certain he has many, many more.”
He could read my mind, I was almost sure of it. But whatever. Even if he could, that’d only make it easier to sort everything out.
“So,” I started. “You said that you knew what I was.”
Carver shrugged. “Not everything has to have a name.”
“But you’re a werewolf,” I said, nodding at Gil. He nodded back. “And you’re a vampire.” Sterling shrugged. “And you?”
Carver smiled, and spread both his hands. “The same as you. Or different, perhaps. Unique.” His chair scraped against the linoleum as he stood. The other two followed suit. “Come. You should see your new home.”
“Home?” I quirked an eyebrow, standing myself as I picked up my backpack.
“I give my associates living quarters. It’s safer for – for people like us.”
Reflexively, I reached for my wallet, nodding at Mama Rosa. Her expression remained unchanged.
“There’s really no need,” Carver said. “It’s on the house. Mama Rosa’s happy enough that you liked her cooking.”
I cast her another glance. She didn’t look happy at all. Matter of fact, she kind of looked like she wanted to rip my head off with her bare hands. Maybe that was just part of her charm. I followed as Carver, Sterling, and Gil headed to the kitchen.
“Uh, exit’s that way,” I said.
They ignored me. I shrugged. We walked a short way into the kitchen, Mama Rosa still stood up front, arms folded like a bouncer. We stopped by an industrial refrigerator.
I chuckled and rapped my knuckles against the patch of exposed brick wall right by it. “What is this, like, a secret door?”
Carver said nothing. Sterling frowned at me, his lip curled in an irritated sneer. “Dude. Just. Shut up, okay? Just watch.”
And so I did, keeping my teeth clenched the whole while. Carver drew a circle in midair, and I held my breath as his fingers left a trail of amber fire. He slid one finger across one of his many rings, which had a protuberant, tiny blade that I hadn’t noticed. A bead of blood formed at the tip of his finger. Sterling, I noticed, licked his lips.
The ring of fire settled into the brick wall, scorching a circle there. Carver pressed his bloodied finger against the brick. The crimson of his blood disappeared into the wall, and all at once the bricks slid apart, vanishing into nothingness, replaced by a shimmering, amber portal, orange like Carver’s eyes.
Sterling stepped through nonchalantly. Without giving me a second glance, Carver stepped into the portal as well, his body disappearing into the orange glow. I looked over my shoulder in confusion. Mama Rosa was at the till, counting out the day’s earnings. A hand pressed against my back.
“Get in,” Gil said gruffly.
Too late to run, I thought, but again, if these people wanted me dead, they could have done that earlier, and in very many, very creative ways. Fine. I pulled on my straps, walked through –
And found myself in a great hall made of the palest, smoothest stone. Thick, featureless pillars ran the length of it, hewn out of the same rock as the perfect floor. Golden-amber light spilled from fires I couldn’t see, hidden cleverly in alcoves between the columns. There was no ceiling, or if it was there, it was so high up since all I could spot was inky blackness.
Gil nudged me forward again, gently, but firmly. I walked along, too stunned to protest. What the hell was this? Carver kept his hideout in the back of some Filipino restaurant out by the Meathook?
Several feet along we met up with Carver and Sterling, who had stopped just in front of a stone formation. No, it was a statue, I could tell, but all I could see of it was its knees, as huge as it was, stretching up into the darkness. Gil fell into step with the rest of us, looking as unperturbed as Sterling by the sight of what looked to me to be the inside of some massive, ancient temple.
“You cast a circle to get us in here,” I said.
“Correct,” Carver said patiently.
“I thought only gods could do that.” I made no effort to hide my shock. “Keep realms and domiciles, I mean.”
“Maybe I am a god.”