A Book of Spirits and Thieves (Spirits and Thieves #1)(93)

Sorry, I’m on a date with Felicity, he answered. Won’t be home for a couple hours.

Sam was driving them to the same cathedral where he’d met Lucas on the day of his fateful meeting with Markus. It seemed like a thousand years ago—back when he’d been full of doubt about what was to come, back when he’d still been so tormented by his older brother’s suicide.

So much had changed in a matter of days. Now he barely thought about Connor at all. The dead were gone—no reason to give them any further thought.

Sam pulled the limo up to the curb and opened the back door, averting his eyes as Farrell and Crys got out. The chauffeur knew something was up but was smart not to ask any questions.

“You can head off now, Sam. I’ll call you when I’m done,” Farrell told him.

“Yes, sir.” Sam glanced at Crys for a split second before he got back in the car and drove away.

“All right, let’s go,” Farrell said. “And just a warning: If you draw any attention to us, you’ll regret it. Markus said a blindfold isn’t necessary this time, but I’m sure he’d be fine with a gag.”

“Screaming my head off right now won’t help my sister, will it?”

“I’m glad we understand each other.”

He took her by her elbow and directed her to the rear of the cathedral, to the tunnel entrance. He pulled up the piece of plywood, and she stared down at the darkness beneath.

“There’s stairs,” he said. “Let’s go. Markus is waiting.”

She drew her eyeglasses out of her bag and put them on, pushing them up her nose. A quick glimpse inside her bag also revealed the Canon Rebel he’d given her as a gift.

“So I see you’re all ready to take the perfect shot,” he said.

“It probably won’t happen tonight.”

“Probably not. Now, those stairs I mentioned a moment ago? Let’s start moving.”

Crys bit her bottom lip but didn’t protest. She slipped past the plywood plank he held up, found her footing, and then began her descent.

He knew how she felt, unsure of her next step, worried she might take a devastating fall. For him it was completely different. It only took a minute for his newly improved senses to kick in, and he could see as well as day in the darkness.

Farrell watched as she fumbled her way down the stairs, a mix of trepidation and determination on her face.

“Chin up, buttercup,” he said. “It’s not the end of the world.”

“Bite me.”

“Maybe later.”

They reached the bottom of the stairs and moved toward the meager glow of the flickering light about fifty paces ahead. Farrell had come to learn that all these tunnels had been created and maintained by Markus, and that they all connected with one another in an underground maze. One could get from the restaurant to the theater and from the cathedral to Markus’s home, and vice versa, if one knew the proper turns, and there were several entrances hidden all over the city.

“Is she giving you a hard time, Farrell?” Lucas was waiting around the next corner, leaning against the wall. He had a bandage across his bruised and swollen nose.

“Don’t worry, I can handle her.”

Crys stopped walking and stared at Lucas. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“It’s Crys, right?” Lucas grinned. “Really sorry for what happened the other day. I was just playing a part to help out a friend. Then again”—he pointed to his face—“you did break my nose, so maybe you should be the one apologizing.”

She gave him the finger.

“Nice.” He laughed. “So that’s the infamous book, is it?”

“It is,” Farrell confirmed.

“Follow me.” Lucas led them to the spiral staircase leading to the iron door covered in symbols. He opened the door and gestured for Crys and Farrell to go through. “After you.”

Farrell had never been in Markus’s theater when it wasn’t filled up for a society meeting. Today it felt cavernous—larger and more ominous than he’d ever seen it.

Crys drew in a sharp breath. “Becca.”

Farrell followed her gaze to the stage. The curtains were drawn to reveal a pretty blond girl in a hospital gown and bare feet lying on a table, like an image out of a fairy tale. Too bad there were no Prince Charmings nearby to administer magical kisses.

Crys took a step toward the stage but then faltered as Markus moved out of the shadows and stood next to Becca. He wore a tailored suit, black on black. Accompanying him was the man who’d first let Farrell and Lucas into Markus’s study.

“As you can see, Ms. Hatcher,” Markus said, “your sister is perfectly fine.”

“You call this fine?” Crys snarled. “Dad, how could you have let this happen?”

Dad? Farrell and Lucas exchanged a surprised glance.

“You chose this outcome, Crys,” the other man said. “But I’m very glad you’re here to make this right. Give Markus the Codex.”

Crys raised her chin. “Why doesn’t he come over here and take it from me?”

Farrell stifled a laugh before another one escaped. What the girl lacked in common sense, she made up for in guts.

A smile now played at Markus’s lips. A dangerous smile.