The Blood Order (Fanghunters Book Two) (44 page)

Staring at all those boxes made her dizzy; she grabbed her head and rubbed.

"This is a final warning for Trixie Beau-chump,"
a gruff voice reverberated around her, severing her train of thought. She looked up to the ceiling.
"The great vampire Leviah is now declared royally pissed that you've not only made a no-show, but you decided to wipe out the upper echelons of the Blood Order. Now, he's a forgiving soul. If you don't hand yourself in within the next ten minutes, then the runt will lose an arm. And then another limb for every ten minutes of no-show after that till he bleeds to death, at which point the boss will get to work on the old man. You got ten minutes, Trixie. Ten. Don't waste any more time."

Her eyes widened. She'd finally reached that point of no return. They were starting to use Dad and Dom as bait. She'd exhausted any time she had. Although she'd made good progress up to Leviah's nest, she still had a way to go. She was on the eighty-eighth. She had ten minutes to make it up to the ninety-seventh or Dom would get some treatment.

She threw the vials of Ambrosia to the side and raced through the rest of the Kronos storeroom and out into the stairwell. She cleared one set of stairs, then another unimpeded.

Ninety.
Man, oh man, I'm so close.

From the ground floor all the way up to ninety. She took a moment to glance up the stairwell. Now, she could see the ceiling. The roof, where she'd been just a few hours before, which now felt like a millennium. The roof, where Mack was hopefully still waiting for them. It was a bland, white haven. The thing she'd been aiming for all night. She looked down and the floor vanished in a dizzying pit of darkness. She pulled back and began climbing stairs again. Her hands hurt, her throat hurt, her legs were starting to ache from all the climbing. Her heart was beating hard and steady, adrenaline the fuel she was now running on. It burned through her like liquid fire, charging her for the final assault. She'd need every ounce of strength she had left in her battered body if she was gonna make it through this and save Dad and Dom.

Ninety-one. Six more floors. Her spine began to tingle with more ferocity.
Was it the effect of Leviah, or was it excitement?
She couldn't quite tell; besides, she was way too tired to even contemplate it. She cleared more stairs.

Ninety-two. And not a Blacklake or vamp in sight.
Looks like they've given up.

"I wouldn't bank on that," she said to herself.

She'd taken a lot of them out of the game, yeah, but there still had to be more of them around somewhere. They could pop out to greet her at any moment; this wasn't the time to get complacent. With a groan and a strain in her knee, she climbed the last step up to ninety-three. "Keep going, Trixie. Keep going," she urged herself. "Make it!" She pushed herself up to ninety-four, the huge number on the wall glaring back at her.

A noise startled her. She pressed herself up against the nine and listened. Radio chatter was going on somewhere up above her. Blacklake were most probably congregated in and around the ninety-seventh, protecting the nest. She should've foreseen that. She huffed and checked her watch. 5:54. She had six minutes to make contact before their promise of hurting Dom came to fruition. She looked away in anger and assessed the situation asap. She could either face them head on and hope there were only a few of them to deal with, give herself in (yeah, right!), or find another way up to the ninety-seventh.

It's a no brainer,
she thought to herself.
I've come this far, I'm gonna finish this.

So, it was option one or three.

She listened in once more. There were multiple radios chattering up there. That put option one out of the question; it was way too much of a risk. She blew her cheeks as she worked on a plan. The stairwells above were now blocked. The elevator was out of the question. There had to be another way.

The radio chatter grew louder, indicating they were heading her way. "Quelle surprise," she whispered to herself with an ironic grin. She dipped straight into floor ninety-five like a pool of quicksilver. Once in there, she hugged the wall and waited. She knew she didn't have time to waste, so she took the opportunity to work on a way up to the ninety-seventh. The ninety-fifth was a vast open space. Loungers and more tables and chairs were laid out on the customary smoke-gray carpet. The whole floor was lit up with a dull blue haze, giving the floor a cave-like ambiance. She scanned the area, looking for answers. Over to the left was the elevator. Out of the question. She rocked on her heels. Her eyes fell on the windows, more pertinently, the observation deck; a glass box jutting out of the building for visitors to take in a bird's eye view of Chicago.

A crazy idea sprang up in her mind. She instantly shook her head. "Oh no, no, no, no, no way, Trixie," she said to herself with wide eyes. "No way."

She then realized it was the only way up.

She grabbed her forehead. Then checked her watch. 5:56. She didn't have time for debate.

She huffed and approached the observation deck like she was walking to the dentist's chair. She stepped inside the box, her boots clacking against the glass floor. She stared out of the glass; Chicago sprawled out far and wide. Below her feet, a hundred stories fell all the way down to a distant ground. She shivered with vertigo. She glanced up. The protruding deck had a glass roof. If she could get up on top of it, she could get up to the next floor.

She grabbed her head, a sudden bout of dizziness rocking her.
I can't believe I'm even contemplating this.
"No way. No way!" she said to the glass box.

But, it was the only clear way. And she knew it. She had to get up there quick to save them.

She closed her eyes. "Why me?" she groaned. "I told him I didn't want to get involved in any of this vamp hunting crap!"

But, the cold truth was that she either did it, or Dad and Dom died.

She opened her eyes again and grumbled to herself in anger. She then spun away to go and snatch up a chair. She took it to the observation deck, setting it down on the glass floor. "I must be crazy," she stated as she stood on the chair and checked the roof for some kind of latch. It was made up of two glass panels, each of them locked with three small latches. Trixie reached up for one and tried to open it. It was stiff from under usage, but with a hard squeeze it popped open. She unlatched the other three and then pushed the panel up; it became ajar. A gush of ice-cold air flooded in, shivering her to her bones. She pushed the panel fully open to be greeted by the ever-brightening sky. She then reached up and grabbed the edges of the glass enclosure. Her palms stung.

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and then hoisted herself up. In an instant, the atmosphere morphed from confined office drudgery to free-as-a-bird open air. Her hands screamed, but she took the pain, levering herself up, planting her butt down on the adjacent panel. The cold air bit into her, the outside world a dizzying, endless vacuum. She threw her legs up and across, before getting on her knees and shuffling along to the edge.

"Oh my God, what am I doing? What the HELL AM I DOING?" she screamed in anger as she turned and popped the roof window shut once more, with no way of levering it back open. Now she was permanently locked outside. The thought was beyond terrifying.

"Don't look down, Trixie, don't look down," she told herself.

She looked down.

Ninety-odd stories of mayhem rushed up to her head, sending it on a carousel of horror. She panicked. A hot gasp bolted from her chest and she slipped back, her midriff hitting the thin ledge separating the floors behind her. She gripped onto the ledge for dear life, her eyes shut tight, her body juddering. "This isn't really happening, this isn't really happening!" she gibbered. But, the cold morning air smothering her defied that hope. She popped her eyes open again; the world sprawled away ahead of her: a blue, green, and gray collage of urban and suburban life set against a clear light-blue sky. Huge buildings stuck out of the ground like mere matchsticks, the streets dotted with toy-like cars. Any people walking around were nothing but dots. High above it all, a brilliant dawn sun bathed the world with its first rays of the day. The view was breathtaking, staggering, but hellish in its reality.

Her stomach churned, a sudden giddiness overcoming her like she was drunk. "My God. Why? Why? WHY?" she shrieked. No one heard her.

A flock of birds passed by, gliding effortlessly through this crazy height like it was nothing. She let out a crazed giggle as she watched them fly by, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Oh
,
why can't I be like you? Just like you." They made it look so easy.

The lead bird squawked before they all vanished around the side of the huge building.

She sucked in a shuddery breath. The air was the cleanest and crispest she'd ever inhaled, but it burned like the fires of Hell. She couldn't move, fear had her rooted. She glanced down; her knuckles were bone white from gripping onto the ledge.

"Come on, Trixie. You gotta get moving!" she urged herself, realizing the seconds were ticking by.

She sucked in a huge breath. She wiped her bleary eyes and then bravely ventured to slide her back up the wall and glass behind her. She made it upright and it was even worse. The world spun like a kaleidoscope. Fresh tears burst from her eyes. The fear was overwhelming. It was dream-like but horribly real. So real it was almost unbelievable. Her legs trembled, her head whirled. "Why! Why! Why!" she cried. "I should've just given myself in!"

A gust of wind then picked up and cut right into her. The tears on her cheeks burned icy cold. She pressed herself up against the wall like a piece of Velcro, willing the wind to stop. It pushed her head to the side and she cried more. "Please leave me alone. Please leave me alone!" she shouted against it. "Please!"

The wind showed mercy; it died down and some semblance of calm took over. Her breathing began to slow, her head starting to clear, her senses thankfully growing accustomed to the alien surroundings. "Okay," she whispered to herself. "Let's get moving."

She turned on the spot to face the building. Glass panels surrounded with strips of wall stared back at her. She ignored what was going on behind her and looked around for any nooks and crannies to get some purchase. There was the ledge she'd been holding onto beneath the window ahead of her; she now saw it was about the width of half her foot. Not great, but better than nothing. She jammed both her feet into the gap between the ledge and the window pane until the bridges of her feet hurt. She then looked left and right. Around the edges of the window panes were thin grooves, just big enough for her tiny fingers. She squeezed both of her hands into the grooves and curled her fingers around as much as she could. They locked her in, the bandages wrapped around her fingers ironically giving her a better grip. Suddenly, she felt more secure; the wind would have a hard time unsticking her now.

Right on cue, the wind picked up for a brief moment. Trixie pressed herself against the glass and closed her eyes, willing the wind to calm. The whole time, she felt more solid, less susceptible to being blown away. The wind petered out and she opened her eyes again. "Okay," she said. And then looked up. She laid eyes on the top of the building and that dizziness rocked her again, this time from a reverse angle. Among the haze, she spotted the ninety-seventh floor. Her destination. Two glass panes represented one floor, with a similar ledge to the one she was standing on separating each floor. Right now her feet were wedged between the ledge and bottom glass panel of the ninety-sixth, the protruding observation deck having cut out the ninety-fifth entirely. It meant she only had to get up to the ledge above her, two panes away.

As easy as that, huh?

"Oh God..."

She sucked in a lungful of icy air before she began to slide her right hand up the side of the pane, her cheek pressed against the glass. She reached the top edge of the pane, sliding past the small gap between the upper and lower pane of floor ninety-six. She pushed her hand along the upper pane as far as she could, before she sent her left hand up the opposite edge to join it. With each passing moment, butterflies flew with more freedom in her stomach, causing nausea to grow more intense. She ignored her discomfort as she slid her hand up past the gap separating the panes, and then along the upper panel of ninety-six as far as she could. Once there, she tightened her grip on the upper pane with both hands. Now she had to get her feet up into that gap between the panes. And that was the fun part...

She paused, taking a moment to steady herself. She puffed her cheeks. "I'll never see Spiderman the same way again," she said before she raised a tentative foot up toward the tiny groove between the panes, fear surging through her.

A moment of panic rocked her.

She abruptly pulled her leg back and jammed her foot into the ledge once more. "I can't do it! I can't do it!" she cried. Her head collapsed against the pane ahead of her.

She stayed that way for a few seconds. Just enough time for her strength to gather. She didn't have time to waste. She had to get moving. She had no choice.

"Come on, Trixie, you've got to do it
,
" she then said to herself through gritted teeth. "You've got to. It's only one floor. You can do it!"

She reopened her eyes. "Okay, come on, let's try that again."