Wake

Chapter 19

Lucie

I didn't feel good about this at all.

On the car ride here, I'd tried to tell Vinny that I wasn't a ghost like he'd been, that I couldn't do all the same things. It had been a useless argument. He'd asked, "But the average person can't see you, right?"

I'd grumbled, "Yes."

"Case closed, then."

And the case was closed, because he shut his mouth and refused to bicker with me—or talk to me at all, really—until we'd reached our destination. It was a lot more frustrating than I wanted to admit, how I could try to make a point and, instead of responding, he'd just raise his eyebrows and do something rather than talking, like change the radio station or roll down the window.

Vinny could be clever when he wanted to be.

"It's simple, really," Vinny said now, at my shoulder. He, Caprice, and I were peering from around the corner of the surf shop the bar sat next to, examining our surroundings. The bar was hidden in somewhat of a blue and red haze, conjured by the flickering lights of the police cars. Police tape, glaring yellow, marked off the bar's perimeter, officers moving within and beyond it, in and out like the tides. "They can't see you. You can do whatever you want."

I slid back around the corner, slumping against the surf shop's exterior. Fog hung thick in the air, filling it with the scent of dewy grass and saltwater. "I can't make a scene when no one can see it."

"That's where you're wrong," Caprice cut in. She glimpsed me over her shoulder, which her top left gracefully exposed. I'd thought an angel would be more modest, but after knowing angels for almost six months, dating one, I was well aware they weren't all the pristine, flawless beings everyone thought they were. "You break some stuff, barricade the doors, and they won't know what hit them. Soon as you've got them out for the time being, Vinny and I will make our way in."

"I don't even know if I want to go in. All that blood—"

"Lulu."

My head snapped up; Vinny had turned and was looking at me, his eyes a deeper sapphire in the shadows. There was an encouraging smile on his face that caused an ache in my chest; his strength, his ambition, would never cease to stun me. "We might find a clue as to where Cian is if we go in," he said, "and we do have to find him. I never said it was going to be easy, but it's not an option."

I eyed him for a moment longer, then got to my feet. "That's weird."

Vinny's pale eyebrows twitched towards each other. "What is?"

"You called me Lulu," I explained, and saw a blush go to his cheeks. He looked away. "You don't usually do that."

"I'm sorry. If you don't want me to—"

"No, it's fine. We're close enough now, don't you think?" I replied. My back was to him then, but I could still feel his gaze burning into me, like a flame between my shoulder blades. "Besides," I added. "I like it."

I thought he was going to say something else, but there was only silence as I made my way towards the bar.

I half-expected someone to shout at me, but no one did, and I ducked under the police tape undetected. Closer up, I could hear the static of walkie-talkies, the warble of low voices: "...nearly decapitated...," "...seem to be stab wounds, teeth marks...," "no murder weapon."

I shuddered. Cian, you idiot. The day he managed not to get himself in some sort of trouble was the day pigs flew.

This, though, was unlike any other trouble he—we—had faced.