Page 87 of Saint of the Shadows

Marisol hesitated while Tobias strapped his battered body back into his borrowed bulletproof vest. She wanted to shake Annie the first time Ruthven entered her lab and accessed the research. But Annie kept Marisol out for that very reason. She bit into her bottom lip. Ruthven would pay for trying to change the version of Annie that Marisol had to hold on to. She dashed to her equipment and suited up. With her boots, utility belt, bullet-proof vest, and gloves combined with their faded scrubs, she resembled an escaped patient.

In the SUV, the dashboard came alive under Vincent’s touch. As soon as they entered the light early morning traffic, technicolor computer scrawls traced the bottom of the front window. Staci worked a little harder with Vincent in charge.

The car crawled to the crooked chain-link fences of the abandoned industrial park. The morning sun peeked over the horizon. Marisol wiped her clammy hands on the car seat. If Vincent fell to Ruthven the first time, Ruthven wouldn’t fallas easily as she did to a pair of bolas. Vincent switched his aviator sunglasses with his heat vision goggles. The SUV stopped right at the barbed wire entrance to the Clark’s Slaughterhouse. “No one’s there.” He tossed his goggles aside and put his sunglasses back on.

Marisol touched the cross at her clavicle to steady her shaking hand.

The wind lifted a broken streamer of yellow police tape over the mouth of the open garage. Tobias rolled his ski mask to his forehead. “Looks like our stunt caught the SPD’s attention.”

Did Ruthven rip through the police like he had those gangsters? Marisol might need the other car seat to wipe her hands dry.

Vincent pulled an entire computer screen up on the front window, swiping through various blotters and news articles. “Nothing strange reported besides the arrest of a bunch of zip-tied gangsters with open warrants a mile long. He must’ve ditched them and broke out before the police arrived.” He punched the steering wheel.

“We got him once. We can do it again.” Marisol put her hand on top of his.

Vincent grimaced. “Againis a little complicated. You know the virus the W.H.O. reported missing recently?”

Marisol asked, “The one the news keeps burying on the back page?”

“He has it.”

Her heart dropped. “What does he get from that? This place is his city too.”

“He’s figuring if enough people get sick, he’ll force my hand, and Varian Pharmaceuticals will manufacture Dr. Park’s cure-all.”

“A city dies. The world panics. He profits. And everyone who can afford it will become deathless rage monsters.” Tobias pounded his fist into the car ceiling.

Tobias may understand Ruthven’s plan, but it made no sense to Marisol. “But Annie’s research disappeared, and what was left died with her.”

“So a city dies, and Vinnie and the Bloodsucker duke it out over the rubble?”

The massive SUV all of a sudden felt smaller. “People could be getting sick as we speak!” Marisol reached for the door handle. To do what? Run the streets screaming? Either A virus is coming! or Bloodsucker! Come out wherever you are? Anything to feel helpful rather than helpless.

“It’s a weaponized contagion. If he released it already, we’d hear about it within the hour. It’s ideal for spreading in a densely populated area. Not just a city but a special event.”

“How does a career vulture investor like Stone Ruthven go from co-oped drug deals to bioterrorism?” Tobias asked.

“Easy. Someone hired him.” Vincent adjusted the rearview mirror. The mirror reflected theemotionless abyss of his sunglasses in contrast to Tobias’s face, crooked with bruises and incredulity.

“You’re kidding me.” Tobias scrubbed his hands over his face and muttered, “Chess boards in chess boards.”

Tobias said this before, back at the precinct. They caught Izzy, a king, only to find he was the Bloodsucker’s pawn. That didn’t mean… Marisol must’ve misheard him. “What?”

“Someone with even more influence pointed him in my direction,” Vincent added. “But I’d surmise that Dr. Park’s serum will make it difficult to order him around.”

“Know of anyone with a grudge against you?” Tobias punctuated his question with a smirk in the mirror.

Vincent took off his sunglasses, matching smirk with smirk. “Over five hundred years, it can be quite a long list. Though they tend to die after a while.” He tapped an arm of his glasses against his lips.

“But that doesn’t matter now, right? If he has the virus, he’s going to release it. Where? Public transportation? Schools?” She offered anything to change the focus to what really mattered.

“I was drifting out of consciousness on that hook, but he kept bringing uplegacy.”

She snapped her fingers. “The Rooks’ Legacy semi-finals is this afternoon. Everyone in Shadowhaven vies for tickets!”

Tobias’s smirk faded. “It would be a perfect super-spreader event for something with a—how d’you put it?—weaponized gestation period?”

“We’ll patrol the arena for him.” Vincent rubbed his chin.

---