Page 74 of Caretaker

And we both stared at an uncomfortable Clayton. “Miriam is making me stronger with each resurrection,” he said, not looking at either of us. “I’ll go through first to make sure it’s safe on the other side. It won’t be long before they discover the missing guards and sound the alarm.”

I swallowed hard. I was surprised they hadn’t sounded the alarm already, but it appeared as though weekends were more relaxed and most of the employees were either inside the Byrdcage or at the fights, screaming and yelling with insane, depraved joy as the supernaturals were forced to kill each other.

“What a shit place,” I whispered.

Clayton wiggled his way through the hole in the thick wall, and I waited a few seconds before following. On the other side, we waited for Al to squeeze through the opening.

I pulled in the air, hesitated, then sniffed again. Madalyn’s scent was there, and stronger than ever, but it carried something that worried me. I smelled death in her scent. I smelled weakness.

“She’s dying,” I realized, stunned. “God, Clayton. She’s dying. Right now, right this second, we’re losing her.”

“Lead us to her,” Al said. “Quickly.”

But darkness descended over me as we trotted between squat buildings, drawing ever closer to the sounds of fighting and cheering, and at the center of it all was the strong scent of the dying woman.

“There,” Clayton said, indicating a large structure a few yards ahead of us. “That’s where they have Angus.”

“Madalyn is close,” I whispered, full of terror, “and she is dying. What are they doing to her, Clayton?”

“I don’t know,” he answered. “I don’t know.”

The building in which they held the fights was a rickety old warehouse, perhaps used once upon a time to store things—but now it held only viciousness and horror.

We spotted two armed guards standing at the entrance, smoking cigarettes and laughing.

“How did you get inside?” I asked.

“I didn’t. There are missing boards over the windows.”

“Show me.”

“We should wait for the judge.”

“Maybe,” I said. “But we’re not going to. By the time he gets here, it might be too late. We’re here for a reason. I have to keep going, Clayton.”

We didn’t make a sound as we crept forward. The loudest sound was likely the beating of my heart.

We slipped around to the side of the building, to where yellow light slipped through cracks and gaps in long, broken windows.

Clayton led Al and me to one of those windows, and then he stepped aside. He said nothing, just waited for me to step up and peer inside.

At the exact second I pressed my face to the boards and looked into the building, a deafening siren split the air. Buzzing alarms, urgent shrieking siren, immediate flurry of activity. I jumped back, gasping, thinking I’d somehow set off an alarm by touching the building.

But it wasn’t me. The dead guards had been found.

Still, those inside, after a moment’s silence, began to yell, “Finish it! Finish it!”

They weren’t going to let anything stop the fight. Money was involved. Greed, hunger, and evil were involved. And the fight would go on to the end.

Once more, I pushed my face against the rough wall and peered inside.

The room was cavernous and huge and contained only folding chairs, standing humans, cages, and a platform. Guards stood around the arena, holding enormous electroshock prods and guns.

The scent of beer, cooking meat, and blood wafted through the cracks of the building, causing me to gag even as tears obscured my vision.

I blinked them away furiously and forced myself to stare at the gory horror inside.

I saw Angus.

Oh yes, I saw him.

I understood why Clayton had wanted to shield me.

And I wished I had let him.