been raised, the vampires broke into Underground Seattle and claimed it as part of their territory. Now the entire underground structure was simply called the Catacombs.
The Wild Hunt Agency was downtown, on First Avenue, a wide street lined with trees. The brownstone walkup was five stories high, with both a series of steps and a ramp leading up to the main floor. The first floor was made up of the lobby and the urgent care clinic that catered to Cryptos and to the streeps in the area—the street people.
The second floor was a combined daycare and preschool for low-income families. On the third floor, a yoga and dance studio held their lessons. The fourth floor was ours—the Wild Hunt. And the fifth had recently been rented by the Stone & Needle, offering chiropractic services, acupuncture, a nutritionist, and several massage therapists. Unlike the brothels along the other side of the street, they actually did offer massage.
Across the street, delis and vintage shops intermingled with the fetish boutiques, where you could find specialized kink in just about any flavor you chose, running the gamut from vanilla to chocolate to rocky road, depending on how bent your tastes ran.
Angel and I strolled along the street, greeting the streeps as we went.
I was grateful to see that Pain and Shayla were no longer around. A young couple, they had been living in a cardboard box. But Shayla had been pregnant, and Pain wanted to do better for her and the baby, so we had hooked them up with a shelter where Shayla could stay while he continued to look for a job. A few weeks ago, Pain had contacted me to let me know he had found a good job. They could afford an apartment of their own. As I watched the jugglers and buskers on the street corner, I could only hope they would manage to keep the gains they had found.
As if reading my mind, Angel said, “I heard from Pain last week. Shayla had her baby. They found an apartment and he’s doing really well at his job. I’m cautiously optimistic that they’ll manage to pull themselves out of their old life.”
“That makes me happy,” I said. “And I can use happy news. The day seems so bright, and everything seems so normal that it’s hard to remember what we’re facing. And truth be known, I don’t want to remember it.”
Angel slid her arm through mine as we headed toward the stairs leading up to the agency. “Ember, one thing I’ve learned through all that’s happened, is sometimes you just have to go about your daily routine even though it feels like everything’s fallen out from under you.”
“Yeah, it’s not easy, but you’re right.”
“When Mama J. died, I really didn’t want to deal with all the fallout. But I had to put a roof over our heads and food on the table and keep DJ going. So I did what I had to. I got up in the morning, I sent DJ to school, and I went to work. I couldn’t think about my mother too much because so many things were weighing on my shoulders.”
I nodded. When my parents had been murdered, I wanted to curl up in a ball in the closet and stay there. But I couldn’t. Mama J. had offered to take me in, so I had picked myself up and continued my life, even through the pain.
“So, buck up, smell the roses, and deal with life as it comes?”
Her eyes twinkled. “Something like that.”
We were at the bottom of the steps, and we dashed up to the door. Inside the building, there was an elevator to the right, a few yards before the door leading into the urgent care clinic. We opted for the elevator and I pushed the button for the fourth floor.
The doors opened into the waiting room, which meant that someone had made it to work before we did. If the doors hadn’t opened, Angel would have had to use her key to unlock the stop at the fourth floor.
Angel headed to her circular desk directly across from the elevator. To the right was the seating area for clients. Directly behind Angel’s desk was Herne’s office door, and the hallway behind her desk led to the break room and the rest of our offices.
There were sounds coming from the break room, so I headed down to see who was there while Angel settled in at her desk and checked for any messages.
Herne