Free Younger Gods 1: The Younger Gods by Michael R. Underwood Page B

corner,” he said, slipping on a pair of worn sneakers. “You want to talk, follow me.”
    He slung a bag over her shoulder and stepped out into the hall to close and relock the door.
    “Someone’s after the Hearts. We were sent to help keep you safe,” Antoinette said.
    “The Gardener said this would keep me safe,” the man said, holding up the bracelet to display the gems. “I’m not sure why he sent you.”
    “Most likely to get us out of his finely-coiffed hair,” I said.
    “That seems like him,” he said, starting off for the front door at the archetypal running-walk of native New Yorkers.
    We hopped to in order to follow, and were out the front door in an instant, bearing west on St. Mark’s.
    “So who is this woman that’s got everyone’s pants in a twist?” the agent asked as he speed-walked down the street.
    “My sister.”
    The man raised one perfectly-groomed eyebrow.
    “Sorry,” Antoinette interjected. “What was your name?”
    “I’m Nate,” he said. “Your sister?” Nate hopped between threads like a veteran weaver.
    “You might call me the white sheep of my family. My sister has grave designs for this city, but if we can keep even one of the Hearts from her . . .”
    “Sure,” Nate said. “It’s like a Horcrux thing in reverse. I got the briefing.”
    I, apparently, had not. “Horcrux?” I asked.
    Carter said, “He’s culturally illiterate.” I didn’t need to look to see his smirk.
    “How’s that working for you?” Nate asked.
    “Poorly,” I said. “But being versed in popular culture is not what will save this city.”
    “Maybe say that a little louder. That’d be great,” Carter said, gesturing toward the people on the street.
    Nate kept moving. “You don’t think I’m actually going to let you shadow me all day, do you? I have things to do.”
    “You were chosen as the Bearer for a reason. It is a sacred duty, and for the sake of all New Yorkers—” I said, but Nate cut me off again.
    “I know my duty. Every damn day I regret taking tall, dark, and creepy’s offer, but whatcha gonna do? Here’s the deal,” Nate said as we waited for the crossing light to turn. “You work around my schedule, and what I say goes. I’m the Bearer, you are just the muscle.” Looking at me, Nate added, “Plus whatever he is.”
    Everything about him was electric, foreshortened, like he was coiled energy let loose on the world. The light turned, and he set off.
    “That’s fine,” Antoinette said, hurrying to catch up. “But we also need to go after the other Hearts. So one of us stay with you, the others will go, until we can account for all of the Hearts and can make a real battle plan.”
    Nate asked, “So, who’s it going to be? You, white sheep, or the Nephilim knight here?” Nate gestured to Carter with the epithet.
    “It seems likely that Esther can track my movements when she needs to, so it should not be me. Perhaps Carter should stay with you?” I said.
    We wove through the crowds on the sidewalk, leading us toward Broadway, and presumably NYU. I checked my watch: 9:52. We were unlikely to reach any NYU buildings before ten.
    Carter said, “Fine. Just don’t go picking any fights.” He looked straight at me.
    “I have no desire to enrage an entire pack of lycanthropes, thank you very much. I’ve not much sense when it comes to people, but I’ve enough for that.”
    “Good. If someone’s going to kick your ass, it should be me.”
    “Aren’t we a happy little family?” Antoinette gestured to Carter. “Give me your phone. We need to be able to get in touch in a hurry.”
    “I have your number,” Carter said.
    “I’m not going to count on”—Antoinette looked at his phone—“CREDO to have signal where we’re going. This will only take a minute.”
    Antoinette kept walking as she fiddled with the phone, an onyx gemstone in her hands. I stepped forward and helped clear the sidewalk for Nate so that he would be able to walk without