Shit. Maybe I’m already a monster.
“Tell me the truth,” Aaron whispered.
I said, “If he’s brave enough to ask, he deserves an answer.”
I let Kian explain as best he could. But it didn’t seem to make sense to the kid, who felt around on the back of his head. “There’s nothing here.”
Just because you can’t see or touch it doesn’t mean it can’t hurt you. That was my new mantra, not that it offered me any comfort, either. I glanced at Buzzkill, wondering if he had any words of wisdom, but he was drinking his bloody virgin with an indifferent air.
“Wait, you can drink?”
“Is that important?” He wanted to know.
“No, but I’m curious.”
“You heard how that worked out for the cat, right?”
“I’ll risk it.”
“Then, yeah, I can. Don’t have to, but I can. Since I was allegedly human once, my ‘afterlife’ has some perks.”
“Perks?” I asked, despite myself.
Buzzkill only smirked.
Oh God.
Aaron wore a blank look while Kian was quietly revolted. He got the conversation back on track. “So about the brain sucker…”
“You got me. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“It doesn’t come from any of our stories?” I asked.
“None I’ve heard. But … there are things in the universe that didn’t come from humans. Old things. They were around before.”
“Like Allison Vega,” I blurted.
Buzzkill cocked his head in inquiry. “Who?”
“That’s probably not her name. She said something about speaking Sanskrit,” Kian put in. He went on to tell the killer clown what we knew of her, including how she feasted on dissent and didn’t have a belly button.
“Oh,” he said, losing interest. “In the old days you called her kind demons. But that doesn’t mean much outside of religious context. To be fair, I understand why they’re pissed at humans. They had a good thing going here before you climbed out of the primordial ooze and made this world your bitch.”
That was a separate problem. I sighed. “I bet they thought it was funny when we started using the collective unconscious to create our own nightmares.”
“At first, probably,” he agreed. “Though you realize I wasn’t around, right? On the immortal longevity scale, I’m a fetus.”
“A terrifying fetus,” Kian muttered.
He flashed that awful grin. “Thanks, kid. Just doing my job.”
The sad part, that was true. “This thing attached, it’s not a monster we made?”
“No way. It only pops on the subatomic level. Which tells me it’s probably some kind of dimensional beastie. I could check with Wedderburn, if you want.” His scary eyes dared me to say yes.
I had a little more hot chocolate before giving him the go-ahead. Asking for information wouldn’t be worse than letting him help me save my dad—after he had my mother murdered. Hatred burned like an ember in my chest, until it felt like I didn’t have a human heart anymore, like I’d swapped it for a lump of coal, now kindled to a thousand degrees by white-hot loathing. I hoped Buzzkill couldn’t see it, or he’d certainly warn his master.
Not that I expected Wedderburn to take the threat I posed seriously.
I hoped he wouldn’t survive to regret it.
But I had other issues pressing first. Aaron. My dad.
Lately school didn’t even feel like a dot on my horizon when it used to be my whole world. I could feel myself detaching from reality. It was easy to understand why Kian came across as he did when we first met, removed from humanity. Live too long in this world and the mundane one started to feel like the echo, the shadow that belonged to other people.
Buzzkill’s side of the conversation didn’t help too much. He just repeated what we’d told him and what we all saw through those weird-ass glasses. Then he went quiet, listening.
Aaron got up while Buzzkill was on the phone, head bowed. “Is the restroom over there?”
“Yeah, straight back that way.” Kian pointed toward an arch way past the last booth.
Buzzkill put down his cell as Aaron left. “I wasn’t wrong,” he began. “Wedderburn says the things don’t really have a name but he calls them temporal parasites because they tend to latch on to people who are somehow screwed in the time stream. From what he’s seen, they’re kind of a … cosmic cleanup crew.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” Kian said.
“Think about it. You told me this kid’s from 1922, but he’s only fourteen years old or whatever. How’s that work if he remembers he should be almost a hundred? He’s out of time. Not his fault, the Harbinger did something to him. But can shit like that go unchecked?”
“I have no idea,” I said.
“Wedderburn says the answer is no—that the universe hates a paradox. So there are forces outside the game that exert pressure to restore equilibrium. Why do you think he’s so hot to lock down his control of the time-travel technology you and your old man invent down the line?” At my expression, he made a face. “Like you don’t already know.”
Kian had shown me some confidential files a while back that hinted as much. This was confirmation, however.
“Why is one person so critical to the universe?” Kian asked, talking about Aaron.
“As a former catalyst, you’re seriously asking me that? Hell if I know. I can’t break it all down for you, I just kill things.”
“So basically, Aaron has a dimensional parasite locked on to him,” I cut in. “Did Wedderburn say what the endgame is?”
Buzzkill shrugged. “It’s not set in stone. Sometimes the host dies or sometimes they’re just wiped clean, tabula rasa.”
Kian’s eyes widened. “If he can’t remember that he was born in 1922, it’s a soft reboot. He becomes just another damaged kid.”
“Give the pretty boy a prize. And thus, balance is restored,” Buzzkill said.
“He was really cold.” Judging by his pulse earlier, it sounded like this reset might end him. I nudged Kian across the table. “He’s been gone for a while. You should check on him.”
Nodding, he stood up and headed off, but he was back in thirty seconds, white faced and breathless. “Aaron’s gone, I think he went out the window.”
Swearing, I jumped out of my chair as Kian flung some money on the table for Shirl. I raced outside and around the building, hoping to catch sight of him. He was so young and helpless, despite his chronological age, that I couldn’t stop the terror rolling over me. Buzzkill caught up with us in the alley behind Cuppa Joe. He sniffed the air, twice, and froze, but I only smelled the rotten food from the Dumpster, along with a hint of urine.
“What’s wrong?” Kian asked.
“Brace yourself,” the killer clown said with dreadful relish. “Dwyer’s coming in hot.”
HEART IN A BOX
“Pun intended?” Kian asked.
In that moment, I loved him so much that it hurt. The witty one-liners were so much a part of the action-hero role he wanted to play. I couldn’t believe he had the presence of mind to snap one off, just before everything went insane. Unfortunately, he didn’t have the combat prep he needed, and that scared the crap out of me. Yet at this point I was starting to get why he didn’t care about his own safety. I’d lost so much that I’d rather die myself than take another emotional hit. Physical pain was finite, right? Death should be an ending; it wouldn’t be a triumph, but if I could die saving my dad, my friends, or Kian, it would be worth it.
Buzzkill smirked. “Hey, I am a clown.”
Kian reached for me, taking my hand in a gesture of solidarity. The cold air around us heated, melting the snow accumulated against the alley walls into a swath of steam. At the same time, a glowing nimbus surrounded us from all sides, so bright that it burned out my vision briefly, replacing it with the burn of staring too long into the sun. Sudden terror burst like a rotten fruit. Did this mean Dwyer was leading the
strike team personally? I didn’t expect that. I figured he’d send minions, like the monsters he’d used to kidnap my dad.
No time to think. I couldn’t let my flight reflex kick in either. Fighting wasn’t my instinctive reaction, but to survive, I had to. I’d throw down for a chance to save my dad and to defend Kian. Before the temporary blindness passed, I dug into my coat pocket. Cameron should be fully powered up since I hadn’t used him since the binding and lessons at Forgotten Treasures. Sucking in a stabilizing breath, I flipped open the compact and whispered the first command Rochelle had taught me.
Strength flooded my body until the top of my head tingled. My skin also felt iced with cold, as if I had dead hands plastered all over me. I tucked the mirror away and waited for my vision to clear. I heard Buzzkill swearing and the sound of him digging into his briefcase for the tools of his trade. I was most worried about Kian, who hadn’t trained with Raoul and me much. If it came down to it, I know how to strike, block, and fall, not that I was convinced I could physically stand against Dwyer and his ilk.
When I could see again, we were in a bubble of sorts, no longer part of the modern world. I’d seen something like this before when we visited the Oracle in Wedderburn’s compound. Kian had called her a forfeit, caught in amber, because she couldn’t exist in the real world. Was this place like her cave? Despite the dangers, I wondered about the physics involved in creating subspace like this one. I’d give anything to study the phenomenon … but Dwyer or his crew would soon be trying to kill us. That reality snapped me back to high alert.
The walls were pale and nondescript with pockets and shadows in the distance. That much power scared the shit out of me.
As if answering my thought, Dwyer strode toward us with minions in tow. And the sun god smiled. He wore white today, a stark contrast to the bronze and gold of the rest of his hair and skin. He took a step forward, holding up a hand to keep the monsters at his sides in check. They seemed to be feathered serpents in rainbow hues, something from the Mayan world, I thought, but their hisses and fangs and the way they bobbed and wove, staring at us, told me we were definitely prey. The movements were hypnotic, so I wrenched my gaze back to Dwyer. Ra. Apollo. Whoever the hell he was.
“I’m sure you know by now,” he said.
“What?”
“That I have your father.”
“We’re not here to talk,” Buzzkill cut in. “You invited us, so let’s dance.”
A quick glance showed me his true form, a terrifyingly demented clown with yellowed eyes and teeth, serrated blades in each hand. The outfit and hair should’ve made him hilarious, but I shivered as I looked away. Glad he’s on my side at the moment.
“I’ll get to you in a minute, freak show. This is a one-time offer for amnesty. Come with me, and I’ll reunite you with your father. The two of you can work at one of my labs, under our protection. What’s Wedderburn done to deserve your loyalty? You’re a smart girl, I’m sure you already know what he did to your mother.”
“I’m aware,” I choked out.
The fact was, I’d be stupid not to consider it. But Buzzkill slid me a look. “Don’t be dumb, kid. Wedderburn would rather see you dead than helping the opposition.”
“Don’t even think about it,” Kian growled.
I wasn’t sure who he was talking to, both of them, probably. The bravado was sweet, but he couldn’t handle this for me. Not without being destroyed in this weird-ass clash of the Titans. So I opened my fingers and stepped away, drawing the enemy’s gaze.
Dwyer flashed a blindingly bright smile. “But, you see, I feel exactly the same way.”
Shit. I’m a wishbone. They’ll pull on me until I break.
Then a faint whisper sounded in my head. Remember how you felt when I had you on your knees? The rage and humiliation nearly choked me, even a year later. Some memories didn’t fade. Cameron? I whispered silently. He was part of me, wrapped around me, and the sensation was god-awful with horror.
Use that. Use it now.
“I’m not yours to take,” I snarled at Dwyer.
Nobody was more startled when my fist connected with his jaw, and dark energy spilled from my fingers, blasting him back. Cameron? But my spirit familiar didn’t reply. That wicked strength surged again, fueling my rage. For too long, I had been afraid—of the assholes at school, of monsters and immortals, of failing my family and friends, of losing the people I loved. It was time to fight back.
He didn’t fall, but he did pause, rubbing his jaw with gilded fingertips. “You dare?”
But I didn’t give him time to shit-talk. I went after him again, trying to remember everything Raoul had taught me. In my peripheral vision, Buzzkill rushed the feathered serpents, but the wind was rising, gusts pushing me away from my target. I stumbled as the brightness increased. Soon there was a corona in my eyes and I couldn’t find Dwyer. I took his first hit squarely in my stomach; it should’ve scrambled my intestines but Cameron’s cold seemed to absorb some of the force. I tumbled backward but, thanks to Raoul, I knew how to fall and I was on my feet in a few seconds.
Kian called, “Edie!”
I couldn’t look at him.
The heat was rising, along with gale-force winds. It was all I could do to keep my feet while Buzzkill slashed at the feathered serpent I figured had to be responsible for the storm. The other one joined in, adding thunder and lightning to the melee. It snapped to the ground only inches from where I stood, raising all the hair on my head and singeing the soles of my shoes. Dancing backward, I narrowly avoided a blow from Dwyer. His expression radiated grim amusement, as if he didn’t expect me to make this so interesting.
He’d hurt me badly, and it would probably get worse. The nearest snake god lashed out at me, judging me more dangerous than Kian. That made me happy even as Kian swore. I dodged the strike and wished I had a weapon. Barehanded combat sucked against such powerful opponents. A shrill cry of terror made me whirl around, just fast enough to avoid the follow-up in the form of lashing teeth.
To my horror, Aaron came flying out of the shadows, tossed like flotsam on the killing wind. He must’ve been hiding nearby when Dwyer pulled us here. The kid hit the ground hard and bounced several more feet. He wasn’t moving like prey, more like a bag of clothes, but the snake god struck, sinking long fangs into him again and again. I ran at the thing but Dwyer knocked me away. I can’t believe I forgot about him.
“Hold on,” Buzzkill yelled. “Boss will send reinforcements but it’ll take some time for them to pierce the bubble.”
That strike nailed me squarely in the back, and I would’ve hit my head hard enough to knock me out if I hadn’t known how to roll with it. I tumbled forward and came up on my feet, wobbling but still in the fight. Wearing an unreadable expression, Dwyer came at me again, riding the wind like a chariot. He loomed over me, trying that damn aura, but my spirit familiar kept me from feeling the worst of it. Instead of kneeling I struck at his kneecaps; that was how high he was above me. He tried to kick me in the head and I flung up my forearm in a reflexive block. The light that had rocked the Harbinger at school blew the sun god back. Thanks, Wedderburn. My marks were a fail-safe; now I was sure. If I’d tried to go with Dwyer, they might’ve burned so hot they would’ve killed me. Flinching, I remembered how much they hurt when I left Boston with Davina. Damn. I basically have a bomb in each wrist.
Dwyer swore in a language I didn’t recognize, and I swung toward him, squinting. “That’s not standard issue,” he added in English.
My eyes focused as I caught my breath. My stomach was definitely bruised, and it slowed me down when Dwyer put out a hand. A ferocious glow kindled in his palm, the kind of brightness that said he’d burn everything down if he had to. The fire exploded like a backdraft, so it hurt to breathe. I dove but there was no shelter, and the wind caught me, buffeting me into the far wall. This was a pocket space created by the sun god; how long could he hold both our prison and keep summoning the power he needed to smite me?
/> When my eyes stopped stinging from the extreme heat, I stared in disbelief at the charred body nearby. I’d seen footage from bomb explosions and not been prepared for the damage. Buzzkill was still fighting. Is that … That is … Nearby, Kian hit the ground hard, bleeding from multiple puncture wounds. Then it’s Aaron. We saved him from the Harbinger and he died on our watch. I didn’t have the time to ponder the implications—if the life we’d pulled him out of had been better than a fiery death.
Buzzkill sliced the head off a feathered serpent, but the thing didn’t stop. Instead its body simply writhed until another grew in its place. He cursed in quick succession. “I can’t win here. They can’t kill me. I can’t kill them. But you…”
I’m weak. Human. And Kian’s already down. The snake-thing bit him.
He wasn’t moving either. My anger went ice cold, and Cameron … sank into me more. His despair over Brittany, being helpless and trapped, his emotions rushed through me like water across a broken dam. He didn’t care who the target was; he just wanted someone to pay. It was all I could do to keep him from taking my body entirely. Through pure force of will, I choked him and took his fury as my own. I had no idea how I looked but Buzzkill actually gave way when I surged forward, both hands raised in a fighting stance.
“You can hurt me,” I said coldly. “But you can’t break me.”
Dwyer lobbed more of that flash fire at me and I rolled through it. The move cost me, burning away most of my spirit strength. Cam’s power was finite, and I’d nearly tapped it, but I kept running. Sheer purpose drove me forward and Cameron guided my hand with monstrous accuracy. My curled fingers sank into Dwyer’s chest and I kept pushing. He didn’t have the same biological consistency as a human, no flesh or bone, but I was definitely hurting him. My fingers curled around something hard and hot and when I pulled my hand out, I held a blazing stone, ugly, seething orange that contrasted sharply with the beauty of his exterior.
His expression dazed and frightened, Dwyer stumbled back as the pocket realm imploded. Shards of light rained down around me as I threw myself on top of Kian. When I opened my eyes again, I was lying in the dirty alley behind Cuppa Joe on top of Kian’s still body, Aaron’s unrecognizable corpse nearby. Wedderburn arrived a few seconds later in a shower of ice and hail; I hardly felt it as it sprinkled on my back.