“Creepy clientele,” he muttered through his shirt.
“Your friends call you Scam,” Kelsie said.
“Yeah, so?”
“So you’re not free of creepiness yourself.”
Ethan didn’t argue. It was the first thing Kelsie had said to him since they’d left the staff meeting. And if she was talking to him again, then maybe one day she’d forgive him for getting her father kidnapped.
Also, Ethan was mostly trying to avoid the death-ray stare of some guy in a gray hoodie. The guy looked amped up on steroids, curling a loaded barbell like it was feathers.
“Is your contact here?” Ethan said.
“Fig’s always here,” Kelsie replied. “And don’t use your voice on him, okay? He’s my friend, and your voice just messes things up.”
“Roger that.”
“Your friends seem pretty cool, by the way.”
“Yeah, I guess they are. Sorry I didn’t mention them sooner.”
He was really glad the Zeroes had promised to come through for Kelsie. Glorious Leader, of course, couldn’t resist another addition to his superhuman zoo. But it had been pretty cool, seeing Kelsie’s eye widen when she saw the home theater, like Ethan was part of a group with a secret lair or something.
It almost made Ethan sentimental for last summer. At least, the summer they’d been having before he’d blown it up—before Nate had made him blow it up. The summer of running around Cambria, training to be superheroes, thinking they were the most powerful people in the world.
Not that Ethan wanted all that back. He didn’t need the Zeroes to be his friends again after this. He just needed them to help Kelsie.
He followed her through the gym. She didn’t seem freaked out by the criminal vibe here. The music was playing loud and hard, and she even danced to it a little. Like the meeting with the Zeroes had given her hope.
Wherever she went, the whole place sparked up. Even Gray Hoodie Guy seemed more cheerful. He picked up the pace of his bicep curls like he’d just taken a shot of adrenaline.
Ethan felt kind of ecstatic himself. He always felt better around her, but this was maybe more than usual.
“This is you, right? You’re making us all . . .”
“Upbeat?” Kelsie grinned. “You bet it’s me. Now I know I’m not the only one in the world with a power—”
“Glad to help with that.”
“You left out some stuff.” Kelsie’s scowl only lasted a second, and she was bopping again. “But it feels good now, like it’s a normal thing to have.”
“Helps to have people who understand you.”
Ethan remembered the first time he met the Zeroes. Or rather, he didn’t quite remember, because Anon had been the first one to say hi. But then Anon had introduced him to Bellwether and Flicker. And they’d all found Crash a few months later. And being a team with them, that was maybe the best two years of his life.
“They seem like regular people,” Kelsie said. “I was expecting superheroes, I guess.”
“Definitely not. But Nate wants to help you. Riley, too. And . . . Thibault.”
“Who?” Kelsie frowned.
“The other guy. He’ll take a while to sink in.” Ethan was pretty proud that he still remembered Anon’s name. The memories had faded while he’d been running around with Kelsie, because she was so sparkly and distracting. But seeing Tee at the meeting had recharged his memories of the penthouse.
“Chizara’s not into the whole group thing, is she?” Kelsie said.
Ethan shook his head. “She thinks we’re kind of careless.”
“Gee. Wonder where she got that idea.”
He shrugged. “We don’t need her for Nate’s plan.”
They did a circuit of the weight room, Kelsie dancing ahead while Ethan followed. The sweat smell was even sharper in here. Most of the bodybuilders nodded or smiled as Kelsie passed, feeling that rush of energy that swirled around her.
When they reached a room with aerobic equipment lined up like machines of war, Kelsie made a beeline for the treadmills. A short guy in a tight shirt was in full sprint, sweat flying off his face.
“Hey, Fig,” Kelsie said.
Fig heaved himself up with both hands to the rails of the treadmill, letting the mat spin beneath him.
“Hey, Kels,” he gasped. “Who’s your friend?”
“He’s gonna help me get my dad out of trouble.”
Fig gave Ethan a once-over. He looked unimpressed, but hit the treadmill stop button with his knee and leaped lightly from the machine. “Any friend of Kelsie’s.”
“Likewise.” Ethan shook the guy’s incredibly sweaty hand, then wondered if it was okay to wipe his palm on a trouser leg.
“Somewhere private?” Kelsie asked.
Fig grabbed a towel and led them through a doorway and out to a small, empty courtyard. Sunlight glinted on the circumference of glass windows. It felt like the inside of a fishbowl.
Fig mopped his face with the towel. “So is there a plan?”
Kelsie said, “I need to get in touch with the Bagrovs.”
“They’ll eat you alive.”
“I want to pay back my dad’s debt. We’ve got money.”
“Thirty grand,” Ethan said proudly.
Fig cast a dubious look at Ethan. “What’s your interest?”
Ethan had seen that look before. It was paternal, like Fig was saying, Make sure you have my little girl back by ten.
Ethan stood a little straighter. He kind of liked that Fig thought he might be boyfriend material. Maybe even dangerous boyfriend material.
Kelsie had told him not to use the voice, so there was no point trying to lie.
“It’s my fault Jerry’s in trouble. I want to fix it.”
Fig raised an eyebrow. “So you’re that bank-video kid. Thought so.”
“Yep,” Ethan said.
Fig chewed his lip, as if this didn’t make any sense. “Sounds like both you kids got good reason to stay clear of the Bagrovs. Do you know anything about these guys?”
“I know I can’t give up on my dad,” Kelsie said softly. “We take care of each other. We always have.”
Fig sighed, like he was having a hard time working out how to explain something really complicated. Ethan hated that look. His mother used it on him all the time.
He’d left his mother another message that morning, saying that he was okay and would be home soon. Ethan knew he had to face the music, once Kelsie’s dad was safe.
“If you’ve got money,” Fig was saying, “the best thing you can do is take it and get out of Cambria. At least until summer’s over. Maybe by then the Bagrovs will find a new town to pick on.”
Ethan figured that wasn’t a bad idea. He wished he’d done that when he’d stolen the Craig’s car. He could’ve kept driving until he hit LA. Or Mexico.
But then he wouldn’t have met Kelsie.
“These Bagrov guys,” Fig said. “They’ll take your money and still do what they want with Jerry. I mean, if they haven’t already . . .”
He let the sentence trail away.
Kelsie took a step forward. “What?”
“Come on, Kelsie. You know.” Fig pulled his towel off one shoulder and flicked it onto the other one. “Your dad was in deep.”
“Don’t talk like that, Fig,” she pleaded. “We’ve got money. That’s all they want, right?”
“You have to understand.” Fig dropped his volume from a booming baritone to something a little softer. “Jerry’s not coming back from this one. And I’m not going to let you wind up in the same place.”
Kelsie glanced over at Ethan in mute appeal. Without Fig’s help, the money was useless. Ethan didn’t have the first idea about how to get in touch with gangsters, and he was glad to see that Kelsie didn’t either.
She gave him one small nod and Ethan let it happen. He focused on how much he wanted to put things right with Kelsie. He hadn’t wanted anything this much in a long time. It practically hurt to want something
this much.
Get it right, voice. Get Fig on our side.
“Jerry told you a week ago, Fig, that if anything happened to him, he wanted you to take care of his little girl.”
Fig shook his head. “You knew Jerry?”
“I wasn’t in that bank for my suntan,” Ethan heard himself say. “I was there because Jerry wanted me to be.”
Fig was just staring at him now.
“Yeah, we set the whole thing up. It was supposed to go down different, with the Bagrov guy getting shot instead of Hank. More money for Jerry, so he could leave town. And a video to prove that Nic was a fink. That’s right, Sonia Sonic was in on it too.”
Ethan’s mind reeled as he listened. Man, the voice was outdoing itself this time.
“I told Jerry it might not work. And he said, ‘You fix it if it doesn’t. Buy me out. Fig’ll help you. Just tell him everything.’ ” The voice took a break for a second, barely long enough for Ethan to swallow. “So I’m telling you everything, Fig. You going to come through or not?”
Fig gave him an astonished look. “Jerry thought all that up?”
“Yep.”
Fig blinked once, slow as a lizard, then nodded. “You wait right here.”
Ethan watched him stride through the gym and straight to the guy in the gray hoodie, of all people. After a brief conversation, the guy pulled out his phone.
“Okay,” Kelsie said. “That was impressive. But I can’t help but remember how things worked out last time you used the voice.”
Ethan had been thinking the same thing. What had Fig said the Bagrovs would do to him and Kelsie? Eat them alive?
Fig returned to the courtyard. “They want double what Jerry owed. Twenty-five grand.”
“We’ve got it,” Kelsie said.
“Head out to Hurricane Hauling and Demolition. Their office is out on Memorial Drive. Some guy called Misha will be there.”
Ethan sighed. “Great. That guy.”
“When?” Kelsie asked.
“In three days,” Fig replied. “Fourth of July at seven p.m. Unmarked cash.”
“Thanks, Fig,” Kelsie said. She gave him a light punch on his overdeveloped upper arm. Her mood was infectious, spilling across the gym and making Ethan smile.
“Don’t thank me, Kelsie.” Somehow Fig wasn’t included in Kelsie’s ramped-up optimism. “Just promise me, anything goes wrong, you get the hell out of there. Let Jerry fix it himself.”
“It’ll be okay, Fig,” she said. “I’ve got new friends. Friends who can help.”
Fig turned his narrow glare upon Ethan.
“We’ll look after her,” Ethan confirmed.
Fig looked like he didn’t believe it.
Ethan couldn’t blame the guy.
CHAPTER 63
FLICKER
SOMETIMES, WHEN THEY WERE ALONE like this, it felt like the attic was breathing.
Maybe it was how close they were—legs entwined on the old couch, her hand resting on his knee, the rustle of his clothing in her ears. Or maybe it was the summer heat, which carried every tremor of motion through the still, almost-liquid attic air.
When Flicker had come to the attic, she’d curled up with him straightaway, as if her body knew that this was how they’d wound up last time. Whenever that was.
It was tricky, keeping track of everything. She repeated her jokes a lot, and he kidded her about it. Which seemed unfair.
But other memories were easy, always at her fingertips. She knew that Anon had arrived Saturday night, and that the family didn’t realize he was staying up here, not even Lily. Flicker also knew that he had a name besides Anon, but it was annoyingly tricky to remember. She also recognized his scent, his touch, and the sound of his breathing, as if her senses had their own private stash of memory, immune to his power.
Or maybe, after all those stories, the attic was magic.
* * *
“Do you ever go see your family?” she asked that afternoon. “That’s a new question, right?”
“Yeah, it is. And I go there once a year, to my youngest brother’s birthday party.”
Flicker asked carefully, “Do your parents recognize you?”
“Sort of. When my mom looks straight at me, she gets this smile, like I’m her kid off at college and she forgot I was coming. But she’s glad to see me. Until she looks away.” A pause, and then his voice was softer. “It’s harder since my grandma moved in; the house is too crowded. But they’ve still got my picture up everywhere.”
Flicker pulled him closer. “They must miss you, then.”
“I guess.” He shifted beside her, maybe a shrug. “But they must wonder where I am, when they look at those pictures. And I guess their friends ask. They probably have some story they tell. Something that sticks in their head, even if I don’t. My mom takes a lot of pictures. I photo bomb them, so there’s always new pictures of me around.”
“Maybe that’s why she takes so many,” Flicker said. “But don’t they talk to you?”
“My parents don’t—well, hardly. And my middle brother doesn’t remember me at all. But Emile, the littlest, knows who I am.” Anon laughed. “He should. I get him the same damn present every year.”
“Seriously? What?”
“A rock.”
Flicker laughed. “Gee. I never get rocks for my birthday.”
“Me neither. Last year I got him a red almandine garnet.”
“Wait, you’re serious. Like a gem?”
“It’s a crystal, made of iron and aluminum. He had all the other species of garnets, so now he’s got a full set.”
Anon sounded proud of his work, and Flicker smiled.
“I didn’t even know rocks had species,” she said.
“Emile says they’re alive. Just very slow.”
The ache in his voice sent a flash of anger through Flicker. “Your mom and dad, they shouldn’t have left you in that hospital. They should have remembered.”
The moment she said the words, she regretted them. Anon’s breathing hitched, a tremor moving through his body next to hers.
“Sorry,” she said. “Shouldn’t bring that up. I’m an idiot.”
“No.” He took her hand—that perfect fit. “It’s just . . . I told you about the hospital the first night I was here, three days ago. And you still remember.”
Flicker shrugged. “Who could forget a little kid getting left alone in a hospital?”
“Well, you all forgot it the first time you heard it. When Scam’s voice said it last summer.”
“Oh.” She shuddered. It was hard recalling that day, after what Scam had said to her and Nate. You want to bang your little sister, don’t you? Flicker had already known Nate was in love with her, but hearing it out loud—that way, in front of all of them—had changed their friendship forever.
Nate’s power was tangled up with his ego in messy ways. And Flicker knew she was a walking reminder for him that charm had its limits.
Anon felt the shudder and squeezed her tighter. “It’s okay. I’m glad you forgot what Scam said to me. But I’m also glad you remember when I told you.”
“I do. Perfectly.” She even remembered Anon’s voice as he’d told her the story. Hoarse and dry, like he was still in that hospital bed, sick and thirsty and alone. “When I told Lily about it, she added a whole chapter to the story of Nothing.”
“Great,” he said, like maybe it wasn’t.
“Sorry to spill your secrets, Anon. But Lily’s stories are how I remember you, just like your mom and her photos. Lily can’t forget you, because you’re just a fairy tale to her. She’s my extra brain, sort of.”
“So you keep telling me,” he said, then laughed. “Secret twin powers, activate!”
“Okay, I can see how it’s weird.”
She felt him shrug, and he said, “I’m just worried you’ll get disappointed by the reality. Instead of a prince, I’m a guy whose parents forgot him. Instead of a castle, I have a stolen hotel room. Had one, anyway. Now I’m b
asically homeless.” He deflated with a sigh. “Haven’t slain any dragons lately either.”
She laughed. “It’s not like you slayed—slew?—any dragons in Lily’s stories either. That’s not really her kind of thing.”
“No?” He sounded disappointed. “So I slew giants? Vampires, maybe? What is her thing, exactly?”
Flicker felt a squirm starting inside of her but didn’t let it come to the surface. With Anon lying this close to her, he would feel it if she cringed.
“Lily thinks you’re my fictional boyfriend.”
“Your what?”
“Haven’t you ever you read a book”—her voice dropped a little—“or you’re watching a movie or whatever, and there’s a hot girl in it, so you pretend she’s your girlfriend? You know?”
“Sure,” he said. But from the sound of it, he didn’t know.
She tried again. “They weren’t really stories per se, with bad guys and quests and plots and stuff. I mean, they’d start off that way. But they always wound up drifting into, um . . .”
“Boyfriend stuff?” His body trembled—he was either having a stroke or he was at the edge of laughing.
“Yeah. I know it sounds silly,” Flicker said. “Especially compared to you and Ethan being really mature and killing tree sprites in Red Specter or whatever.”
Whoa. That memory had come out of nowhere, just in time.
“It’s Red Scepter, not Specter,” Anon said. “And I killed no tree sprites. I was a tree sprite. Totally different.”
“Yes, I can see the distinction. Being a fictional tree sprite is way less silly than having a fictional boyfriend.”
“One key difference is, there are no real tree sprites. Fictional is the only kind of sprite there is. But there are real boys.” His hand slid from her shoulder down to her waist, tracing every inch between.
It sent a shiver through her, and she turned to face him.
“Yeah, okay. That is different.” Flicker was pretty sure they’d never had this particular conversation before. “Tell me more.”
“There’s not a lot to tell,” he said. “Except that real is better.”
“This sounds doubtful. I’ve had some awesome fictional boyfriends.”