I know it in my soul. Not despite the pictures, but because of them. There’s something I’m missing. I told him if anyone found out about him and Jamison, they’d put him to death. I explained to him that Talia and I could be held responsible for lying for him. He could get us all killed. Why would he risk that?
“Okay. We’ll handle this like we planned last time. I’ll play dumb,” I say. “I’ll hack into his phone. Put in a tracking app. He’ll lead us right to them,” I add when she’s still wearing an uncertain expression, like she’s expecting me to shatter.
The determination in my voice seems to catch her off guard. If he betrayed me, I’ll kill him myself. I won’t be broken. Not over a guy. Not over anyone. I’m stronger than this.
But he wouldn’t… I silence the thought, but it refuses to die. I’m not wrong. He wouldn’t do this. Never.
My throat tightens. At the least, he’s exactly what Talia promised me. A liar. If I can’t trust him, we’re done.
In the blackness behind my eyelids each of my heartbeats thumps white. I want to throw up, scream, claw through his ribcage and rip loose the heart I brought back to life.
“Are you sure I shouldn’t handle this?” Talia offers. “Because I can. I will.”
“Thank you but no,” I croak. “We both know it’s got to be me. Otherwise you’ll never trust me again when I take over the cluster.”
The words hang there between us. She’s still holding the notebook and folder. Her tongue wets her lips before she hands me the packet. “It’s your mother’s. The other stuff is info on the cluster you should have.”
“Thanks,” I say as I take it.
“I read it. All of it,” she says, and I don’t understand why it sounds like an apology until she goes on. “It’s not just cases and notes on clients. A few of the entries are more personal.”
“Such as?”
“Things about you,” she says quietly. “When your mom stepped aside and had Sarah take over, your mom was adamant you be next in line. Once your parents died, Sarah wanted you to have a say in your future.”
“She never said anything,” I say, mystified.
“You always took it for granted that leading this cluster was what you had to do. I did as well,” Talia says. “But I never asked you. Not in any actual way. Allie, you never wanted this at all, did you?”
My can of Coke’s on the end table beside me. I thumb the tab. “You should take off before Ploy gets here,” I say. I swallow the thickness threatening in my throat. “I’ll be in contact.”
“Okay,” she says finally.
For a long moment, I’m sure she’ll refuse to go. Even when we hug goodbye and she retreats down the stairs, I’m half convinced I should send him a text to warn him she’s probably hiding in some dusky corner to slug a blade between his ribs. As I stand in the center of the living room, waiting for Ploy to come back, I can’t decide if it would be a kindness. Like me, Talia knows where to aim to make a kill quick.
And she, like me, will know where to aim to make Ploy hurt.
Ploy
It’s been twenty minutes since I bolted from the others. I threaded through the crowded streets until my legs burned. The rabid thump of my pumping blood only added to the anxiety flooding my system until I finally broke and started toward Allie’s place, and the only thing I know will calm me. Now, making my way down the hallway to her door, my brain keeps oozing random memories of me and Jamison, me and Allie, that goddamned cellar.
I juggle the flowers I’m holding and slip the plain silver key Allie gave me a week and a half ago out of my pocket. Wet stems brush my arm. Allie’s going to be furious with me. I’ll grovel. Beg for her forgiveness. All of that can happen later. One of her resurrectionists will be a target, soon. They’re already watching him.
My throat bobs. The key is in the lock. I clutch the knob.
She’ll forgive me, I promise myself. I’ll tell Allie I did this for her and she’ll finally realize I won’t keel over or get myself killed or screw up again.
In the quiet of the hall, I swear I can hear Jamison’s lungs struggling as the poison takes hold, his breaths more and more uneven.
Open the door, I tell myself.
I do. There’s a click and a creak, and the mess inside me settles as I spot Allie on the couch. Her arm is cocked to hold her chin, her elbow on the armrest.
“Hey,” I say, unable to hide the relief in my voice.
I cross the room and sit beside her on the couch, nuzzling into the space between her neck and shoulder.
Instead of kissing her there, I run the tip of my nose across her skin until our mouths are close. She tilts away. Not much, not enough that I would have even noticed if I wasn’t paying attention.
Weird, I think.
Whipping the flowers from behind my back, I present them to her. The cellophane surrounding them crinkles in the silence. She stares at them as if I’ve pulled some sort of magic trick.
“For you,” I say, and then feel sort of ridiculous.
Allie’s gaze is empty, focused not on the flowers but far beyond them. The television is off. Only now am I noticing the red rim at her lashes, the shine to her eyes.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, baffled. Slowly, I lower the bouquet. What if they already got the kid? What if they moved without me after I took off?
I watch her retreat into herself, arms crossed over her chest. Then I realize that’s not it at all. She’s reaching for the knives at her waist.
“Allie?” The slightest bit of concern has found its way into my voice. “Are you okay?”
She stands. I mimic the motion, following her as she moves away from the couch.
The flowers are between us when she whirls toward me. At least her hands are still empty. “I… These are for you,” I repeat.
There’s a twitch in her jaw. Other than that, she doesn’t react.
I pause, not sure where I should start my story. With the kid the hunters are after? Should I give her a chance to warn him first? Her eyes move to the flowers and then rise to mine. They’re an entirely unnatural blue because the whites are so bloodshot. She watches me and then she draws her knives from their sheathes.
“Allie, what’s—”
“Who were you with downtown?” Her voice is colder than I’ve ever heard it.
“Wait,” I start and now my fear is real, a living thing because this isn’t how she was supposed to find out, whatever she knows. The flowers fall from my hand. I move toward her, but Allie retreats.
“You were with the hunters, yes or no?” This time it’s a question and some part of me is grateful because if she’s asking questions it must mean she wants answers, and if she’s still in this enough to give me a chance to explain, I can fix it.
“Listen to me, okay? Just listen,” I blurt.
“Don’t you dare lie to me. Talia saw you!”
Talia, I think. Talia would have followed me, waiting for the chance to catch me doing wrong. I bet she was absolutely salivating to tell Allie.
“After I begged you to stay away from them?” she says. It’s not until she looks up at me that I realize she wanted me to answer her, that she’s asking flat out if I betrayed her. “I told you the risk of us being together with even Jamison in your past and you ruined any chance we had!”
Her bare foot slams down on the flowers I dropped. Petals flutter across the floor, knocked loose. She crushes her foot down again, harder, her face corkscrewing in pain and anger. The smell of broken stems and smashed greenery fills the room. She grinds on the plastic wrapper, wrenching it, and then kicks the whole mess toward the kitchen. It flies, remnants of pink and yellow and purple blooms scattering across the floor.
One word breaks from her before she goes silent again. “Why?”
“For us.” Each word is a tentative prayer. “Please,” I add. “I did it for us. What I told you about that guy following me was true, but when I wanted to go undercover with them, you were so against it.”
&n
bsp; Her brow creases and then fades into the same mask of hurt.
“His name is Quinn,” I say before she stops me. “When we got back from Talia’s, you lay down, so I went to the square and he showed up like I thought he would, like I told you he would.” I hate my desperation. Not for her to believe me, but for her to be proud, to see I’m as capable as her. “I played it perfect. Quinn took me to meet the others.”
“You said you wanted to help with the rent,” she says.
I nod. She doesn’t seem any less mad though, even if she’s taking in my words.
“And I am.” I reach into my pocket. She reacts on instinct, fisting her knives, and I shoot her a look of disbelief at the idea that I’d ever hurt her. Moving slower to avoid startling her, I withdraw the money Nico gave me today and hold it out to her. On the outside, there’s a twenty, another visible below it. “I have more. They’ve been paying me. I told you I can be useful. I mean, come on, Allie, that’s the whole reason you let me stay here.”
Fading into silence, I wait, watching her process what I’ve said. She doesn’t take the money.
The first of two tears slip down Allie’s cheeks. “You think that’s why I let you stay here?” she asks. “Because you’re useful?”
My brain does a stagger start as I go over how we met, every day since. My gaze flashes to the couch beside us where I sleep each night, the sheet folded up on the armrest. “Well…yeah,” I say quietly. Then I raise my voice. “I was smart about it. I didn’t give them anything real. I can tell you where they meet, names, everything. They have no idea we’re really together.”
Allie scoffs. “We are not together. We can’t be together if you’re a hunter.”
Confusion crackles through me. “I’m not with them, Allie. I’m… I’m with you.”
A disgusted sound escapes her.
“Please, I swear I was going to tell you everything. They’re dangerous. They—”
“You lied to me. Again! You’re a liar! You’ve always been a liar!” she snarls, each word edged with the pop of an insult. “Worse, you risked your life to discover shit I’ve known since I was five. I know they’re dangerous!”
The tiniest flame of anger lights inside me. “Don’t treat me like I’m some clueless idiot,” I growl at her.
“No, I guess that would be me, wouldn’t it?” she says, her head shaking as she stares at the floor. “Who cares, though, as long as you win.”
“What?” I manage. I have no idea what that’s even supposed to mean.
“You wanted to be right about this so you went behind my back!”
My head cocks with irritation. “Allie,” I say.
Resignation slumps her shoulders. The words tremble from her, a miniscule betrayal of emotion she’s fighting to hide. “This was never going to work.”
“Bullshit.” She’s angry, which she has every right to be, but we’re not ending like this.
Daring a step toward her, then another, I wait for her to buckle. Instead, she glares at me. Her knives are still drawn.
“You know what?” I snarl, one eyebrow lifting in a challenge. “Maybe I’m pissed, too! Maybe I’m sick of you pretending you give a shit about me when I’m spread out like a murder speed bump on your couch every night!”
Her flinch surprises me. At least she heard.
“You wanted to find out what they were up to? I did that!” I yell, exasperated. “They’re looking for Corbin! They think I’m looking for Jamison!” I expect some reaction and get nothing, so I keep going. “Who’s CJ, Allie?”
She balks at the name. “How do you know about—”
“Call him. Ask him about the girl he’s going to the movies with tomorrow.”
Her expression only grows more confused.
“She’s a hunter. A couple weeks ago you did a resurrection where there was a pool, right?” I ask, but I don’t wait for her answer. “It was a trap. They were going to sell you for your blood. They took Jason Jourdain because you ditched them. I’m trying to find out where he is. If he’s still alive, I can get him back. That’ll prove to your people I’m not a hunter. It’ll be enough to clear you and Talia and me. I had a plan! I was going to tell you everything.”
I expect relief, gratitude. Instead, I get one word from her. “Unbelievable.”
My temper flares. “You couldn’t have found out on your own,” I hurl back. “You need me and it scares you.”
“Is that what you want to hear?” she screams at me, close enough for her breath to skate across my lips, and for a split second I’m sure she understands. Then she brings it all crashing down. “Because it’s a fantasy! I don’t need you! We’re not a team! I am terrified every second of every day you’re going to do something stupid and get yourself killed over me,” she yells. “Or because of me!”
Those icy eyes skitter across mine, never meeting them. “Now I have to worry you’re going to get me killed as well? You’ve proven again and again you can’t be trusted.”
At my surprised bark of a laugh, she pauses.
“Christ, you open your mouth and Talia spills out! Is it too much to ask for you to think for yourself?” I yell, slamming the heel of my palm into my temple to drill home my point. “Would I do anything I thought would hurt you? Would I put you in danger?”
“Yes!” she says. “Enough times that I’ve lost track!”
Some of my anger slides away. I’ve held a knife to this girl’s throat. I delivered her over to a monster.
“I’m trying to do things right this time.” My voice cracks halfway through the sentence and I swallow to get the rest out. “I’m trying to help.”
“Please, don’t,” she says, a sarcastic chuckle tinging the words. It fades into a silence that lasts a beat before she suddenly fills it. “I need you gone. Tonight. Now.”
I say her name, but she only shakes her head.
“Leave town.”
“And go where?” A flutter of nervousness starts inside me. “Look, if I messed up, I’m sorry. You’re right. I lied. Let’s talk this out, okay?” I pause. “Please.”
Please. It’s a broken record of a word. I keep saying it, when I should tell her I love her, that I did this because I didn’t want her to shut me out.
Her knuckles go white, her hand fisted around the knife she still clutches. “Let me be very clear. I’m done.”
The finality in the words hits me like a slap. Her shoulder slams into my arm when she charges past me. The door opens.
When I whirl toward her, she tilts her chin toward the hallway beyond. “Get out. Now, Ploy.”
Everything inside me feels carved, raw. “Or what, you’ll kill me?”
She raises her knife and the last of my hope crumbles. Challenging her was a mistake. When Allie’s forced into a corner, she won’t back down.
If she could do it, hurt me, kill me, I don’t want to know. Instead, I edge around her and into the hall. “Tell me I was wrong to do this,” I say.
“You wanted us to be a team,” she says. For every step she takes, I retreat. “I told you why it wasn’t worth the risk. You did it anyway. How is that a team?”
“My risk paid off. Or at least, it will,” I say. “Warn CJ. Tell your resurrectionists they better be on their toes. If the hunters can’t get him, they’ll need a replacement to sell.”
“Is that where your share of the rent money came from?” she asks. “Trafficking teenagers to murderers?”
We stare each other down, neither one of us willing to relent.
“Fine,” I snap. I toss the fold of money onto the floor. Let her deal with it. “You want me gone? I’m gone.” I manage exactly one step down the hallway before I backpedal. “Maybe I was stupid. Maybe I lied, and maybe I could have gotten hurt. But everything I did was because I care about you. I want to be good enough for you, Allie.” I can’t keep the spite from my tone. “If you can’t see that, then I guess I should have been a little more worried about whether you were good enough for me.”
For
the length of a breath, she studies me. “How much easier would my life be,” she says. “If I had let Talia shoot you in that cellar?”
The moment stretches like a dare as I stand, too stunned to move. My throat goes tight. I don’t bother with a response. What is there to say? This time, for once, I do exactly what Allie asked me.
I go.
Allie
“Again,” I demand. Sweat drips from my chin as I high kick into the padded glove Talia’s holding at chest level. She stumbles and then shifts the glove to her side to catch my punch. We’ve practiced these training routines since we were children, the repetition burned into our bodies and bones.
“Nice,” she says before we reset our positions. “One more time.”
Last night, I called every resurrectionist in the notebook as soon as I closed the door behind Christopher, warned them all, including Talia. No one’s going anywhere alone, and until I deal with the hunters, jobs are on hold. Talia didn’t ask about my swollen eyes when I rolled into the gym at a quarter past noon. She didn’t ask what happened between Christopher and me last night, only confirmed how he’d found the information, and let it go. It’s a reaction that has me on edge.
I kick. She blocks and then deviates from our routine with a series of punches. I come at her, not holding back. After forty-five minutes of this, she’s slowing.
“Okay, you’ve gotta give me a second,” she says. She drops to the cushioned floor with a soft thud and then leans her palms on her knees, which I’m grateful for because I wasn’t about to tap out first.
I plop beside her and gulp as I lay back, my sweaty hair coiling underneath me, hands flopped to my sides. For a long moment there’s only the sound of our staggered breaths.
“No more routines.” I gasp at each syllable and make a mental note to work on cardio. I’ve been way off track the last couple months. Now, my distractions are gone. “No more scripted crap in the next round.”
“Wow, you’ve got a shit ton of misplaced anger,” Talia says.
I grumble a non-answer as I rise into a sitting position.
Something Grave: The Resurrectionists Series book two Page 17