Only Ashes Remain

by Rebecca Schaeffer

  Nita stared, and her voice was slightly incredulous. “You just let him go? Forgave him? After he murdered your whole family?”

  Diana flinched. “No. Never. I won’t ever forgive him. I just . . .” She trailed off, then sighed. “I just realized that hurting him wouldn’t bring them back. Nothing would. Murdering him was only going to make me feel awful, and maybe get me arrested. He’d already taken away my past. Killing him might take away my future. I wasn’t going to let him ruin the rest of my life too.”

  Nita sighed, finally seeing what Diana was trying to tell her. “Look, Diana, I appreciate the story. But we come from very different pasts. Fabricio is still actively trying to kill me.”

  “Because you keep trying to kill him?” Diana countered.

  Nita opened her mouth, then closed it.

  “Tell me, did he decide to kill you because you tried to kill him?”

  Nita’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know about that?”

  “I didn’t.” She shrugged. “But I do now.”

  “You just . . . guessed?”

  “Based on your character. I bet you’d tried to take vengeance and it hadn’t worked.” Diana’s voice was soft. “And now he’s after you because he thinks you’re after him.”

  Diana might be right about that. Nita considered, and decided it didn’t matter. “I still want him dead. He deserves to die for what he’s done. Besides, if I don’t kill him, he’ll keep coming after me.”

  “You said you saved him. Do you really want to kill him?”

  “Yes.”

  Diana pursed her mouth. “Murder isn’t the answer.”

  “Some people in the world only understand violence. If I want to communicate with them, I need to speak their language.”

  “That’s not—”

  Nita sighed and rose. “Look. I get it. You want me to understand that murder is bad. That all of this mess is happening because I tried to kill someone and failed. But the thing is, murder will solve this. And it’s a little late to be preaching morals at me. I’d say around a few hundred dead bodies too late to tell me murder is wrong.”

  And with that, Nita turned around and walked back upstairs, leaving Diana alone in the dark shop.

  Thirty

  NITA WOKE UP when the morning sun spilled across her eyes and burned into her dreams. She cracked open her eyes, then immediately closed them. The light was too strong.

  When she opened them again, she rolled over to the other side of the bed. She found Kovit sitting up, typing on his phone. He turned to her, and the morning light brushed his cheeks and dappled his skin with soft light. It spread through the gaps in his eyelashes so she could see each individual one, and softened the line of his jaw.

  “What are you doing?” she asked sleepily.

  He hesitated, then looked away. “Chatting.”

  “With?”

  “Internet friends.”

  Nita blinked. She’d forgotten he had them. People he’d been friends with for years. People who had no idea what kind of person he was, but still cared for him.

  She looked away. “What are you talking about?”

  “Henry.”

  Nita’s head jerked up. “What?”

  Kovit swallowed. “Somehow Henry knows I’m alive. Only you, me, and this group knew I was alive. I know you wouldn’t tell him. You didn’t even know who Henry was before this.”

  Nita closed her eyes. “So you want to know—”

  “If it’s my friends.” He shrugged. “I want to know if somehow one of them accidentally outed me, or Henry somehow hacked our chatroom.”

  She closed her eyes. “How can you possibly find that out?”

  “By asking.” Nita tilted her head to the side, and he elaborated. “They know I wasn’t raised in great circumstances. I think they all think I had an abusive family. I guess it’s close enough. Anyway, I said that I’d run away when I met up with Anna and the others in Detroit. But now I’m telling them he found me, and asking if anyone approached them or if anyone had anything suspicious happen to them lately.”

  “And?”

  He shook his head. “No. If they gave me away by accident, they don’t seem to know it.”

  She closed her eyes. “That was always unlikely.”

  “I know.” He looked away. “But it was the best option.”

  Nita nodded. “I’m sorry.”

  He sighed softly. “I was stupid for not being more careful. I mean, Henry liked to micromanage everything else in my life, why not this too? He probably hacked the chatroom years ago and has been eavesdropping ever since.”

  Nita shivered. When Kovit had first mentioned online friends, she wondered why she’d never considered that. But now she understood—somewhere inside, she knew her mother would’ve found out and ruined it.

  No, friends were liabilities.

  Kovit tucked his phone away. “Never mind. There are more important things to deal with.”

  Nita sighed. “You’re right. It doesn’t matter how Henry found out, I suppose. We have to handle it now.”

  He laughed, light and free. “Actually, I meant breakfast.”

  She stared at him. That was a joke, right?

  He nodded to the table. “I ducked out to the Tim Hortons across the street.”

  It wasn’t a joke?

  Nita walked over to the table, and the moment she pried open the paper bags, her nose was assaulted with the smell of fresh bacon and eggs. Her stomach rumbled, and she dove in.

  While she was eating, Kovit sat across from her and tapped his fingers on the table. “Though we really do need to deal with this.”

  “What exactly did the email from Henry say?” Nita asked through a bite of sandwich. “Did it give a timeline or anything for responding?”

  Kovit blinked. “I didn’t actually look. I think my mind sort of shut down partway through.”

  He pulled out his phone and checked the email. “He says if I don’t respond within twenty-four hours, he’ll release the video.”

  It had already been at least twelve since he sent it, probably more. Kovit would need to respond soon.

  “Anything else?”

  “It says he’s in Toronto and wants me to join him. He’ll buy me a plane ticket from wherever I am to come here.”

  Nita tapped her fingers on the desk. “We could ask him to get you a ticket from somewhere far away. Singapore or something. Buy some time.”

  Kovit shook his head. “Henry wouldn’t believe it. Besides, why would I be in Singapore anyway?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe you’re practicing your . . . whatever language they speak there.”

  “English.”

  “Oh.”

  Kovit sighed and leaned back. “Delaying things won’t change anything.”

  “You’re right.” Nita’s voice was firm. “We need to kill him.”

  “Kill him?” Kovit’s voice was soft.

  “Kill him,” she confirmed.

  He looked away. “Look, Nita . . .”

  A stone sank in her stomach at his tone of voice. That meant nothing good. “Yes?”

  “I don’t think I can do that.”

  Right. He had his rules. She wished he were a little more flexible on them, given that his life was in danger. But fine, she could get around them.

  “Okay.” Her voice was cautious, each word walking a tightrope. “What if I kill him for you?”

  He flinched and looked away. “No. I just . . .”

  “You don’t want him to die.” Her voice was flat.

  “I don’t.”

  She stared at him. Her brain was encased in cement, and she was trying to crack it out so it could stretch over to whatever his line of thinking was. “He wanted to torture you. He wanted you dead. He’s the reason you were sent to South America.”

  “Yes.”

  “And now he’s trying to blackmail you into being his slave again.”

  “Yes.”

  Nita kept staring at him. “How can you not
want to kill him?”

  “He raised me.” Kovit met her eyes, his gaze calm and implacable. “He may not have loved me, he may have thought of me as nothing more than a tool. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t care about him.”

  She sighed, suddenly tired. This was not the time for his morals to surface.

  Nita gritted her teeth. “Kovit. Do you want to live?”

  He stared at her. “Of course.”

  “Do you think you’ll survive if he leaks that video?”

  “No.”

  “Do you want to work for him again?”

  He shivered softly, and Nita couldn’t tell if it was anticipation or fear. He took a long time to respond, but when he spoke, his voice was firm. “No.”

  “All right. Then tell me—how are we going to deal with his blackmail?”

  “I’ll talk to him.” Kovit tilted his chin up. His dark eyes were tight, and his face could have been a statue.

  “All right,” Nita said amicably. “Do you think that will work?”

  He hesitated, then looked away. “Probably not.” He let out a breath and met her eyes. “But I’m still going to try.”

  Nita bit down choice words of frustration. It would be so much easier to just kill Henry and get on with things. She didn’t need this extra complication.

  “Fine.” Nita sighed. “If you can’t talk him out of it, we kill him, though.”

  “Nita—”

  “Is there another way to stop him aside from killing him?” she snapped.

  “No.” The words sounded like she’d scraped them from his throat with a butter knife.

  “Then it’s settled.” She pursed her lips. “Now, we’re going to need to deal with Fabricio first, since his plane is arriving shortly. I assume you have no problem with killing him?”

  He smiled, slow and contented and full of anticipation. “None at all.”

  Thirty-One

  THE AIRPORT WAS BUSIER than Nita remembered, and she stuck close to Kovit as they walked through. There was only one direct Bogotá–Toronto flight, so it hadn’t been too hard to figure out Fabricio’s arrival time. It was the same flight Nita had taken. They could have chosen a flight with a layover, but Nita was pretty sure that INHUP would always use direct flights where possible.

  Nita and Kovit walked along the passenger pickup and drop-off area, heading to the area where INHUP had waited for her before. Nita had been worried that they would stand out at the airport, her memories of North America tied strongly to her very white Chicago suburb, but this was Toronto, and she hadn’t needed to worry. They blended in easily.

  They rounded a bend and saw a section for airport vehicles. A black, nondescript van parked right at the end, one that looked exactly like the one that had picked Nita up, right down to the license plate in the front.

  Found you.

  They approached, and the same square-jawed driver that had picked her up was drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. Nita frowned, ducking a bit behind Kovit, so she wasn’t recognized.

  Kovit turned to her. “You sure about this?”

  “Of course. It’ll be fine.”

  He looked doubtful, but he approached the van. Nita circled around behind another vehicle, out of view. Kovit rapped gently on the driver’s window, and when it lowered, he asked, “Excuse me, I’m lost. Can you tell me where terminal three pickup is?”

  Nita couldn’t make out the words of the INHUP driver, but she slipped closer to the car, running low while Kovit kept the man occupied so that she was crouched in front of the grille. She ducked her face, keeping it down as she moved. When she did look up it was to check for security cameras.

  The last thing she needed was yet more attention.

  She couldn’t see any pointing directly at them, though that wasn’t a guarantee. And even if there were, they wouldn’t be reviewed until well after she’d made her escape. Kovit, with his dark hair falling into his eyes and obscuring his features, would be unidentifiable.

  Nita was a little more distinctive, since she was already known to INHUP. Which was why she’d tucked her hair under a baseball cap and brought fluid into her nose and cheeks so they swelled up, deforming her features. It was uncomfortable, and she was going to change it the moment they were out of the public eye, but it was good enough for now.

  Kovit’s eyes never even flicked to her, though she knew he’d seen her duck in front of the car. He backed up from the vehicle and started pointing. “So, I go that way, then into the building where that orange sign is? Or where the green sign is?”

  The INHUP agent hesitated, then got out of the car to point for Kovit.

  Perfect.

  Nita slipped in behind him, shoved a needle in his neck, and pushed down on the plunger.

  The man’s eyes rolled up, but before he could finish falling, Kovit and Nita each grabbed an arm and casually looped them over their shoulders so it looked like the man was still standing. Nita popped the trunk, and they shoved the unconscious body inside.

  Nita put the used needle back in the small metal case. The drugs and syringe were courtesy of Adair, items Nita had added to her deal with him. Nita didn’t ask why he had a stash of ketamine in his shop already, or what he used it for. She didn’t want to know.

  She looked down at the unconscious man in the trunk and swallowed, her mind slipping back to when she’d been captured by Reyes. The feel of the needle in her shoulder, how fast the drug had covered her glutamine receptors.

  She could still remember the sensation of her fingers scraping the floor and the all-encompassing fear, the desperate crawl to the bathroom to stall for time until her mother came. Only Nita hadn’t made it more than a foot. And her mother had never come.

  “Nita? You gonna close that?”

  Nita blinked and looked to Kovit, eyes squinting in memory. “Hey, I never asked you.”

  He tilted his head. “What?”

  “Were you there when Reyes drugged and kidnapped me in Lima?”

  He shook his head. “I never got to leave the market. If I’d been in Lima, I’d’ve run.”

  Nita tried to pull up the memory again. Had it been Fabricio who injected her? She remembered a boy and a smile and Reyes’ shoes. But nothing else.

  Or had it just been some random lackey hired by Reyes?

  Nita shook her head and closed the trunk. It didn’t matter.

  Kovit had taken the jacket and sunglasses from the unconscious man and now put them on and got in the driver’s side of the car. “How do I look?”

  Nita considered. “Fine, but definitely not like the guy who was here before.”

  “Is it the hair?” Kovit smoothed his tousled hair.

  Nita snorted. “It’s the skin. He was white as a Hollywood action star. And you’re—”

  “Not.” He grinned. “I’m prettier, though.”

  “You are,” Nita agreed, because it was true, especially after he’d eaten pain. Which, given the brittleness of his hair and the bags under his eyes, he should do soon. “But they’re going to notice pretty fast you’re not who you should be.”

  He shrugged. “You’ll just have to be fast with the sedative.”

  Nita nodded and crawled in the back. After a moment, she reconsidered and got in the trunk with the unconscious man. Better angle.

  Not a moment too soon. Because down the parking aisle, two familiar figures approached the car.

  Fabricio walked carefully, his eyes nervous and flicking around, his mouth pinched. The angle of the sun cast his face in shadow, darkening the blue-gray of his eyes to a near black, and shot black and gold highlights through his dark brown hair.

  Beside him was Quispe.

  She turned to say something to Fabricio with a gentle smile. Her immaculate black suit was a sharp contrast to his floppy sweatpants and T-shirt.

  Nita swallowed and uncapped her syringe, suddenly extremely glad they hadn’t decided to take out the INHUP agents in a more permanent way, like Adair had suggested when Nita asked to bu
y his ketamine. She wouldn’t have been able to go through with killing Quispe.

  For the first time, she actually felt she understood Kovit’s rules about not hurting people he knew. But it was still different. Nita liked Quispe. She knew Fabricio, and all she felt for him was a desperate desire to murder him.

  Nita’s heart jackhammered in her chest as the pair came closer and closer. Her sweaty fingers clutched the syringe, and she struggled to keep her breathing even.

  Quispe opened the car door, and motioned Fabricio inside. He crawled in, pleather squealing in protest as he slid by. Quispe followed, with far less noise and far more poise.

  She froze when she saw Kovit in the front.

  “What—”

  Nita drove a syringe into her neck, and the agent slumped onto the seat of the car, before her body weight pulled her down onto the floor of the back seat.

  Fabricio freaked and went for the open door, but Nita slammed it closed and yelled, “Drive!”

  The doors all locked automatically when the car started moving. Kovit pulled them away from the curb and into traffic.

  Fabricio yanked on the handles repeatedly, then started smashing the windows, but nothing worked. He spun to Kovit, but Nita vaulted over the back seat out of the trunk and into the seat beside Fabricio. She kicked him in the face as she was in the air, and he yelped, falling backwards and cracking his head on the window.

  “I wouldn’t do anything to the driver if I were you.” Nita’s voice was calm as she settled into her seat beside Fabricio. She removed the swelling on her face and took off her hat. She slipped into Spanish without even thinking about it. “After all, we’re driving, and we’re about to get on the highway. People don’t survive highway accidents very often.”

  Fabricio turned slowly to face her, his eyes huge. There was a small smudge of blood on the window where’d he hit his head. “Nita.”

  Nita smiled, sharp and predatory. “Hello again, Fabricio.”

  Thirty-Two

  FABRICIO SWALLOWED and stared at her. Nita flicked out her scalpel—also courtesy of Adair, she’d never been happier to have a scalpel back in her possession—and gave Fabricio a smile. “I suggest you stay right where you are until we get where we’re going.”