Only Ashes Remain

by Rebecca Schaeffer

  He blinked watery eyes and gingerly touched the back of his head. “So you can kill me with less mess?”

  Nita just smiled wider.

  His eyes flicked to the front seat. “Who’s your friend?”

  “This is Kovit.” Nita’s finger gently traced the line of her scalpel, drawing blood and healing it. “You remember, I said that the market you sold me to had a zannie in its employ?”

  Fabricio’s face went gray, and his eyes flicked to Kovit. “You’re joking.”

  Nita switched to English. “Kovit, he thinks I’m joking that you’re a zannie.”

  “Well.” Kovit took off his sunglasses and met Fabricio’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “I’d be delighted to give him a demonstration, but I’m driving at the moment. When we stop”—a flash of teeth—“I’ll make sure he won’t doubt.”

  Nita opened her mouth to translate for Fabricio, but to her shock, he responded in English, lightly accented. “I’m fine without a demonstration, thanks. I’ll take your word for it.”

  Nita swallowed the bitter taste in her mouth as she remembered how he’d faked not understanding English at all when he was her mother’s captive. Just another of his many lies.

  “It’s no trouble. I do so love proving doubters wrong.” Kovit gave Fabricio a warped smile, one of his patented grins that implied all the dark and cruel things Kovit wanted to do to his victims. Nita suppressed a shudder at the sight.

  Fabricio swallowed and tore his eyes away from Kovit and back to Nita. “Nita, please, can we talk about this?”

  “Talk about what? How you sent half the black market to kill me? How you hired a mafia family to gun me down in the streets?” Nita’s voice was cold. “I think we’re done talking.”

  “You poisoned me!” he cried. “You told me you’d stop at nothing until I was dead! I was trying to protect myself!”

  “Like you were trying to protect yourself when you sold me out to Reyes?”

  “Yes!” he yelled, then froze, eyes flicking back and forth and mouth turning down. “I mean, no.”

  Nita tsked. “It’s a little late to be claiming innocence, Fabricio. Can’t we dispose of this facade?”

  He glared at her, then looked away. “Look, I made a mistake. I was scared and desperate and stupid, and I regret what I did.”

  “You only regret it because I got away and you got caught.”

  He winced. “That’s not true.”

  “Save me your pity speech.”

  The car slowed, and Kovit angled it off the highway, down onto a small rural road. They bumped along, no other cars in sight. Fields stretched in front of them, occasionally blocked by a stand of trees. A row of quaint country houses sat just off the road, looking as pretty as if they’d been copied from a postcard. Just past them, a dilapidated farmhouse destroyed the picture.

  Fabricio’s eyes flicked over the scenery, then jerked back to Nita. “Where are you taking me?”

  “Somewhere no one will find your body.”

  Kovit pulled into a small dirt road, down a winding lane to a small farmhouse that looked like it had seen better days. Much better days.

  This was also courtesy of Adair—apparently it was one of his many safe houses. She’d initially assumed he disposed of bodies here, but then she remembered kelpies ate people, so any evidence of bodies was probably at the bottom of the lake after he’d finished eating.

  They pulled up, and the car stopped with a crunch of gravel. Kovit killed the engine, plunging them all into sudden silence.

  Nita leaned forward to menace Fabricio, but he twisted suddenly, foot coming up and snapping against her face. She flew back, and this time it was her head that smacked into the window.

  He ripped out of the car, the doors having unlocked when the car stopped, and pelted away, feet skidding on the gravel, breathing fast and panicked.

  Kovit swore and scrambled for his seat belt.

  Nita clutched her bruised face, cursing herself for not switching the child lock on. Her cheekbone ground unpleasantly and the back of her head hurt. She healed them as she opened the other door. She got out gingerly, stumbling as her vision wavered while she was healing one of the wounds, eyes peeled for Fabricio.

  She didn’t see him.

  Kovit came around from the other side of the car and nodded toward the farmhouse.

  He closed his eyes and licked his lips. “He went that way.”

  He shivered softly as Fabricio’s pain trickled through him, those small micro pains that all humans had—a hangnail, a scrape, a bruise. No human had no pain. And Kovit was very good at detecting pain.

  Fabricio couldn’t escape from them.

  Kovit pocketed the car keys as he walked toward the farmhouse. Nita fell in step beside him.

  The farmhouse was small, and there was only one door. The faded red paint on the building had been worn down by the elements, but it still stood, albeit slightly crooked. The door, once painted in white, now flaking in gray, was ajar. Darkness swallowed whatever was on the other side.

  Kovit nodded forward, and Nita took a tentative step, shoving the door open further. Silence. Darkness.

  She reached a hand over for the light switch, and something smashed onto her fingers before she could push it.

  Pain ricocheted up her arm, and she shrieked as her knuckles popped. She’d been densifying her bones, otherwise her whole hand would have shattered. As it was, cracks spread across her bones, spiderwebbing through them even as muscles burst and crushed blood vessels oozed into her skin.

  Kovit gasped as her pain shot into him like a drug, his body jerking in a moment of ecstasy, and that was when Fabricio leapt outside, past Nita. He cracked a shovel over Kovit’s head while he was distracted by the pain.

  Kovit went down, and Nita screamed, launching herself at Fabricio, scalpel out.

  He swung clumsily at her with the shovel, and she ducked, going under his guard and stabbing him with her scalpel. She caught him in the side, and he howled, blood seeping from the wound and staining his gray T-shirt.

  He didn’t drop the shovel, though, and swung again, a single, panicked motion. Nita dodged backwards, into the darkness of the farmhouse, and Fabricio’s eyes widened a fraction before he reached forward and yanked the door shut.

  Nita was plunged into darkness, and she swore, fingers scrabbling at the door handle, but there was a solid thunk as Fabricio wedged the shovel handle against it. The door didn’t budge.

  Swearing, Nita rammed her shoulders against it over and over until finally the wooden haft of the shovel snapped and she was free.

  Kovit was groaning on the ground, rubbing his head, and Nita took a second to assess that he was okay. He was bleeding from the temple, and rubbing his head, but seemed otherwise fine. Relief made her shoulders sag for a second before she realized that Fabricio had taken the keys from Kovit and was heading for the car.

  Nita swore and pelted after him.

  Her feet crunched on the gravel as she ran, arms pumping, pushing adrenaline through her system. She sped up, faster and faster, her body a streak of tightly wound speed, like she was in a Terminator movie.

  The trunk of the car was open, showing a still unconscious Quispe lying curled in the back. But the original driver, the INHUP agent, had stumbled out and was blearily looking around with an air of sleepy confusion. His eyes widened and he fumbled at his waist when he saw Nita streaking toward him, but thankfully she’d disarmed him earlier.

  Fabricio shot past him, ignoring him completely, and leapt into the driver’s seat. He didn’t close any of the doors before starting the engine and slamming his foot down on the gas.

  He sped down the gravel road and into the distance, one hand on the wheel, the other clutching his bloody side. He looked back once at Nita, his blue-gray eyes huge and terrified. Then he was gone.

  Thirty-Three

  “GODDAMMIT!” NITA’S VOICE ROSE, and she considered chasing Fabricio down, pumping her body until it could run with superhuman sp
eed.

  Then she remembered that Adair had said there was another vehicle in the farmhouse he used for disposing of bodies. They were supposed to transport Fabricio’s body back to Adair using that vehicle and leave the INHUP car with the unconscious agents in a parking lot in Markham.

  She spun around, racing back to the barn and snapping the light on. Inside was a beat-up white ice cream truck with little pictures of snow cones and Popsicles and smiling children painted all along the side.

  Of course it was an ice cream truck. How else would you keep bodies at the right temperature?

  Cursing Adair and his sense of humor, Nita hopped in. The keys were already in the ignition, and she slammed her foot on the gas. The engine roared, sputtered, and stalled. Swearing, Nita lifted her foot and shoved it back on the gas, but nothing happened.

  She swore again and kicked the car. She looked down at the stick shift beside her, and stared at it, a horrified realization coming over her.

  She had no idea how to drive.

  No. Fucking. Clue.

  She’d never been behind the wheel of a car before. The movies made it look easy, and Kovit had made it seem easy. But she didn’t know what to do. There was a third pedal under the wheel, and she didn’t know why it was there. There was gas, brake and . . . that thing.

  That thing that was probably the key to getting the car to work.

  Nita screamed and smashed the steering wheel with her fist before crumpling against it.

  Fabricio was gone.

  Even if she could drive, there was no way she’d catch him now.

  She’d had him in her hands. He’d been right there. And she’d let him get away. Again.

  First the poisoning, now this.

  Why hadn’t she just stabbed him while she was in the car? It would have been so easy. Yes, messier. Yes, more evidence. But that could’ve been dealt with. She could have tossed the car in a lake and left the INHUP agents lying on the ground in a parking lot, instead of in the car in the parking lot.

  She should have stabbed him, ripped his heart out while they were driving down the highway.

  Her hands shook against the wheel, and she felt the tears of frustration trickling down her cheeks.

  Fuck.

  Fuck.

  Fuck.

  Would he report her? He’d have to say something to INHUP to explain the kidnapping. But the same rules still applied—if he reported her, she’d report him, and it was clear he didn’t want that.

  No, she suspected now that he’d escaped from everything, he’d take his fake passport and the money from selling Nita, and buy a plane ticket to somewhere else.

  Somewhere she couldn’t get him.

  But he could still get her.

  She let out a breath. It was fine. She could figure out his new fake name. Then she could find what flight he got on. She wasn’t sure how she’d do this yet, but she would. Fabricio wouldn’t escape a third time.

  Nita brushed her frizzing hair from her face, pocketed the car keys, and got out. Her feet scuffed the dirt and moldy hay on the farmhouse floor, sneakers kicking up sawdust and ancient horse poop, and she made her way outside to check on Kovit.

  He’d seemed dazed but fine when she’d checked earlier, but his temple had been bleeding, so she should probably stitch that up while they made a new plan. A better plan.

  Outside, the sun was too bright, and the long blades of grass in the field swayed softly in the breeze. There was silence.

  Until it was broken by a scream.

  Nita tensed, then ran forward, pelting down the gravel path. She stopped abruptly, several paces from where the INHUP car had been. She’d forgotten about the INHUP driver, who’d gotten out of the car before Fabricio left.

  The INHUP agent was on the ground now, arm twisted behind his back. Kovit crouched on top like a cat with a bird, whole body lithely arched and a smile twisting his mouth that was both playful and cruel. He yanked the arm tighter, until it popped with a crunch.

  The agent screamed again, sharp and harsh, and began to sob, begging Kovit to stop.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Nita’s voice started normal but pitched high and shrieky by the end.

  Kovit turned to her slowly. There was blood coating one side of his face, and his whole body shivered as he consumed the man’s pain. “I thought it was fairly self-explanatory.”

  Nita opened her mouth, then closed it. She swallowed and said softly, “I thought we agreed not to kill the agents.”

  “We did.” Kovit nodded agreeably. “But then this one woke up and saw both our faces.”

  Nita’s stomach plunged. There was no way to make him unsee her face. And she didn’t want either of them in the police station answering questions about why they’d kidnapped INHUP agents and Fabricio.

  Kovit shrugged, and voiced the words Nita hadn’t wanted to hear. “He has to die.”

  Nita bowed her head and swallowed. Her hands shook, and she told herself it was from all the adrenaline still coursing through her system after chasing Fabricio.

  “Please, I won’t say anything,” the INHUP agent sobbed beneath Kovit.

  Kovit casually reached around and grabbed the man’s jaw, tsking. “That’s enough from you. No one believes a word you say right now.”

  Then he casually jabbed his shoulder down into the agent’s back, causing him to scream. And while his mouth was open, Kovit used his other hand to reach in and spear the man’s tongue with his knife.

  Nita jerked her head away before she could see what happened, but the shriek and the gurgling and the muffled “mahh tunhhh” the agent was screaming told the whole story.

  Kovit hissed softly, and the shaking advanced up Nita’s arm like a disease, spreading throughout her whole body.

  Would you like me to pull out his tongue, Nita? Her mother’s voice echoed in her memory, as clear as if she were here right now talking about mutilating Fabricio. I have some pliers in the other room.

  “Nita?” Kovit’s voice was sharp. “Look at me.”

  She took a shaky breath and turned her eyes to him.

  His face was beautiful, each ripple of pain going through him making his skin glow with health, his hair shine a little more. He raised a bloody hand and slicked errant strands of dark hair off his face, the blood holding it back like pomade.

  “This man has to die.” His voice was quiet and sharp. “Tell me you understand that.”

  “I do.” But her voice was too soft.

  Kovit’s mouth tightened. “This was your plan. You knew the risks. I asked you, repeatedly, if you were sure you wanted to do this, if you understood the consequences if it went wrong, and you said yes every time.”

  She had. She just hadn’t thought it would go wrong.

  But that was stupid. Every plan she’d made here had gone wrong.

  The INHUP agent screamed again with his gurgling tongueless voice, and something crunched like breaking a piece of celery.

  The shrieking got louder. He began to beg, a soft, whimpering sound, pleading for his life but unable to articulate the words anymore.

  Nita swallowed. “I . . . This is just . . . Let’s just kill him and get it over with if we have to.”

  There was silence, then Kovit whispered, so softly she could barely hear him, “I’m hungry.”

  Nita’s stomach tightened. She couldn’t look at him. “Oh.”

  “He’s going to die anyway.” Kovit’s voice grew stronger. “So I might as well get a meal out of him.”

  Nita swallowed and nodded, but she couldn’t look at him.

  Beneath Kovit, the man whimpered and renewed his struggles. Kovit snarled, and twisted the arm so the shattered bone ripped through skin and thrust itself into the air. The scream was enough to make Nita flinch.

  Nita lay in her cell, powerless, listening to Mirella scream, the pressure from her voice tearing at her throat until her screams became gurgles of blood.

  Nita wrenched her mind away from that. “I . . .”

/>   Mirella screamed, high and harsh, the slightly mad sound of Kovit’s laughter beneath it like a perverse symphony.

  Nita reached up and clutched her head.

  She could accept killing him. There was nothing to be done. He’d seen their faces. It hadn’t been part of the plan, and Nita felt more than a little sick about it, but she couldn’t see a way out of it now.

  But torture hadn’t been part of the plan.

  Hypocrite. You asked Kovit to help you because of his skills, and now you’re going to be squeamish when he uses them.

  Something tight and painful pulsed in her chest.

  The man on the ground wept, his body twisted and broken. Kovit vibrated from the constant stimuli, but his face was cold.

  Nita closed her eyes, trying to drown out Mirella’s screams. “I’m . . . I’m going to wait in the barn. Come get me when you’re done.”

  She turned away before he could see her expression. She didn’t know what it looked like, but she knew it wasn’t something she wanted him to see.

  She walked away quickly, as fast as she could without outright running.

  “Nita, stop, wait.” A sudden crunch, and the whimpering increased, followed by agonized howling. Nita stole a glance and wished she hadn’t. The man’s legs were a mangled mess. He wouldn’t be running anywhere.

  Nita closed her eyes and tried to burn the image from her brain.

  Kovit approached and frowned. “Are you okay?”

  “Fine.” Nita looked away.

  He hesitated, then in the softest voice whispered, “Are you afraid of me?”

  Nita hesitated a moment too long, and his expression cracked and fell into something soft and real and painfully vulnerable before closing over in a dead poker face.

  “No.” Nita said, but it was too late.

  He was silent for a long time. Then, “You don’t like me eating.”

  “No,” she admitted.

  “You think it’s evil.”

  “Of course. Not even you would deny that.” She glared back at him, bristling, defensive, though she couldn’t have actually explained why. She snapped, “Why are you pushing this? You stopped me from seeing that video because you knew this already!”