Only Ashes Remain

by Rebecca Schaeffer

  But was speculation enough? What if she had been caught on camera? At the airport? A traffic camera?

  Sweat slid down her back and pooled under her arms. Her breathing came too fast.

  Too late, she realized she’d been silent too long. What would an innocent person say here?

  “Are you okay?” she asked Agent Quispe, trying to muster concern. She didn’t wholly succeed. “Is Fabricio okay?”

  “We’re both fine, but the driver is missing.” Quispe’s eyes were hard on Nita’s. “And Fabricio has decided he doesn’t trust INHUP’s protection anymore and has left us.”

  “Oh.” So, Fabricio had stayed long enough to make sure Quispe woke up before telling her he was leaving. It made sense—he didn’t want to be classified as a missing person and have INHUP hunting for him.

  Nita cleared her throat. “And neither of you saw your attackers?”

  “No.” This clearly pained Quispe. “We didn’t. We’re combing through security footage now.”

  “I’m curious what we’ll find on the tapes.” Levesque’s eyes slid to Nita. “Or who we’ll find.”

  Nita swallowed. “You don’t really think I had anything to do with that? You can’t blame me for every bad thing that happens in Toronto!”

  Detective Levesque smiled. “No one’s blaming you, Nita. We’re just having a discussion.”

  Discussion. Yeah, right.

  Nita’s eyes flicked between the two of them, panic rising. She felt trapped, like a caged animal. They knew everything. She thought she’d been so clever, and now she was sitting here, the consequences of her actions staring her in the face. They were going to arrest her and take her to prison.

  The walls seemed to pulse around her, closing in. She was in a cage, just like the market, and they wanted to put her in another cage forever. Nita would never get out of jail given her crimes. Even if she survived the experience, which she doubted.

  Sweat dripped down Nita’s forehead, and the silence dragged.

  Then Quispe asked, “Is there something you want to tell us, Nita?”

  Nita’s breath came in short, sharp gasps, and she looked up at the camera that was recording everything.

  How could she get out of this?

  Then the door opened, and Nita’s mother stood there. Her hair down, red streaking through the black like it was dripping blood.

  “Hello, everyone. What did I miss?”

  Forty-One

  NITA HAD NEVER BEEN so grateful to see anyone in her life as she was to see her mother right then.

  Detective Levesque rose. “You can’t . . . How did you . . . ?”

  Nita’s mother waltzed into the interrogation room like she owned it. Her boot heels clicked on the floor with each slow, deliberate step, and her wide shark smile was hypnotic. She smiled at Levesque like she was Adair, with his terrifying mouth, just waiting to swallow the detective whole.

  “I just told the officers out front I was here to see my niece, and they led me here.”

  She sauntered over to Nita and stood behind her. Her mother wrapped her arms around Nita from behind, and reached for the papers Detective Levesque had been showing her.

  “What’s all this?” She raised an eyebrow, taking in the papers and Nita’s rigid stance.

  Detective Levesque frowned. “We were discussing Nita’s involvement in certain events in Toronto.”

  Her mother’s fingers curled possessively on Nita’s shoulder. “Such as?”

  “The shooting that occurred yesterday. Nita was filmed fleeing the scene, chased by an armed woman.”

  “Yes. What about it?”

  “We were just establishing what kind of relationship Nita had with the murder victims.”

  Nita’s mother gave him a skeptical look, and her voice went flat. “So let me get this straight. Nita was running away from a woman wielding a gun. A woman who you know was at the crime scene. And we’re sitting here talking about if Nita was involved?”

  Detective Levesque straightened, heat coming into his face. “It’s not that simple.” He slid the printout of the darknet chat over to her mother. “Someone online is claiming responsibility.”

  Her mother picked up the paper and looked at it, then gave the detective a withering glare. “This seems to be an online site selling my niece’s phone GPS location.”

  Levesque looked uneasy. “Well, yes. But if you look at the top comment—”

  “The anonymous comment, that could have been posted by anyone. For example, another dealer on the black market trying to scare off the competition so he could catch Nita himself.”

  Levesque blinked. “That’s one possibility.”

  Her mother put the paper down slowly and slid it back to Levesque. “So you’re saying you saw that my niece was kidnapped, sold on the black market, and attacked when she got out, and you thought to yourself, I wonder if she’s been the villain this whole time?”

  Levesque scrambled and then repeated, “It’s not that simple. And she’s never given a satisfactory explanation why she’s the only survivor of Death Market’s destruction—”

  “Fire.” Nita interjected. “One of the generators blew, and it set off a chain reaction. If I couldn’t heal my burn wounds, I’d be as dead as everyone else.”

  His mouth opened and closed, but he remained silent.

  Her mother’s voice was icy. “Was there more?”

  Levesque turned to Quispe, who’d been silent for the duration of Nita’s mother’s visit, just watching and listening.

  “You were kidnapped with INHUP’s other charge at the airport,” Levesque said. “Only Nita and INHUP knew where you’d be and when.”

  “That’s correct,” Quispe agreed, but her voice wasn’t accusatory. Just a statement.

  “Oh?” Nita’s mother snorted. “I see. Were you trying to pin that on my niece too?” She leaned forward and glared at both of them. “Because you know what it looks like to me? It looks like INHUP isn’t a safe place to be. We get out of INHUP, and within hours, my niece’s cell phone GPS location is on sale. You try to transport another person, and you’re ambushed and kidnapped when you arrive. It sounds less like my niece is the problem and more like your organization is riddled with corruption.”

  Nita felt a surge of smugness. No one could argue with her mother. It was impossible. All the traits that scared Nita, the tangible threat of her presence, the way she could manipulate a conversation, everything that made Nita want to run, made her hate her life—seeing them used in her defense was incredibly satisfying.

  In any other circumstance, Nita would have laughed at her mother’s manipulation strategy. Using known corruption in INHUP to hide that it was Nita and Fabricio responsible for it all. There was a strange sort of irony in using INHUP against itself.

  Detective Levesque glared. “How dare you insinuate that INHUP is—”

  Quispe laid a gentle hand on his arm, and he stopped.

  Then she sighed softly. “I think that’s enough.”

  “But they—”

  “I said that’s enough.” Quispe’s voice was soft. But her face had gone a little gray, and her mouth was pressed into a tight line.

  Nita’s mother pounced. “You already suspected this was a possibility, didn’t you?”

  Quispe’s expression smoothed into a poker face. “I’m not at liberty to say.”

  “You just did.” Her mother leaned back and shrugged. “It would have been remiss of you not to consider the possibility, especially given how large the Toronto and Bogotá offices are. You can’t account for the quality of every person in both of them.” Her mother snorted. “Especially considering your other option is that a seventeen-year-old unnatural trafficking victim somehow sold herself on the black market, killed some dealers, and tried to kidnap someone she’d met days ago.”

  Levesque was beet red, and he looked to Quispe.

  Quispe’s eyes fell on Nita, and they seemed infinitely sad. Like she was taking everything that had happened as a per
sonal failure on her part.

  “I won’t say your theory lacks merit,” Quispe finally said. “And if someone in INHUP is responsible for this, I will find them, and I will make them face justice.”

  Quispe’s face was hard and determined. Nita believed that Quispe would find the corruption. Not that there was any this time, given it was actually Nita’s fault. But there was enough corruption in INHUP that Quispe would find some.

  Nita wondered how easy it would be to tear it all down.

  The way Quispe looked now, she’d either destroy it or die trying. Nita hoped it was the former and not the latter.

  “Thank you.” Nita’s mother said, her face solemn. “That means a lot to us.”

  Quispe nodded. “I apologize for all this hassle. I’m glad we clarified things.”

  Nita’s mother stroked Nita’s hair and shook her head in fake sadness. “I hope you find the people responsible.”

  Quispe turned to Nita. “I promise you, Nita. I won’t let this happen again.”

  You can’t promise that, Nita wanted to say. Quispe didn’t know about Fabricio or Gold or Henry or any of the other things that meant this could very well happen again. But Nita didn’t want to spurn the agent, the passion in her eyes. There were very few people in the world who genuinely wanted to help Nita, and she thought Quispe was one of them.

  So she whispered, “Thank you. I appreciate everything you’ve tried to do for me.”

  Quispe leaned forward and gently squeezed Nita’s hand. “Be safe until I find out what’s going on, okay?”

  Nita nodded, throat a little tight.

  Her mother put her hand on Nita’s shoulder, pressing just a little too hard. A warning. Her mother didn’t like how familiar Quispe was getting. “Come on, Nita. We’re done here.”

  Nita rose slowly, and nodded at Quispe and Levesque. “I hope that wanted picture of me on the news will come down?”

  “Of course.” Levesque frowned. “We wanted you for questioning. You’ve been questioned.”

  Nita nodded and didn’t respond, just followed as her mother directed her from the room.

  Nita’s mother gave them all a cheery wave. “Have a nice day.”

  She pulled Nita down the hall. No one followed.

  Forty-Two

  NITA TOOK A DEEP BREATH of fresh air when she exited the police station. It smelled a little muggy and full of grass and spring things. Also car exhaust. But mostly, freshness and freedom. Nita swallowed, her body shaking a little at the sheer relief at being out of that room. It reminded her too much of her cage in Death Market.

  Her mother took her wrist. “Come on, let’s get a little distance.”

  Nita nodded and followed.

  They wove down the street, between groups of pedestrians and up another road. A park loomed ahead, with large, budding trees sweeping over small benches with nameplates. Nita and her mother walked up the hill and into the park, weaving down densely covered paths and into a private glen. A bench dedicated to someone who died twenty years ago perched in one corner, and a picnic table in another.

  Nita collapsed onto the picnic table with a sigh. She let herself breathe. She was out. She was free. They couldn’t catch her, they had nothing on her.

  Her mother sat down across from her. “You okay?”

  Nita nodded. She didn’t think her mother had asked her that before. Ever. She wondered if it was a trap of some kind. “Yeah, I’m okay. It’s just been a long day.”

  “So I’ve heard. Kidnapping an INHUP agent this morning, were you?”

  Nita sighed and rubbed her temples. “Yeah.”

  Her mother laughed, full and free, and gave Nita an admiring smile. “I’d expect nothing less of my daughter.”

  A small flash of pride swelled in Nita before she pushed it down. It was a trick. A manipulation. Besides, she didn’t want to be the kind of person her mother admired. Did she?

  Her chest tightened. She kind of did. Even if that meant being the kind of person who kidnapped INHUP agents and murdered black market dealers in cold blood. That praise meant a lot.

  “Thanks,” Nita said, trying to change the subject, “for getting me out of there.”

  “I did nothing.” Her mother’s hair caught the light as she tilted her head toward Nita. “You could have walked out of there anytime. They had nothing on you. You just needed to get up and leave. They couldn’t have stopped you.”

  Nita looked away. “They got in my head.”

  “I do recall your father and I tried to warn you about that.”

  Nita’s throat tightened at the mention of her father. She missed him.

  “That’s what they do.” Her mother waved it away. “They almost never have evidence for something. They make an art of manipulating confessions out of people, whether the person did it or not.”

  Nita raised her eyebrows. “I did do it.”

  Her mother laughed. “Oh, I know.” Her smile fell slightly. “But the mental tricks work just as well on the innocent. You know how many people confess to crimes they didn’t commit?”

  Nita stared at her mother for a long moment, at the tightness of her mouth and the way her eyes stared into the distance. Nita had read the news as much as anyone else, and she knew there were lots of places with high populations of innocent people in prison. But there was something in the way her mother said it that made Nita think she wasn’t talking about statistics in the paper.

  “No.” Nita’s voice was soft.

  Her mother snorted, the sudden sadness gone as if it had never been. “Never trust that the police have your best interests in mind.”

  Nita nodded. She’d been raised to be afraid of the police, because her family were criminals. She’d always known her mother’s fear was more than just that, but she’d assumed her mother had been raised somewhere dangerous, where money talked louder than crimes, skin color made you guilty by default, or being an unnatural was a death sentence. Not that Nita had any idea where her mother came from—she had dozens of passports with different names from different countries. Nita didn’t even know her mother’s real name.

  But for the first time, Nita felt like she understood something else about her mother’s hatred. She could see that, buried somewhere in her life, her mother had a story, and the police were its villains.

  “Okay.” Nita met her mother’s eyes, wishing she could press for details, but knowing there was no point. She’d never answer. “I understand.”

  A brief smile crossed her mother’s face. “Good girl.”

  She reached over and ruffled the top of Nita’s head, like she was petting a dog. Nita wriggled away.

  Her mother leaned her chin on her hands. “Well, I’d say you’ve proven yourself the past few days. Murdering your enemies was a lovely touch, and that notice on the black market as Scalpel has certainly started some conversations.” Her mother grinned. “I also took the liberty of starting a discussion pointing out flaws in the video of you healing, so maybe in time we can get it discredited.”

  Nita blinked. “Thanks.”

  “Of course.”

  Nita swallowed, eyes searching her mother’s. “You’re not mad at me?”

  Her mother raised her eyebrows. “For what?”

  “For leaving, causing a mess, and needing you to rescue me from the police—”

  Her mother took Nita’s face in her hands. “Nita, I’ve never been prouder of you.”

  Nita’s throat choked up. Words wouldn’t come out.

  “You’ve done so well on your own. For years, I’ve been so scared something would happen. That a careless movement would expose you to the world and they’d descend on you.” Her mother sighed. “I might have been a bit overprotective, but I love you, and I was scared for you. You were always so squeamish, never wanting to see people die. And those dacts! You couldn’t even stand animals dying, I was sure the market would eat you alive.”

  Her hands fell from Nita’s face, and her eyes shone. “Now look at you. I never needed
to worry. When the going got tough, you got tougher!”

  Her mother slapped her on the shoulder, and Nita jerked forward from the force. “What?”

  “You’ve done amazing!” Her mother’s eyes were soft. “I see now that you never needed me to be that clingy and protective. It must have been stifling, I’m not surprised you were resentful.”

  “I wasn’t—”

  Her mother snorted. “You were. I didn’t realize how much until you left me the other day.”

  Nita swallowed. “I’m sorry about that.”

  “Nonsense. You needed to prove yourself. I get it.” Her mother looked up at the sky, at something far away. “I think all teenagers go through that phase.”

  Nita bowed her head. “I guess.”

  Suddenly Nita’s hand was warm, and she looked up to see her mother’s hand covering it. “Just remember home is waiting for you if you want to come back. Your dissection table is ready.”

  Nita opened her mouth, but no words came out. She’d been so wrong about her mother, always assuming the worst, always shying away from her controlling influence. Always doubting, looking for any excuse to vilify her.

  “Thanks.” Nita choked, the words barely coming from her tight throat.

  Her mother smiled. “Of course. I’m your mother. I love you. Anything you want, just ask.”

  Nita nearly asked her if she could come home now. She could have someone else deal with the market, someone else keep her safe. Nita could curl up in her bed and sleep, dissect to her heart’s content. It would be so easy. So simple.

  There wasn’t anything holding her back. She’d proven she could work on her own. She’d murdered her enemies. There was only Fabricio left, and he was probably long gone. Her mother could help her track him down.

  It wasn’t like anyone in the outside world was waiting. Kovit was gone.

  Nita’s eyes watered at that memory. She hadn’t even begun to examine the snarled, tangled mess of emotions around that.

  Nita let out a deep breath.

  “I have a question.” Nita’s voice shook a little.

  “What?”

  She raised her eyes and met her mother’s gaze. “What do you know about Dad’s murder and the vampire?”