Chapter Thirty
Eleventh Ward, March 2014
Hello from the other side
There weren't a lot of things to do in a crappy hotel in the eleventh ward except kill the occasional cockroach that made tentative forays into the room, and read the pile of dog-eared romances someone had left in the waiting room downstairs.
Zayn wanted to call his family and hear their voices for comfort, but he was too embarrassed. Every time he worked up the nerve, he imagined their looks of disappointment.
It wasn't like he didn't have the money. The bills that Mrs. Kettle had loaned him were still in his wallet. He'd also considered leaving the city, but he hadn't had the Lady's substance in over a month, which meant he wouldn't get far before the effects would start to kick in.
After he'd read through the romance novels twice, gone to the deli about a hundred times just to get out of his room, and had a thousand conversations with himself about whether or not he should call his family, Zayn started wondering how his teammates were taking what had happened.
Did Instructor Allgood leave them as a team of three? Or did he give them someone from another team to even things out. He imagined that either way, they probably hated him. Assuming they even knew about what had happened.
Zayn dared the internet cafe next to the deli long enough to do a search on the D'Agastine Cosmetics building and if any break-ins had been reported. The whole time he was there he felt like he was being watched, but he chalked that up to anxiety, as he learned that his ill-fated attempt had been suppressed, probably by Celesse D'Agastine herself, who would have thought it bad publicity to acknowledge a lapse in security.
As spring arrived in the form of heavy winds and the occasional rain shower, Zayn began to worry that they'd forgotten him. It'd been two weeks since Instructor Allgood had dropped him off at the hotel.
Zayn spent a lot of time sitting outside the deli people watching. The feeling of being watched never really went away, but his anxiety had faded. He usually spent it in a daze, which was the safest way to pass the time, until the day he saw a girl with bright aqua hair.
Katie's name leapt to his lips, but then he realized it wasn't her. But it got him thinking about her, and how he'd disappeared without saying goodbye.
At first he tried to convince himself that she didn't care about him that much anyway, and was going on tour that summer with her band, but the more he thought about it, the more he convinced himself to call.
Finding her number wasn't too difficult at the internet cafe. He bought a burner phone and brought it back to his room.
It rang eight times. Just as Zayn hovered his thumb over the end call button, he heard Katie's voice.
"If this is a telemarketer, I'm going to report you—"
"Katie!"
Zayn yelled her name into the phone in his excitement.
"Zayn?"
"Yeah, it's me," he said.
"You sound different?" she asked, reminding him that he hadn't been using his Jamaican accent.
Not wanting to get into further trouble, Zayn let the accent flow back into his words. "Must be the connection."
There was a long pause of shared silence. He didn't know what to say without giving anything away, but the joy of hearing Katie brought him to say, "I missed you" at the same time she said, "What happened?"
"I got in trouble," said Zayn. "Bad trouble. I'm sorry, Katie."
"Are you still in the city?" she asked, and the hope in her question made his heart break. If there'd been any doubt that she liked him, it was washed away in that one question.
Suddenly his mind whirled with ideas. Maybe he could make a deal with the Goon when he returned to Varna. He knew the Goon had a ready supply of substance. That would allow him to go on tour with Katie and her band. He could be their stage show. He'd have to come clean about certain things, but he didn't think that would be a problem.
"Yeah, Katie," he said. "I am. I would love to see you."
"I would love to see you too," she said, but there was hesitation in her voice.
"But?" he countered.
"There are complications," she said.
Zayn realized there was real fear in her voice. He'd been so excited about talking to her, he hadn't been listening, but he was now.
"Are you okay?"
She hesitated. "Yes, sort of. We ran into trouble raising funds for the tour. Most places don't want to pay us until we've played. So we were caught in the middle. I didn't realize how expensive it was going to be, buying a van, bringing our own gear, getting the right stuff to keep up the stage show."
The last part, getting the right stuff to keep up the stage show, made him realize there was something he'd been missing during all their interactions.
"You can't do magic, can you?" he asked.
"No," she said, quiet and soft.
"You've been using Alpha, haven't you?"
After a long pause, she replied, "I have. How do you know about it?"
"I hear things at the bodega," he said. "You have to stop. It's dangerous. People die from it."
There were tears in her voice when she responded. "But we need it for the show. Only the damn stuff is ten times the price it was a few weeks ago. To have enough for the summer tour, it's impossible. We barely pay for our shitty flat on our salaries. We needed a way to keep going, keep the dream alive."
"Katie, what did you do?" he asked.
"I...I'm sorry," she said.
Then he heard a banging in the background like someone knocking on the door.
"Shit," she said softly.
"Don't answer it and don't use any more Alpha," he shouted into the phone, but it was dead. She'd hung up on him.
Zayn took a long look at the phone and then the hotel bed. He ran out the door at a full sprint.
Chapter Thirty-One
Varna, August 2013
Earlier on Ceremony night
Only the naive or desperate used magic they didn't understand, but living under the Lady's eye, people were sometimes both.
Zayn stood at the far end of the line of towering oak trees, watching the town of Varna assemble before the Lady's plantation, dressed in their Sunday best. He wiped his sweaty hands on his pants and took a steadying breath, catching the scent of flowering magnolias that had been coaxed to life with her sorcery. He moved around the wide trunk to get a better view, throwing himself behind it again when an old wood-paneled station wagon came rumbling onto the lawn.
It was a miracle Aunt Lydia's car still worked after all these years. Keelan got out first, marching up the lawn before she could even get out. She wasn't wearing her prosthetic, leaving the sleeve of her dress defiantly empty.
While it might have been her own personal thumb of the nose at the Lady, it was also a reminder to Zayn of the risks he was taking, both for himself and his family.
Once she was halfway up the lawn, Zayn moved to the station wagon and climbed into the passenger seat. He found the dog-eared spell book in the glove compartment. It was thin, filled with dodgy spells that were more likely to get you killed than to work, but Keelan had probably tested them out, to figure out which ones worked.
But that wasn't why he'd been lurking at the back of the lawn. He'd already suspected that Keelan was planning on stepping forward during the Ceremony.
Zayn hurried to his rendezvous location, finding three figures huddled behind the oak. He knew them at once by their voices.
"Hey, fellas," said Zayn, when they turned.
It was Wheezer, Rock, and Mean Clovis. They'd been huddled together whispering when he walked up.
"What a sweet Southern surprise," said Wheezer. "If it ain't Zayn Carter, who thinks he's too damn good for the rest of us."
"It's nice of you to notice, Wheezer. I've been working real hard on impressing you. But now that my work's done, I can go back to being a slacker," said Zayn.
Wheezer's mouth hung open for a good ten seconds. "See, that's what I'm talking about—you thinkin
g you're too good for us, making comments like that."
"He's a real shit, that one," said Rock, moving to cut him off.
Zayn held his hands up. "My apologies for disturbing you. I'll kindly move on."
Mean, who stood in back, had said nothing so far.
"You know," said Wheezer, "there's no one else out here to stop us if we decide to stomp you into the ground."
"The Lady will know," said Zayn.
"The Lady can kiss my ass," said Wheezer.
"Try saying that inside," said Zayn.
Before he could queue another quip, Wheezer struck him across the jaw. He didn't hit him cleanly, since the blow careened off his shoulder first, but it hurt.
"You're an asshole, you know that," said Wheezer, looking ready to throw a second punch.
Not wanting to get into a fight with three Clovis boys, especially on the night of the Ceremony, Zayn said, "You got me good, Wheezer."
"And I'm going to get you good again."
Before Wheezer could step forward, Mean grabbed his shoulder, and since he outweighed his younger brother two to one, he didn't go anywhere.
"Why don't you two go inside," said Mean. "I'll finish this off."
When his brothers lingered, Mean added, "Go now, or I'll whip you both later."
Shaking their heads, Rock and Wheezer disappeared into the darkness.
Mean stepped forward, fist resting in his other hand. He checked over his shoulder.
"Sorry about that," said Mean. "I couldn't get them to go inside."
Zayn rubbed his jaw. "It's okay. Didn't hurt too bad."
Mean's forehead was hunched with concern. "You sure you want to go through with this?"
"I am," said Zayn, handing over a small vial. "This will make it seem like you're sick. You good with the spell?"
"Been practicing with it for weeks. It's serious business," said Mean. "Kinda almost makes me want to go to the Halls."
"That can be arranged," said Zayn.
"Nah," said Mean. "I don't want what happens after. Which is why I don't understand why we have to go through all this trickery."
"I have my reasons," said Zayn.
"I think I know why, but I'll keep them to myself," said Mean.
"Thanks again for agreeing to this," said Zayn.
"I owe you for what you did back then," said Mean. "I owe you ten times over. Tricking them like this is worth it, even if I don't totally understand."
"You will someday, I hope," said Zayn. "We should get inside. You go first, and then I'll follow."
Without warning, Mean leaned forward, gave him a half-hug. "Thank you, Zayn."
"Thanks, Roy. You take care of yourself."
Zayn waited a full minute before he moved out of the shadows. His heart was jumping around in his chest the whole time. As he approached the white plantation steps, his cousin was sitting there, staring at the stars through the trees.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Ninth Ward, March 2014
Do not return to sender
Magic was important. It damn well made the world go round, but it wasn't as important as the people you cared about.
A vague remembrance that he wasn't supposed to be leaving the eleventh ward came back to him as he climbed onto the red line train. It was the evening rush hour, so he had to jam himself into the crowd near the door, receiving frowns and mumbled disagreements for his efforts.
It was entirely possible that Instructor Allgood had placed an enchantment on him that would notify him if he left the area, but Zayn didn't care. He could only think about Katie, the fear in her voice, and the insistent banging on the door.
The flat she lived in bordered on the poorer section of the ward. A couple of guys kicking a soccer ball around on the sidewalk barely looked at him as he dashed through the front entrance of the building. He bounded up the stairs to the fourth floor, where Katie and her flatmates lived.
The door was open. The lock had been broken. Zayn imagined a faez-amped kick could do the job.
Wary that whoever had done that might still be in the flat, he didn't just charge in. He stepped in quietly. The flat was an open plan in a big L-shape. A ceiling fan in the central part of the room rattled as its blades spun.
Thoughts of stealth fled his mind when he saw Katie's fallen form near the couches on the far side. He ran over and had just placed his hand against her bruised neck to check her pulse when a short dude with pale skin and a patchy beard came around the corner with a handful of Y-baggies and cash.
Zayn recognized him right away. It was the same guy who'd tried to rob him at the bodega and taken his money in the park. This was too much to be a coincidence.
Before Patchy could get any ideas, Zayn shot a force bolt at him. It narrowly missed him, shattering the framed poster of the Wiznards musical on the wall. The robber ran out the door, dropping baggies and cash along the way.
Zayn went after, chasing him up the stairs and onto the roof. There were at least forty feet between Katie's building and the next, so Zayn had the robber trapped.
"Why did you hurt her?"
In the dying light, the robber lifted his fist and extended a single middle finger before fleeing off the building. He leapt, plummeting out of sight.
Zayn made it to the edge in time to see the robber on a distant, but slightly lower rooftop, perfectly unharmed. The robber waved to him, before disappearing through an emergency exit.
Zayn ran back, to give himself room to jump. He tapped into his imbuement, picking up speed as he neared the edge. Then at the last second, he remembered his fall when training with Instructor Allgood, and pulled up short, cursing as Patchy reached the sidewalk and fled out of sight.
"Katie!"
He returned to her fallen body with hopes that she was merely unconscious. He placed his fingers against her neck, but he'd been running and it was hard to feel a pulse with his heart beating so hard.
Zayn leaned over her mouth, placed his cheek against it. He felt nothing. He shook her softly, as if he were trying to wake her.
"Katie, wake up," he said. "Please."
He sat with her long enough for his heart to calm enough that he could check her pulse. Nothing.
The words of the fortune-teller, Amber, came back to him. Any attempts at a relationship will only end in tragedy. He'd hoped her telling was a gimmick, but now he knew the truth.
His whole body was numb. He put his hand to his mouth, squeezing his hands into fists to keep himself from sobbing. Except for the bruises around her neck, she looked like she was sleeping. He brushed her aquamarine hair with his trembling fingers.
"I'm so sorry. I came as fast as I could," he said, feeling empty and cold.
As he knelt by her side, hands shaking, he realized that if her flatmates came home, it would look bad, criminally bad. But he also didn't want her killer to get away. He'd known that she had a cache of Alpha. Had she stolen it? Or used the magic that it provided to take it?
Zayn collected the fallen money and Alpha baggies, shoving them in his pockets. He checked the drawer where she'd kept them, but there was no clue as to where she'd gotten it.
When he was prepared to leave, he took one more look at her fallen form.
"I wish you could tell me what happened."
Then he remembered that she could, but it would require help, and that would complicate things further with her dead body involved.
He oscillated between leaving her, knowing that would mean her killer would likely get away with it, or taking her body, and putting himself deeper into trouble.
"Shit," he said, moving towards her bedroom. "I hope this is what you want."
He found an Army rucksack in one of her flatmates' closets, along with a gray hoodie he threw on. He neatly folded her knees to her chest and her arms around her knees, then gently placed her body into the rucksack, zipping it closed when he was finished.
"I'm so sorry," he said.
Before he lifted her, Zayn put a Look-Away enchantme
nt on himself. Despite the weeks in the hotel, he was still in peak shape, and carried the sack over his shoulder with ease.
Walking down the stairs, he saw familiar faces coming in through the front door. Her band was returning home. Zayn kept his head down and hoped the Look-Away enchantment would be enough to protect him.
They were busy talking about a new song when they went up the stairs past him. Zayn kept going, pausing long enough at the door to hear them exclaim when they noticed the break-in. He whispered another apology before he headed towards the nearest subway station.
Riding the crowded subway with his girlfriend's dead body in a duffle bag at his feet made Zayn feel like at any moment, someone was going to point at him and call him a murderer. He hadn't done the deed, but moving the body made him feel like he'd become an accomplice.
When he reached Madwoman Fortunes and Tomes, he took a deep breath before going in. It was more likely than not that this visit would result in him going to jail, but for Katie's sake, he had to try.
The little bell rang softly as it closed behind him. No one was behind the counter, and the store was empty. A prickly sense of danger settled into his shoulder blades. He had the urge to flee, as if a vast presence was looming over him, ready to strangle him where he stood. He knew it could be a big mistake to ask for her help again, but he had no other choice. Zayn took a deep breath, readying himself for whatever would happen.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Madwoman Fortunes and Spells, March 2014
Was definitely not invited back
Zayn gently set the rucksack on the floor and went in search of Amber DeCroix. He found her in the back, sitting at a table made of a carved tree trunk, drinking a cup of coffee and reading from paperback called The Lies of Locke Lamora.
"I thought I told you not to come back," she said, hard and serious. The sugar skull tattoo on her neck shifted.
The urge to flee hit him again in his gut. "I had to, it's important. You said you can talk to the dead?"
The Reluctant Assassin Boxset Page 18