“Stop!” he shouted. “Everyone stop!”
“What the—” Wyatt growled, mid rip through a limb.
“Not a good idea,” Griffin added, one hand out, directing a piece of metal from the hut’s skeleton frame to pin one of the plant’s limbs.
“Stop. Please. Trust me.” Then into his hood mic, “Sloth, get your ass up here.”
He didn’t have to wait long. Two more shadows came back through the door. Sloan with her bow knocked and sighted, and Evan with his twin katanas out and ready, lightning arcing up his arms. The small hut was crowded, full of hot air and discarded vines. Taking a risk, Tony yanked down his mask and exposed his face so the creature could see him.
“Please, stand down,” he said.
“Do as he says.” Parker joined them, limping.
Tony’s breath caught in his throat at Parker’s assent. They were all there. The team stopped fighting the monster. Tony met Bailey’s wide eyes, and he nodded. “It’s going to be okay, angel.”
Her lips flattened. Her jaw tensed, and she nodded back.
“Wayne Bosch,” Tony said to the creature’s deformed face. “Or whoever you are now, that’s not your wife. That’s not Gabrielle. That’s Bailey, my fiancée.”
The creature gnashed his thorny mouth.
“He’s sad,” Sloan hissed.
Daisy had said it was sad. It didn’t like being in the cage it was created. It had wanted freedom, that’s why she’d released it. Looking around, Tony saw the metal frame of the hut. He gestured. “Don’t keep her in a cage like you were.”
The creature paused. It stopped strangling Griffin. It looked around the inside of the hut with its dark eyes. And then it watched Tony.
“We know how you feel,” Tony tried again. “We were born in a cage too. We’re on the same side. Look—” he put his sword down. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not like the people that created you.”
His family looked at Tony like he was nuts. Probably because they actually started to believe him. They thought he wouldn’t hurt the creature. But he was a good actor.
“Let her go,” he said. “She’s not your wife.”
It swiveled its abnormally twined head, moved its slashes for eyes at Bailey and looked at her again.
“My name is Bailey,” she said. “I’m not Gabrielle.”
Tony glared at Sloan, and then at the monster, hoping she understood what was happening. She did. She focused on the creature, and soon, elation rippled through Tony as the vines around Bailey loosened. Sloan had the power to influence emotion, and she had cast doubt into the creature’s mind. It worked.
Tony swallowed the lump in his throat and gestured for Bailey to come to him. The second their hands touched, he yanked her into his arms, and hugged tight. Only for a second, then he pushed her into Parker’s arms and nodded.
Time for anyone who couldn’t stand the heat to get out. “Time to go nuclear,” he said, and then turned back to the creature. It looked at him. It cocked its head. It looked at Bailey climbing out of the hut with Parker, and it looked at the rest of them, all slowly picking up their weapons.
It knew he’d lied.
Sloan shook her head. “It’s not happy.”
“Die,” it hissed.
“This is what you want? You want me to die?” Tony asked, trying to buy time for Bailey to get out. He waved for Sloan, Evan and Griffin to leave too, but they wouldn’t. He couldn’t let his power out with them there. The suit would only protect so much.
“Die,” it hissed again, but no attack came. Instead it cowered a little and backed up into a corner.
Sloan released a sob, and her bow dropped. Her head hung low, and she took a deep breath. “It’s so sad. I don’t think it wants us to die. I think it wants to die.”
“Yesss. Die. Free.”
Jesus. An ache spread in Tony’s chest and he felt sorry for the thing. If Wayne Bosch somehow lived in there, or even if the creature was its own entity, it was different, unwanted. It didn’t know where it fit in this world, and to feed, it had to kill. Tony had never stopped to think if it had feelings. But Daisy had. From the start she had tried to help it.
Even now, when his sister had been trained to kill, a part of her goodness remained. That same part that had tried to sing away his pain when he was little. There was hope yet.
Tony put his sword away. He looked at his family. “You guys go. I got this.”
Sniffing, Sloan nodded. She went to leave, but took one last look over her shoulder to the creature. “I’ll help you feel better. I’ll make it good.”
Then she disappeared through the window. Evan hesitated, but left. So did Griffin. Wyatt came up to Tony and lifted his chin. “I’m staying.”
Tony gave a curt nod, then he stepped toward the creature. He let the power in his body build. Hot liquid fire burned in his veins. Blue light became white. It blinded them. So close to the being, he could see the eyes weren’t slits. They were just deep, deep holes, and within them, he saw the eyes glistening.
“Yes.” Viney, bony hands took hold of Tony’s wrists and moved his grip to its throat. “Free.”
“Yeah, buddy. Free.”
And then Tony let his ruin out. He accessed all those parts of himself he’d denied. He accepted everything, because like Bailey had said to him once, ruin could be good. It could be sweet. He freed the creature from the shackles of its life. Sloan must have kept her word because it never cried out in pain.
Smoldering ash burst into the air.
A pungent scent of burning wet things hit him, but he kept going until his fingers closed around nothing but disintegrated wood.
Thirty-Five
The night had taken a cold turn, and Liza’s flimsy and torn dress did little to protect her from the elements, but she was determined to stay at the orangutan enclosure until she knew everything there was to know. It had been a strange conclusion to an even weirder show. She had to be there to ensure no trace of her family involvement was found; it was the least she could do since she’d been unable to help in the big fight.
Assisted suicide. Whatever. It hurt her head to think about.
The forensics crew had already set up spotlights and cordoned off the area with tape. A few uniformed officers guarded the area and placed evidence markers down wherever they found plant matter or weird blobs of ash. The poor orangutans had to be moved to another containment area and tranquilized due to stress, but thanks to Sloan, she’d managed to get them out before Tony’s explosion.
Liza glanced up at the metal climbing frame where it had all gone down. It was once a hut, but now a charred skeleton. Scorch marks blended with the dented and warped metal sculpture. There was no way to explain it. She had to go with the cops and pretend she was as marveled as the rest of them. At least Bailey was safe. It could have gone the other way. She couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to lose someone you loved so close to finally connecting with them.
She couldn’t imagine it because it was never something she had to worry about. She felt sick every time she fucked, so it was not exactly high on her to do list, despite the lies she’d told her family. Shifting the dirt with her bare foot, she winced at the throb in her ankle. The damned venom still worked its way out of her system. She bent down low and rubbed the welt, trying to help the process along. She could be making it worse, but whatevs. It felt better when she rubbed.
A sensation uncurled in her stomach, blossoming like a sick flower. Without having to look, she knew the forensics officer behind her was staring, thinking lustful thoughts, probably ogling her ass as she’d bent down. Stupid dress. Sure enough, when she straightened and turned around, a man in a bio-hazard mask shifted his eyes from her rear up to her face. She scowled at him, and those eyes quickly skated away, suddenly becoming very interested in the bio-matter he’d discovered from the creature.
“Nice dress.” A deep male voice behind her had her twirling.
Someone she’d never expected to see in thi
s city again stood before her, dressed in FBI tactical attire. He’d left the state four years ago when he’d joined the feds. Joey Luciano was her closest, nay, only male friend since high school. She hadn’t seen him for the years she studied the Art of War, but they reconnected when she realized they were both in the Police Academy together.
The six-foot-three man had an amused look in his eyes and a slight curve to his lips as he took in her outfit.
Suddenly taken by surprise, her mind defaulted to her usual detective’s inquiry. She studied him back. The five o’clock shadow covering his steel cut jaw was thick and dark. The Joey Liza had known was meticulous about keeping himself trimmed. This man was behind. A little scruffy. His tactical attire also looked disheveled, and he wore an FBI baseball cap over his head, even though it was night. He only wore a cap when his thick unruly Italian hair needed a cut.
So he’d been busy.
His intense gaze didn’t let up.
“Yeah, I’d bet your boyfriend would love it,” she quipped.
Joey’s jaw flexed, and his eyes turned hard. “Why do you always joke about me having a boyfriend?”
“Because you’re gay.” She’d thought he’d have admitted it by now. “It’s okay.”
“No, I’m not. I have a girlfriend.”
“You do?”
“For two years.”
Oh. She always thought he was gay. Why else would he not feel lust around her? Unless he thought of her as a sister. Ew. Maybe that was it.
Except she’d never felt his lust, ever. Even as a teenager when boys were meant to have raging hormones. Even when they used to swim together, and she’d caught him ogling her tiny bikini. He certainly wasn’t her mate. They’d touched plenty of times during high school. Nothing. He’d never dated. Neither men nor women. Maybe he was asexual.
But she hadn’t seen him face to face for years. His job had taken him across the country. What did she know anymore?
His scowl drilled into her, and she squirmed. “Good to see you, Joey. What are the feds doing here?”
“Nobody calls me Joey anymore. It’s Joe.” He shifted his gaze to the mess. “We’ve been tracking this... thing across state lines for weeks.”
Shit. Fucking shit. She looked away to hide the alarm in her eyes. There went any chance she had of covering it up with some ridiculous story. How the hell was she going to explain her way out of this? She swallowed hard.
“And what exactly do you think this thing is?”
Those penetrating eyes landed on her again. “You tell me.”
This was not the Joey she knew. He never used to be so blunt with her. It threw her off.
“Aren’t you in the anti-terrorism unit, Agent Joe Luciano?”
“It’s Special Agent. And I’m in violent crimes now.”
“Violent crimes. That’s heavy.”
“No more than homicide.”
“Touché.” She’d recently moved from vice, where they’d worked together, to homicide. “So what’s it like?”
“Don’t change the subject,” he snapped.
A breezed wafted in, and she rubbed her arms briskly. The air wasn’t the only thing dropping the temperature. She shouldn’t have called him gay. Now he was pissed. God, she was always putting her foot in her mouth. She needed to learn to keep her nose in her own business. Friends were hard to come by for her, especially men, and she kinda missed the loser.
“Why would I know what it is?”
“You were here, weren’t you?”
Right. Yes, she was.
“I was at the film. Not exactly here, so I didn’t see much.”
He blinked. Stared hard at her face, then dropped his gaze to her ankles. “Oh really?”
Motherf—
“I know all your tells, Liza,” he warned. “I’ve known you for years. The first time I brought you a coffee order, you pretended to like it, but you stared at me, unblinking. I later saw you tipping it down the sink. And then there was the time you played poker with the boys. You did the stare thing when you had a good hand. You can’t lie to me.”
Oh how she wanted to laugh in his face because she’d been lying to him her entire life. But instead, she sighed and rubbed her eyes. “I’m tired and I’m cold. I want to go home. Can we do this tomorrow?”
He popped some gum into his mouth, scrutinizing her as he chewed.
“Fine,” he said. “But don’t think you can hide from this.”
“Wasn’t dreaming of it.”
“Good. I’m watching you.”
“Don’t stare too long, you’ll go blind.”
He snorted, and his lip twitched up. She smiled inwardly. It was good to see him crack a smile, even if it was small. Working violent crimes wasn’t an easy job. It took a toll.
“Hey,” she said softly. “Why don’t we grab a beer later this week and you can tell me all about the promotion.”
Joey stopped chewing. “You ignore my calls for months. Then when I do hear from you, you ask me for information. I ask you for a beer then, you shut me down, and now you just want to go and grab a drink like old times?”
She shrugged and smirked. “I know, right? Isn’t it good having a friend you can just catch up with like no time has passed? Plus, I said, maybe some other time. I didn’t shut you down.”
“Right. Yeah, of course. Except, friends don’t avoid friends,” he sighed. Someone shouted behind him, and he turned, momentarily distracted. He held up a hand to signal to whoever it was to wait and then came back to Liza. “We’ll talk later.”
When he walked away, Liza felt a cool sensation settle in her stomach. He was right. She’d avoided him. At the precinct, people had talked. They’d joked about how close the two had been.
When’s the wedding?
Taken her to bone-town yet, Joey?
He’d never discouraged them, but she knew he’d not liked her that way. Even if he somehow did, she couldn’t ever go there with him. Every relationship she’d had ended the moment she’d crossed the sexual line. She’d only ever come to anticipate that sick feeling when they got intimate and then she would end things. She thought things with Joey would be different because he didn’t like her that way, that she’d never have to worry about that potential scenario. But what if he changed his mind? What if she also caved and liked him back? It would all inevitably turn to shit. As it so happened, she didn’t need sex to ruin a good thing with him. She’d fucked things up well enough on her own.
Thirty-Six
On a Friday night, three weeks after Tony’s failed premiere, he sat with Bailey on a porch bench at the sobriety house. He wasn’t dark about the premiere, quite the opposite in fact. He thought it was funny. Just another sign that his decision to take a step back from the entertainment industry was a good one.
Down the steps, the streetlights turn on. Night had fallen earlier, and winter’s cool touch had landed on Cardinal City. The smell of Indian spices floated in the air.
With his hands entwined with Bailey’s, they snuggled into each other to keep the cold at bay and listened to the kids inside, playing music and testing out the new studio. It was good to hear them have fun, and even better to know they were thinking about things other than their problems.
This was the world Tony was fighting for. One where people could come back from their mistakes, instead of being persecuted for them. He’d get back to acting one day, but for now, this was perfect.
“Not to be rude, but how long do we have to wait for your surprise?” Bailey asked.
“You cold?” He inspected her outfit. Maybe her thin cardigan wasn’t warm enough. He probably should have told her to bring a coat when they’d left his place. “You want my jacket?”
He was about to shrug out of his, but she stopped him. “No. I’m okay. I just hate surprises.”
He lifted his brow. “But it’s okay for you to give them?”
She grinned, straightened and gestured excitedly with her hands. “You’re going to love it. But I ca
n’t show it to you until your surprise is done.”
“So, we are at an impasse.” He whistled a Wild West stand-off tune.
She rolled her eyes. “We are not. Obviously, you need to get your dramatic urges out more, because that was all wrong.”
“Objection.” He patted his chest. “I am not dramatic.”
“Good Lord, save me now. Right. Anyway, how long do we have to wait?” She squirmed and snuggled back into him.
“Just a few more minutes.” He checked his watch and then glanced at the darkening sky. “Almost time.”
A sound on the porch roof made Bailey jolt, but Tony put a steadying hand on her arm. “It’s okay. It’s the surprise.”
Two-seconds later, someone cursed above the roof. Something thudded. And then a shadow dropped from the porch roof to the steps below, landing quietly. Then a second shadow lowered, and a third. Three in Deadly Seven uniforms.
It was Evan, Griffin and Sloan, all with their hoods up, and scarfs over their faces.
Bailey jumped up. “I don’t understand. Is everything okay?”
A smile tickled Tony’s lips. “It’s fine. They’re here to give the kids a self-defense demo. As the Deadly Seven.”
Bailey’s eyes bugged out of her head. She darted a glance back to Tony. “Really?”
He nodded. “Every time I’ve been here, someone has mentioned them, so I thought why not have them come down. And after the attack, I’ve been thinking about keeping this place protected. Even if the demo fails, word will get around that we’re—ahem—they’re keeping a special eye on the place.”
“It’s a wonderful idea. I’ll go in and make sure they’re all ready.” She stopped just before she opened the door to the house. “Do you want to… you know, dress up too?”
“Dress up?” he quipped with a grin, standing up too.
“You know what I mean.” She waved at his family.
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