“The world has lost its way,” the Jiangshi said quickly. “Corruption piles upon corruption without end, and we are all complicit. The world order must be melted down and reforged—and you and yours stand in the way.” I started his way again, and the vampire took another step back. “And tonight, they burn for it.”
I went still. “What do you mean?”
Lan shook his head. “You should take inventory of those you know,” he replied somberly. His one remaining eye darted to Jason, and he tilted his head, thoughtful. “And see that along this path, there is only suffering.”
“What have you done?” I roared, smashing my concrete mace through Lan’s form and shattering the stone head on the pavement. Too late; he was already nothing but dark mist with one dim red eye, drifting rapidly up and away from me on the night’s breeze.
I gazed after him, growling, my vision tinted red—until a small animal tugged at my pants leg as hard as it could.
“Ashley!” Jason caught my attention, his amber eyes big, bright, and worried from down near the ankles of my boots. “Tamara. Mama Flora. And Dezi.”
The cold chill of fear helped wash away the lingering rage. “The crown,” I replied finally. Jason nodded. “What if they went after it after all?” Worry persisting like a frozen stone in my gut, I fumbled out my shitty phone and waited impatiently in the middle of the road while it powered up. My first two frantic messages went out, one after the other.
No answer.
“Screw this,” I turned the phone off, dropped it into my hip pocket, and grabbed Jason before he could wiggle away. “Hold on guys, we’re coming.”
16
Not the only fire they started
We crash landed in the alley behind Mama Flora’s house, a three-story fall that ended abruptly against the asphalt with a dull, resounding thump. I tucked into a roll, shielding the dizzy coyote in my arms and absorbing the impact with my dead body. I looked up, worried—
But Flora’s little house was completely fine.
I thumped the front door open, trying not to break it in my haste, and almost ran into the three alarmed women just inside.
“Are you all okay?” I slid to a stop just in time to avoid bowling them all over, but bumped into one of Mama Flora’s stained wood tables instead. Lightning-quick, I managed to catch it before the impact sent it flying. In the chaos, Jason leapt from my arms and landed lightly on the floor, trying to muffle a retching sound with one paw. “I ran into Lan out there, and he said some menacing bullshit. Then when I tried to check on you, no one answered.”
“Because you gave me like ten seconds to answer before shutting off your phone,” Tamara replied, her brow furrowed with worry. “And I was already on the phone…with Rain.”
“Are he and Garibaldi okay?” Jason demanded. The air distorted and popped, and with a vague tingle of static, his human form replaced the diminutive coyote, clothes and all.
“Lan said someone would burn tonight,” I cut in before Tamara could respond, a sense of panic rising inside like a curl of smoke. “Is it—”
“Calm down.” Tamara’s eyes flickered, the sapphire light inside almost fading at the simple assertion. “It’s not Rain and Garibaldi, and it’s not us.” She exchanged a grim look with Mama Flora, then turned to Jason, concerned.
“It’s you,” she told him.
o o o
The flames towered toward the sky, grasping at the distant stars with hungry, incandescent fingers.
Even with the blaze already half-extinguished, the presence of the rolling, crackling flames made me uneasy, my body tensing every now and then at an errant wave of heat. I didn’t flinch though. I wanted to present a stable, supportive front; no matter how uncomfortable this was for me, it had to be tons worse for Jason.
It was his home after all.
I looked over; the young man’s face was still carved out of stone. A distressed Rain hovered at one of his elbows, with Garibaldi not far from the other, watching some of his men move to and fro, following orders and assisting the fire and rescue team in their duties. I recognized Jackie and Paulie, but I didn't see Muscles. Maybe the big guy was on Abyss duty tonight.
We watched in silence as water smothered flame, choking it out until only a pillar of caustic smoke remained. A few men and women, some in fitted suits, some in firefighter’s gear, tramped in and out of the breached, flame-gutted home, but no one else emerged.
Not that I’d expected them to, not with the boards that had been over the door when we’d arrived.
Paulie and Jackie split up, with the huskier of the two making his way over to his boss. The two spoke quietly, far too quietly for my half-dead ears to hear, before Garibaldi stepped away from everyone else and motioned for me to follow.
“There’s something I want you to see,” the former made man commented quietly as we walked. I glanced back over my shoulder to see Tamara following, but everyone else still clustered around a stoic, unresponsive Jason.
“Out of curiosity,” I commented as we rounded the corner, going into the alley to the side of the burnt former home, “aren’t those firefighters and stuff a bit weirded out by working alongside your guys?”
“They shouldn’t be.” Garibaldi shrugged a broad shoulder. “They work for me too.”
“Oh. Huh.”
“Take a look.” The older man gestured at the side of the house. “My men found something, and I want your opinion on what it means. Don't worry,” he added when I hesitated. “The fire’s completely out.”
I looked the side of the charred home over, initially unsure of what Garibaldi wanted me to see. Right in front of me was a shattered window; on the other side was the burnt-out husk of a small room, with one twin-size bed, the cracked shell of an older model TV, and nothing else recognizable inside. Was this the very room and window Jason had slipped out of earlier to join me on the hunt?
I frowned, taking a closer look at the window itself. Most of the hot glass had shattered, probably on contact with the firefighters’ cold water, but some of it had melted first. “This fire was too hot,” I commented, glancing over my shoulder at Garibaldi and at Tamara, who had joined us. “Usually home fires don’t burn hot enough or long enough to melt glass.” My father had come home with more than his share of stories as an EMT when I was little. “But we already knew this fire wasn’t on the up and up. Lan basically told me that right to my face…”
I trailed off, and after a moment’s further hesitation, ran my finger through the soot and debris on the window sill. My finger came away coated in bits of something metallic, most of them melted and re-formed.
Silver and iron.
“Shavings,” I announced, turning around and showing off my dirty finger. “Someone covered the thresholds with iron and silver from the outside.” I ground my teeth. “Someone didn’t want Jason to get out.”
Garibaldi nodded, his steely blue-gray eyes hard and almost unreadable. “Turns out his parents were just collateral damage.”
Tamara whistled, her eyes sad. “And if you hadn’t called him earlier…”
I shook my head. This wasn’t anything to take credit for.
“That same someone knew I was out with Rain tonight,” Garibaldi rumbled. “And knew Jason was home…at least, that he was home earlier.” The large Italian cracked his scarred, rough knuckles. “This wasn’t about Jason. This was a message. And I think I know who sent it, and why.” He looked at me as if he was going to continue, his hard eyes haunted, but simply turned away instead and returned to Jason.
Tamara and I followed, but gave them space. I watched as Garibaldi delivered the news; Jason’s face didn’t change, though his eyes were far less stoic. He already knew, I reasoned. Still not easy though. After a moment, the shifter let Garibaldi pull him into a tight hug, and Rain piled on behind them. Mama Flora patted him on the shoulder before giving them room. The consolations were short-lived, though, and Jason pulled away and walked past me into the very alley we’d just vacated,
his hands deep in the pockets of his jeans and his shoulders slumped.
Rain opened his mouth and moved to follow, but his adoptive father put a hand on his shoulder, holding him back, and shook his head.
He couldn’t stop me though.
I wandered down the alley in pursuit; I didn’t know why I thought it was a good idea, but I did it anyway. Though it probably was smart to at least not let him wander off completely; someone had already tried to murder the young changeling once tonight after all.
And I had a pretty good idea as to who and why, too.
Jason plopped down in the dirt of the narrow alley, put his back against the nearest wall, and lit up a cigarette. For once, I didn’t hassle him about it. Instead, I settled in as well, though at a safe and comfortable distance. I didn’t say anything though. I just sat in silence with him.
After a few minutes he broke the silence himself. “So. I was supposed to die here, huh?”
“Seems that way.” I grunted. “You heard us talking about it?”
The lanky young man shrugged. “Heard some. Smelt the rest.” He nodded toward his bedroom window, now a shattered, smoking hole in the wall. “Guess I’m just that lucky, then.”
I opened my mouth, but didn’t know what to say. Pretty much everyone else here was better at being comforting than I was; maybe it had been a mistake to follow him back here in the first place. I started to rise, only to realize my knee didn’t want any part of it at the moment.
“Damn, wish I had a drink right now.” Jason thumped the back of his head against the wall, harder than I liked. “Lotta good liquor burnt up in there, y’know?” He chuckled, staring up at the smoky, smoggy sky. “More fuel for the fire, I guess. Right, chica?”
I still didn’t know what to say. I tried anyway. “Do you want to—”
“Talk about it?” His laugh was hoarse, short lived, and phony. “What’s there to talk about? Mi padre era pinche pendejo. My father was a real jackass, chica. Hell, I'm not even half sure he was my real dad. Mi madre, she was so high or hung over most of the time, I doubt she knew either.” He laughed again, but it was still hollow. Then his eyes went hard. Well, harder. “But they were my family.” His voice shook a little as he said the last word; was it anger or grief? I couldn’t tell. Could he? “What did you do, mujer fuerte?”
“When my dad died, you mean?” Not the direction I’d thought this conversation would go. I swallowed my own emotions and thought about my answer. “Buried him,” I replied finally. “But not before I buried the asshat that did it.”
“Sounds about right. Still, your padre and mine might as well have been different species.” He fell quiet, looking expectantly toward the corner of the house. I tensed a little, but before I could ask or force my knee to respond, a familiar face joined us.
Dezi, now fully clad in a pair of Mama Flora’s colorful, alarmingly tight yoga pants under the long sleep tee, joined us without a word, taking a seat against the wall on Jason’s other side.
“How you holding up, muchacho?” She smiled, her gold-green eyes considerate and kind.
Jason opened his mouth for a retort, but ended up breathing out a long, heavy sigh instead. “I…just lost my parents, chava,” he replied honestly, simply. “And I’m not sure how I feel about it. Conflicted, I guess.” He snorted, the derision directed inward. “Pretty fucked up of me, huh?”
She tilted her head, a bit of the wolf apparent in her body language. “I…lost my parents a couple of months ago. Right before the pack took me in.” Jason looked over, but the werewolf looked at the ground. “So I can relate. Kind of.”
“Well,” Jason’s laugh was a little more honest this time. But bitterer, too. “At least yours were better than mine, chica lobo.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”
For the second time, I watched the girl render Jason speechless. Finally, he shook his head, seeming more subdued. “Sorry, chica. My condolences, y’know?”
She just smiled, though her big, bright eyes shimmered just a little. “It is what it is, right?” To my surprise, after a moment, she bumped his shoulder with her head, wolf-like, a gesture that conveyed more than human words could, language shared between two people that were both half-in, half-out of the human world, a note of heartfelt sympathy from one changeling to another.
The moment was splintered by the rumble of an engine and raised voices.
Worried, I used the wall to lever myself to my feet, fighting my stubborn, ravaged knee the whole way. Dezi hopped up and offered Jason a hand, helpfully pulling him to his feet.
Back on the street, an ominous black limo idled loudly in front of Garibaldi, Mama Flora, and Rain; as I watched, Paulie and a few other of Garibaldi’s men approached as well, some with paranoid hands already under their jackets. The three of us exchanged worried glances as we hurried to join the knot of people.
As we approached, Garibaldi waved his men away, though I could see the tension in his large frame. I, however, was trying to make a habit of not listening to him and pushed past Paulie and the others, making my way right up to the mystery vehicle itself.
To see a man I recognized smiling at me from the open window.
“Ah, there she is,” Juris remarked with a smile. “And here I thought you and I were going to have to have this little talk alone.” He nodded toward Garibaldi.
“And what talk would that be?” I rasped, giving the handsome, sharp-dressed Moroi a hard look.
“Oh, I was just telling Mr. Garibaldi here, as one businessman to another,” his icy hazel eyes, so reminiscent of his two half sisters’, went from swirling liquid to as hard as diamonds, “that he and his people need to back off.”
The Moroi’s command rolled over me and broke; it wasn’t directed at me anyway. To my surprise, Garibaldi held his ground as well, though his arm—specifically, his fist—shook, and he remained silent.
“Back off or what?” Jason, his eyes angry, popped up at my elbow before I could stop him.
“Or I’ll kill more of his men the way I killed your parents,” Juris replied coolly.
I barely caught Jason as he lunged at the open window, hauling the growling teenager away from the limo.
“Though you weren’t intended to suffer,” Juris commented from behind me. “You were supposed to burn right alongside them, after all. An accident I’ll take care not to repeat in the future.”
I had to shove Jason bodily back, using my superior strength to keep him from making a mistake we’d all regret. Juris’ visit was obviously a set up of some sort and assaulting a prominent Moroi with witnesses would be more trouble than anyone here could handle. “Jason!” I caught the changeling as he tried to roll past me and go after Juris again. I locked eyes with him, holding him in place long enough for Rain—and a moment later, Dezi—to grab his arms. “Bad coyote! Go and cool off.” I stared him down, letting him know I wasn’t going to yield, and was rewarded a moment later by him yanking his arms free of his friends and storming off, obviously pissed at me as well.
“Such a way with people, Strigoi,” Juris yawned from the limo, enjoying the show.
“Worked with your sisters,” I snapped, whirling back to face him.
The amusement vanished from his eyes in an instant. “You know,” Juris’ voice dropped low, frosty and dangerous. “I was going to tell you that, while Garibaldi can still spare his men by backing off, your death will make poor Jason’s parents look like a mercy killing.” In one smooth motion, he pulled a compact .45 magnum and leveled it at my forehead. I could feel the anointed lead stuffed into its magazine from here. “But why don’t I just put a bullet or two in your skull right now and call it a day?”
Behind me, I heard the leathery whisper of other handguns whipped from their holsters as Juris’ finger twitched toward the trigger.
I snapped my arm out, tore the gun from his grasp, and pointed the weapon at his skull instead.
“Likewise,” I retorted coldly.
“Ashes!” T
amara stepped in, saving me from myself just as I’d saved Jason a moment ago. “Don’t. You can’t.” Her eyes were dark, but her hand was cool and relaxing on my arm, even through the tattered cardigan.
I didn’t lower the gun.
“You know, I never wanted to kill your sisters,” I rasped at Juris…or was I talking to my own conscience? “If they hadn’t gotten mixed up in all of this—”
“Tell your excuses to someone who gives a shit, Strigoi,” Juris’ hard hazel eyes boiled with animosity.
“Ashes.” Tamara tugged futilely at my arm. “Not here,” she lowered her voice, catching my eyes with hers. “And not now.”
“Oh, is that who I think it is?” A woman’s voice echoed excitedly from the car, from the shadows of the seat beside Juris. “Why, it’s Tamara!” Davora Alilovic leaned into the light past her cousin, peering up at Tamara, just as petite, pretty, and nasty as ever. “Oh, hello, Tam-Tam! Does Liandra know you’re here?” Tamara’s hand trembled a little on my arm. “I think—”
“Davora.” Juris’ icy voice cut across her. “Shut up.”
To my surprise, the rage-inducing Moroi cut off her next words. Part of my mind wondered how that worked; I hadn’t been able to shut her up by severing the artery in her leg.
“Sorry, Tam.” Davora winked, retreating back into the limo. “Gotta go.” She held up her phone, wiggling it, clearly showing us Liandra’s name and number on the blue glowing screen. “Need to make a call.”
“Don’t worry,” Juris adjusted his torn leather glove as he spoke; I could smell the hint of Moroi blood from where I’d ripped the gun brutally from his grasp, though the wound itself was long healed. “You and I,” he met my eyes with a grim smile, “will settle this soon. And you won’t have anything, or anyone, to worry about any more.”
My fist trembled; a whisper of smoke rose from where the blessed ammunition inside had been too close to my undead flesh for too long. “Then I guess it’s a date, handsome,” I rasped. The pain in my palm spiked exponentially, and I let finally Tamara take the gun from me.
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