by Kim Harrison
“For the moment,” she said cryptically, wincing as she stretched her leg. “Bill is offering a trade. Allen and a vial of Evocane for a chance to snag me.”
Trap, he thought, but she already knew that. “But you don’t need Evocane.”
Silent, she stared into the coffee he’d gotten for her.
“Peri?” he questioned, fear sliding cleanly through him when she wouldn’t look up. “I know the lure to take the accelerator and remember has got to be incredible, but it’s nasty stuff. You don’t want to get hooked on it. The more I dig, the worse it gets. Some of these compounds are fighting each other, and I don’t even know why they’re in there. A sodium uptake inhibitor? Immune depressors? I know how much you want this, but they aren’t balanced and there are going to be ugly side effects when the longer-lived compounds begin to build up.”
“Then it’s a good thing I don’t need it,” she said as she yanked the felt-tip pen from her pendant and scribbled on the napkin. He leaned forward, going cold when she wrote BILL DARTED ME WITH EVOCANE.
“How,” he whispered, eyes widening as she wadded the napkin up into a tight ball. But the answer was obvious. Oh God. He only had three days to give her. She was running without a net and was rightfully scared. At least she hadn’t been accelerated. The syringe holding the accelerator she’d taken from Bill was locked up in Steiner’s office. Had she?
His lips parted to ask her, but Peri shook her head to stop his next words, pointedly letting the balled napkin drop between them. She thought one of them might be bugged, and with the ease he’d slipped WEFT, it was probably him. Shit.
“I expect that whatever Michael brings, it won’t be Evocane. I’m just after Allen,” she said lightly, but he could see the lie in the way she kept looking over his shoulder to the skaters, as if expecting Navy SEALs to come lurching up between them.
“This is a trap,” he said, deathly worried as he handed the three Evocane pens to her under the table.
He watched, his heart breaking as she tucked them away. There was guilt in her eyes when they flicked up to find his—guilt and relief. “Of course it is,” she said. She took a slow breath, gaze distant, as if she was feeling the paths of her life shift ninety degrees to a direction she didn’t want. “That’s why Harmony is with me. Trap or not, this is likely to be the only shot she’ll get at Michael. I think he killed her entire team in front of her for an object lesson. I help her get Michael, she helps me get Allen. You know I’m no good on my own.”
She was, despite what she said, but the relief he’d seen when she took the injector pens made it clear that she was risking her life on chancy intel and limited resources for the hope that the Evocane Bill promised her would be real. What if it isn’t? Will she go back to Bill to stay sane? Would I tell her to go? Drive her there? Kiss her good-bye and walk away?
“I’ve got to go,” she said, rising as the crowd began singing along with the band. “I can’t tell you how much this means to me. Thank you.”
“Peri, about the Evocane,” he said as he stood as well. “I’m getting close to figuring this out. A week maybe,” he lied. But he’d given her only a few days’ worth, and she knew it.
“I’ll be fine,” she said as she scanned the square, the thump of the bass beating into them. “Keep doing what you’re doing. I’m seeing this through. I owe Harmony that much. Steiner was just getting in the way.”
But she was dancing to Bill’s tune, and they both knew it.
“Good,” he rushed, not wanting to see her leave. He wished he could go with her, but the cold truth was he’d slow her down. His muscles were good for breaking heads, not speed records. “Don’t let him accelerate you. Once you take it, there’s no going back.” At least now, all she has to do is beat the withdrawal.
From her distant bench, Harmony swore and stood. “They’re here!” she said loudly, and Peri’s focus blurred.
“They followed me,” Silas said, but Peri shook her head even as she took a last gulp of her coffee and stuffed her crumpled napkin with her note on it in her pocket.
“No. They’ve been on us since we hit I-70. I’m sorry, Silas. Will you be our rabbit? If they follow us to the drop site, we won’t have a chance. I’m sorry.”
He could tell she was, and he nodded, not caring whether it made him into a chump. “Go,” he said as he gave her a hug, eyes closing as her slight body relaxed against his. He could feel it even through his thick coat. She felt so small, he could hardly bear it. “Call me,” he finished, refusing to let his throat close as she pulled away.
Nodding, she drifted back, her fingers lingering on his until the last moment. She hadn’t pulled away first, and his heart ached.
Harmony had come forward and was tugging at Peri’s elbow. “Now,” she said tightly, and Peri looped her arm in hers, giving Silas a last look before turning and vanishing into the crowd.
Slowly Silas sat back down, calling himself a fool as he dropped his empty paper cup into hers. A couple pressed close, wanting his table, and he ignored them, jealous of their boring life, even if it came with cheap knockoff shoes and polyester suits. He’d lost her once. He’d do almost anything to keep her safe. Anything. And he’d just given her poison.
The couple inching closer protested as three men in identical suits pushed them back. Silas looked up, not surprised when three more flowed past him into Sim’s Mules. Steiner was right behind them, his pale face spotted red with cold as he halted before Silas.
“Where is she?” Steiner demanded, eyes on the two cups.
The couple fled. Silas put the flats of his arms on the cold cement table and leaned in, casually playing with the two nested cups. She had a thirty-second head start. He could buy her a few minutes more. “Who?”
Steiner gestured, and Silas jerked when one of the agents grabbed his shoulder and yanked him to his feet. People scattered, but the band was loud enough that they were hardly getting noticed. “Hey! Watch it!” Silas complained, shaking the cold coffee from his hand as Steiner’s face went red under his graying hair.
“I ask again, Denier,” Steiner intoned, standing too close with his agents hemming Silas in from behind. “You left Atlanta. Came here to meet her. Where is she?”
Silas tried not to smirk. He didn’t want to lose his lab access, after all. “Probably her old apartment two blocks over on Wright Avenue, seeing as I gave her the key,” he ad-libbed. “Harmony is with her of her free will. Neither one of them look fond of red tape. You might consider backing off and letting them do their job.”
Motion brusque, Steiner motioned for someone to frisk him. “What’s at her apartment?”
Arms out, Silas shook off the heavy hands, not liking the attention. “Besides memories?” he said as he fixed his coat. “Weapons, so be careful if you’re going to follow her there.”
“Then maybe we should put you at the front door.”
Shrugging, Silas started into motion, heading for the nearby street and the two black cars parked illegally at the curb. He could slow things down while still being cooperative. “Sure. I’ve done that before. I want a vest,” he said, knowing it would take some time to find one that fit him, and since he asked, they had to comply. Peri wouldn’t mind his showing them the apartment, seeing as she hadn’t lived in it for a year and it was likely occupied by someone else. Besides, the distraction of going through it might give her an entire day before they found her.
“Get him in the car,” Steiner demanded, and someone shoved him.
Silas caught his balance, careful to keep his eyes down and not looking for Peri. She might be gone, or she might be on a roof watching them. He didn’t want to give her away if it was the latter. He was confident the last place she’d be was her old apartment.
She’d left everything of her past behind, including him.
CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN
“Peri? We’re almost there.”
Harmony’s soft voice shocked through Peri. Her doze shredded with the jagge
d realization that she’d forgotten Harmony was driving the car—not Jack. That she’d nodded off at all was disturbing. But then again, she’d not had a chance to sleep for a while.
“Sorry,” Harmony said, and Peri took her hand off her coat’s pocket and the three pens of Evocane there. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”
“You didn’t,” Peri lied. “I forgot that it was you driving, not Jack.”
Harmony’s hands tightened on the wheel. The car still smelled like fast-food chicken, and with four empty coffee cups in the console, she wasn’t surprised at the faint need to use the bathroom. The bright center of Detroit was behind them, leaving only the grittier outskirts where old city sprawl met decayed suburbs. Having sacrificed the edges to save the center, Detroit had left thousands to fend for themselves or move inward. It always surprised Peri how many chose the former, fearing they’d be taken advantage of or believing if they stuck it out, their property values would again rise.
Not likely, she thought as she wiggled her feet back into her new boots before pulling her WEFT-supplied jacket tighter about her shoulders. Detroit was currently balanced with high profit. The few areas left to themselves due to politicking and corruption lingered, attracting gangs and low-end drugs.
Get in. Find Michael and Allen. Kill Michael—not Allen. Get out. Easy peasy. But a slight, unusual tremor shook her hands. With it was a rising need to do something, an itch very akin to the sensation of adrenaline crawling along her synapses. The feeling was familiar—she tasted it every time she went out on task. This time, though, it hurt, the ache reaching to the pit of her belly and cutting like a knife. Nausea oozed in behind it, and her legs hurt, as if she’d had a fever. It was a warning: withdrawal.
Her heart gave a pound, and her fingers stretched, touching her pocket again as she recalled Silas’s worry when he gave her the Evocane. His expression was nothing new. She’d seen it a hundred times before. But now, with the thoughts of their last year at Opti training ringing through her, that same look held new meaning. He’d loved her then. He loved her now. Seeing her younger self care for him, try to pull him from his depression and guilt . . . the lure to find some happiness with him was frighteningly strong.
A lump rose in her throat, and she fought it. He’d given her the Evocane knowing what it would do to her, he had let her walk away knowing her path would lead to more trouble, not less, and he stayed behind to muddle her trail, helping her the only way he could. And for what? So he would feel that ache and guilt again when her choice was utterly gone and she was dead or Bill’s tool once more? She couldn’t do this to him again. He felt too deeply, too long.
I never seem to have a choice, she thought as the pinch of need grew. She had two hours until she had to dose up, but unless she wanted to risk a full withdrawal while dealing with Michael, she’d have to shoot up now—in front of Harmony. It bothered her.
“You miss him,” Harmony said softly, misreading her grimace.
“Silas?” Peri fumbled in her pocket, the click of the injector pen sounding loud as she uncapped it. “I hardly remember him,” she said, trying to make light of it as she tugged her waistband down and jammed the tip into her thigh. The prick of the lance turned into a dull ache. “But he remembers me,” she said, voice strained. She was good for another twenty-four hours.
Harmony was still looking at her when she glanced up, the woman’s expression unreadable in the unlit, snow-caked streets of abandoned Detroit. “Not Silas. Jack,” Harmony finally said. “You know . . . you thought he was driving the car?” she prompted.
Peri’s lips parted, her first hot refusal dying. Apparently she did miss him—in a way. “You’ve never worked with anyone before, have you?” Peri said, feeling like a drug addict as she tossed the spent injector into the trash.
Harmony’s expression became closed. “All the time. I’ve never been afforded the chance to work alone.”
“I mean, worked so closely and for so long with someone that you know each other’s moods, methods. How fast he can hot-wire a car or that it takes him thirty seconds to subdue someone expecting it, five if they aren’t.” That he likes his coffee with four inches of ice when it’s hot and he curses in Spanish when his cell phone craps out. That he knows where your shoulder cramps after a morning at the range, and to turn up the TV when that commercial with the goat comes on.
“You still love him,” Harmony said, looking angry—misled, maybe.
Peri stared across the car at her, wondering whether Harmony was having second thoughts and that Peri might run to Opti as Steiner had predicted. “Enough to kill him, sure,” Peri said lightly. “And if I ever see him again, I’ll do just that.”
Harmony’s shoulders eased. Silent, she took a side street, cutting across the snow-covered parking lot of a sporadically lit Wally World. It was almost empty, not with the hour but from neglect. Glancing behind them, Peri settled into the cushions. “I’m still trying to figure out why you’re doing this.”
Harmony shrugged as she parked under a light that was in view of one of the security cams. “You know that glass ceiling that doesn’t exist anymore? I hit it two years ago.”
Peri took in her guilt, but not knowing what it was there for. “No,” she said. “I want to know why. Right now. You don’t throw your career away trying to save it.”
Harmony turned the engine off. Hands landing back on the wheel, she stared out the front window. “He butchered my team with less thought than he’d give slapping a mosquito. He did it because they didn’t have the information he wanted. That doesn’t deserve to walk around.”
Peri’s thoughts sifted through the cracks in her fragmented mind, catching on emotions without faces attached to them. This, she understood. “I figured it was something like that.”
“Those were good people,” Harmony said, her grip on the wheel white-knuckle tight. “He took everything from them, everything they had, everything they would have: days, years, births, promotions. I survived because I was a woman and that bastard saved me for last. Like dessert.”
“Fair enough,” Peri said, wishing she’d stop talking. Too many emotions were trying to surface, making her ill with fractured memories.
“Besides, with me losing my team, my glass ceiling just turned into cement. Steiner might forget about it if I come back with Michael.” Harmony reached for her purse, clearly not sure she believed it herself. “I don’t care if you forget. People forget battle trauma all the time.”
Peri didn’t know what to think about that, so she muttered a soft “Thanks. You need to run in for ammo?” Her gaze went to the big-box store, wondering whether that’s why they’d parked there, but Harmony chuckled and unlocked her door.
“I’m not taking my car into the arena. We walk from here.”
Walk? Through the arena? At night when there’s a perfectly good car? But then again, taking a car into what was supposed to be an abandoned area would get them noticed, too. Not liking either option, Peri looked out the front window across the weed-choked railroad tracks to the low cluster of boarded-up commercial buildings. Behind them was even more dilapidated, unlit, and condemned low-rent temporary housing originally built to get the homeless and displaced off Detroit’s streets before reconstruction had begun. None of it had been intended to last more than a decade, but not everyone had left when new housing had been built.
Calling it the arena had been the cops’ idea. The concept was good, but it hadn’t gone well, and the mostly deserted area had become a haven for drugs, prostitution, and gangs. Every electoral year there was a push to get it cleaned up, but the way the cops figured it, if all the bad apples were in one basket, it was easier to catch those trying to sample the fruit. Cops seldom came into the area, and never at night unless they were in well-armed packs with high-Q drones and riot gear.
“It’s bad enough leaving Steiner’s car here,” Harmony muttered, brow furrowed as she took her wallet and phone out of her purse before shoving it under the seat. Peri couldn’t
help but notice there were three missed calls, all of them from Steiner. “Hand me up the duffel, will you?”
“Sure,” Peri said, reaching into the back for it.
Harmony unzipped it, making a small sound of satisfaction as she took out her Glock and tucked it into her shoulder holster under her open coat. “What do you think?” she asked. “Big enough to be seen and envied, but not so much that it looks as if I’m looking for a fight?”
“I’ll stick with my knife if you don’t mind.” It was doubtful the car would be entirely intact when they returned, so Peri stuffed her pockets and belt pack with everything she wanted to keep. Her diary was going to be a problem, new pages leaking out every time she opened it.
“I do,” Harmony insisted. “Be a woman. Take the Glock. That’s why I brought it.”
Nodding, Peri took the semiautomatic pistol with a quick-change ammo clip. “Guns aren’t my go-to,” she said as she zipped it into her belt pack, snuggling it at the small of her back. “They have a tendency to kill me, and then I have to draft and fix it,” she added, smoothing her journal out before dropping it into her coat pocket. It was lumpy, but leaving it in the car wasn’t an option.
Harmony tucked a second ammo clip behind her shirt, shuddering when the cold hit her. “I’d do anything for a reset button. So I’d forget. Some things, I don’t want to remember.”
Mulling that over, Peri shifted her belt pack until the extra weight felt natural. “You sure you want to do this with me?”
“The arena?” Harmony opened her door, the cold night slipping in as she got out. “Two women? After dark?” Looking at the abandoned buildings, she adjusted her holster to make sure it was visible past her coat. “Bring it on.”
Peri’s faint smile grew as the unusual feeling of kinship drifted through her. Stretching the stiff hours from her, Peri got out as well, carefully shutting her door so the sound wouldn’t carry. The cold woke her up fast. Two inches of new snow crunched underfoot, but it would likely be gone by noon.