“Not so much,” Alice took one step into the cramped room.
“Then why are you here?” I waited impatiently for her to step out of door’s way. Finally, I yanked her inside and then immediately locked up.
“Paranoid much?”
“You’re not paranoid when everyone’s actually trying to kill you.” I limped back to the red cushions and settled in with a sigh. Through half-closed eyes I watched Alice take in the place. This was her first visit. Getting past the Fallout Zone gate wasn’t exactly easy. “Not to your tastes?”
“You need to go outside or something, Ruby.” She sniffed the air and made a face.
“That’s funny, coming from a half-vampire.”
“I walked in the sun all the way here.” Her little stubby fangs clicked out. With some measure of embarrassment, she brushed her bangs away from her glasses and bit her lip. “Anyway, I’m just saying.”
“Yeah, we’ve all seen better days.” I gestured for her to sit down. She set her bag down on a nearby cushion, components rattling within the canvas. “Kendrick didn’t tell me you were coming.”
“I didn’t want to tell you over the phone,” Alice said.
“Now who’s paranoid?”
“Colton is alive.” She waited for that piece of information to sink in. When my expression didn’t change, she gave me a frown. “Aren’t you excited?”
“Hard to get excited about the guy who shot you.”
“He must’ve had a reason.”
“I think jumping from the ledge would’ve sufficed.”
“But it wouldn’t have been as cool of a story,” Alice said, then looked embarrassed.
“Who doesn’t get out enough now?” I sat up stiffly, trying to hide a wince. It was no use. Booster shots, adrenaline overdrive potions—they couldn’t help me now. Nothing but rest could save me from the abyss.
And that was brutal. Partially because, with each passing moment, MagiTekk grew stronger. Mostly because it wasn’t in my nature to sit still. A Realmfarer was nomadic, consumed by wanderlust.
That was the real reason I’d traveled from city to city, job to job for two hundred years. The call of the wild—the pull of the next town. It was like a whistle to a hunting dog: only I could hear its song, but I came running whenever it flitted through the air.
Sitting in a glorified closet, trying to piece together a way to meet Malcolm Roark, reminded me of my twenty years in the internment camp. The lust for revenge had distracted me then from the painful urge to roam. But now, without that vengeful haze clouding my vision, I couldn’t ignore it.
I sat still, clamping my seesawing knee down. “Please tell me you have something else.”
“Colton has his old job back?” Alice framed the statement like a question, hopeful that it qualified as big. “Like, he’s Supervisor of the Phoenix Field Office. That old job.”
“I know what job he had, Alice.”
“He just switched a couple times, so I figured—”
“I got it.” An awkward silence descended upon the tight space. “Sorry. I need to find out what to do about Malcolm before—well, you know.”
“MagiTekk spreads its slimy corporate tentacles throughout all the Realms, choking the life from them?” Alice gave me a shrug and pushed up her glasses. “It’d be overdramatic if it wasn’t true.”
“Not really helping.”
“Kind of like your fashion tips,” Alice said.
“My fashion is fine,” I said, blocking the thought of the little black dress out of my mind. It was funny how, out of all my grievances, that still reigned supreme. He’d promised to show up and he hadn’t. I hope he’d found the answers he wanted. Because I still wasn’t going to forgive him.
I brushed crumbs off my sweatpants and loose T-shirt. Despite the disheveled appearance, I’d been working hard over the past two weeks. But MagiTekk was like a hydra, constantly sprouting new heads. Pretty soon, the beast would be unstoppable.
Alice reached into her bag and pulled out a cube. “This was in Colton’s office.”
I narrowed my eyes in suspicion, recalling his phone call: two weeks. He’d hidden something in his office two weeks before, locking me out until then.
“Tell me you didn’t go to his office.”
“I didn’t go to his office,” Alice said, blinking like a dog caught in a rainstorm.
“You’re an awful liar.”
“I met Colton on the way here,” Alice said. “He used MagiTekk’s 512-bit magical-digital encryption to lock things up. So today was the first time he could actually get into his office.”
“So what does this little cube do?”
“It’s a backdoor into the FBI’s secure network. Everything. Way better than the cracked one I gave you before. And, I think it includes a little message from him. An explanation.”
“This ought to be good,” I said, snatching the cube from her outstretched hand.
“You want me to leave or something? Give you a minute?”
“What’s the worst he could say?”
Famous last words.
30
It’s more what went unsaid. Sorry for ditching you. Sorry for not calling you. Sorry for shooting you—even though the message was recorded over a half day before that happened.
Instead, it was a very basic, “I know you’re going to be pissed about me not showing up, Ruby. You have every right to be. I think my father brought Solomon Marshall back from the Underworld. Encouraged it to happen, at least. Wanted him to spread fear among the population. Guess what? Look around you.” The camera shifted outside, to the towering monoliths that we called a city. “It worked. He created the bogeyman. MagiTekk grew. But the bogeyman killed Sam. And I need proof. Need to know it down to my soul. Before I can…”
The video cut off before Roark could say the words. Yeah, putting a bullet in your father’s brain was a hard decision. It was the type of thing you had to be absolutely certain about. I got that. And maybe the type of decision you didn’t want to put off.
So, with a little coaxing from Harcourt Leblanc, off Roark went on his ill-fated solo adventure. I’m not sure what the fantasy had been: back before breakfast, with a handful of roses, an apology, and an almost decade-long weight off his shoulders.
Things always looked good on paper.
But the reality was, he’d burned our relationship and almost died before even reaching the Fae Plains.
I swatted the image out of the air. The table kicked back to the main menu.
“So you and Colton were gonna finally do the deed, huh?” Alice said, adjusting her tight, torn shirt. “I knew you were into him.”
“What tipped you off?” I replied glumly, slumping back into the red cushions. There was no extra message from Roark—explaining why, perhaps, he’d chosen to shoot me.
“One time, a guy invited me on a date, and I waited at the restaurant for two hours. And then I found him laughing outside with his four friends.”
“I would’ve burned their house down.”
“That’s why I like you,” Alice said, seriously. “You wouldn’t take that type of shit.”
“What’d you do?”
“I ran the other way and went home.” Alice rubbed her nose. “A few weeks later, I hacked into his email and sent out a mass message to every girl in his contact list. Told them all to get themselves tested for an incurable contagious disease that started as a rash down there.”
“Not bad.” I almost cracked a smile.
“Point is, Ruby, I think Colton had his reasons. You understand what he’s going through.”
“I’ve heard that before.”
“Hatred makes people do funny things. Make certain choices.”
“I’m not so sure.”
By way of response, Alice deftly sliced her hands through the air, bringing up a clip I thought had dissolved into the digital ether. But there I was, naked in Delores Dewitt’s bed, slitting her throat with a knife. Getting revenge for Pearl’s death.
“And what would the alternative have been?” I asked, not sure that qualified as a bad choice. “Let them get away with it?”
“You see Colton’s problem, then.” Alice nodded sagely, suddenly sounding wiser than her nineteen years. “If his father is responsible for Sam’s death, he can’t let Malcolm get away with it. But he can’t pull the trigger unless he’s sure. Because that’s a bell that can never be unrung.”
“He didn’t have a problem shooting me.”
“That is a mystery,” Alice said, pursing her lips in confusion. “Anyway, I thought of something.”
“Please let the armchair psychiatry be over.”
“It’s about meeting Malcolm Roark.”
Good. The counseling session was over. Even if it had made me feel better—and saner—regarding Roark, I wasn’t ready to untangle my weird bundle of feelings. Better to focus on things I was good at: like plotting how to kill bad people.
“I’m all ears,” I said.
“You know Eden Marshall, right?”
I gave her a funny look. “Why, do you want an autograph?”
“Not my style,” Alice said. “But I think Malcolm would definitely like an introduction.”
“Seduction?”
“You know, as a PR stunt.” Alice gave me a conspiratorial smile. “He couldn’t resist the branding opportunity. What better person to have in your corner than your former biggest competitor’s sibling? It’s a killer PR win.”
“I have been seeing her billboards all over the city.” She’d made quite the comeback in just over a month. The media loved her.
“Well, she’s a big deal. And she owes you for saving her.”
“Maybe,” I said. Solomon Marshall had trapped her in shifted coyote form for seven years in a weird, misguided attempt at keeping her safe from MagiTekk. “But Malcolm killed her brother. She’ll never work with him.”
“She won’t help you kill the man who ruined her life?” Alice gave me an incredulous look.
“What about Malcolm?”
“Malcolm doesn’t know that she knows he’s a murderer. He just thinks she’s some tabloid star who emerged after a seven year hiatus. Probably thinks she was a junkie. I mean, they found her naked in Old Phoenix, remember?”
“Yeah.” I analyzed the plan from different angles in my mind. “It could actually work.”
“You can’t buy that kind of friendship, Ruby. It’s the best chance we have.”
Maybe, just maybe, this could work after all.
But there was still one problem: me.
31
I was injured, limping, and had only one good arm. Useless in a fight. Which meant I needed a fix.
Or a friend.
Alice Conway’s extensive network of Fallout Zone contacts put me back in touch with Aiko the sorceress. At this point, I didn’t need someone who could mend my bruised bones, or coerce magical regenerative properties from my cells.
I needed a master of illusion. I wasn’t a fan of such tactics. But with push coming to shove, I had to take an unusual tact. One that my training might not have prepared me for, if the attempted infiltration of Jameson’s apartment was any indication.
Still, I needed to try.
I sat in the dusty basement of the Old Phoenix mansion, surrounded by moldy newspapers and sun-bleached boxes. The yellowed paper over the windows flapping slightly from the rickety fan.
Aiko emerged from behind the stacks. This was one of her many studios, as she referred to them. They were more hideouts, strategically placed far enough from MagiTekk’s beaten path to avoid detection.
My bare skin stuck to the vinyl chair, sweat slicking down my neck from the mid-afternoon heat. The calendar had ticked over to August as I’d plotted in Kendrick’s back room, and the weather had caught up accordingly.
I still hadn’t paid her for breaking the enchantment on Harcourt’s note, but she made no mention of it.
Staring at me from behind her gray-streaked black hair, Aiko said, “You are not used to deception like this, are you?”
“Stealth, yes,” I said. “Trickery, sure.”
“But not becoming someone other than what has been imprinted upon your bones.”
I pursed my lips together and didn’t answer, watching her head behind the boxes again. I hadn’t been someone other than myself for a long time. Not that this was unusual. Most people didn’t have a personality switch that they could flip at will. Unless they were sociopaths.
I listened to Aiko work, wondering if the strands of gray were a bit of natural deception: cause for people to underestimate her. That would be unwise. She had a powerful aura—far older and deadlier than she looked.
The slightly wizened appearance was likely cultivated to maximize her survival. A master of camouflage: a praying mantis hiding in the leaves, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Totally invisible until it was too late.
Aiko rubbed a scratchy lotion into my arms and stepped back. “You must commit to this person’s life.”
“I don’t follow.”
“Who this woman you are to become is not who you currently are. You must feel her life within your marrow.”
“Seems a little extreme,” I said, watching as the lotion formed ugly blotches on my arm.
This was the plan: accompany Eden Marshall to tomorrow’s meeting as her media assistant. Then stick a knife in Malcolm’s throat. Elegant in its simplicity, but not without drawbacks. The disguise had to be convincing enough to make Malcolm ignore me.
It had to cloak my aura.
And we needed credentials, in case I got identified.
Alice Conway was working on the latter. Aiko’s job would hopefully address the former issues.
“Here.” Aiko handed me an unlabeled bottle. “Cover your body.”
I rubbed the lotion on my legs. It turned the skin a sort of wrinkly gray. Aging me something a little bit more appropriate for my years, I suppose.
“Don’t massage it to deeply,” Aiko said from behind the stack of boxes, hard at work on some unseen project. “It can be made permanent.”
“Thanks for the heads up.”
I stopped rubbing and went on to another area. After radiation poisoning and surviving a fall from an ancient bridge, rubbing strange compounds into my skin seemed like the least of my worries.
“Tell me then,” I said, more to distract myself than anything, “what’s the true key to deception?”
Aiko popped up in the corner of the basement, carrying the project she’d been working on. The gray tresses flowed naturally through the wig. The long, unkempt mountain of hair looked every bit the part of a disheveled and overworked assistant.
With gentle, experienced fingers, she slipped my brown hair beneath it.
Taking a step back, placing her fingers along my temples to measure, she said, “It is the key to anything.”
“And that is?”
“Belief.” She plucked the wig off my head and made a couple mental notes. “Every great accomplishment or destruction starts with the same thing.”
“I don’t follow.”
“The smallest of viruses.” Aiko peered out from beyond the wig, her eyes shining through her own gray-streaked hair. “The belief that it can or cannot be done. It is up to the individual to choose whether that virus is a vaccine or a plague.”
She reached into the folds of her dress and flipped me a small vial of blue liquid.
“Take that tomorrow, right before you leave.”
“What’s it do?”
“It will suppress your strong aura,” Aiko said. “But it will also temporarily rob you of any abilities you might possess.”
The wisps flitted weakly around the vial in mild protest. They’d been fading in and out during my recovery. I wouldn’t really miss them tomorrow, but it felt like heading into battle without an old friend watching your back.
A friend who had watched your ass for o
ver two centuries.
“Can I have my clothes back, now?” I asked, looking at the blue vial. Completely naked, I had nowhere to put it.
“The aging poultices have not yet been absorbed.” Aiko disappeared behind the bleached boxes once more. “And so we will wait.”
“What about payment?” I asked, wondering why she hadn’t yet broached the subject.
“I am sure you will discover the proper compensation on your own.”
“Is this a test?”
“It is what you make of it,” Aiko answered.
I rolled the vial in my palm, watching the bubbles shift into slightly different shades of blue.
I wondered what I could make of this disguise.
I wondered if it would be enough to end things.
32
It was nightfall by the time I returned to Kendrick’s bar. After doublechecking to make sure I hadn’t been tailed, I ducked inside the heavy wooden door. The regulars greeted me with amused looks, taking a moment to recognize me.
“Damn,” Kendrick said, pouring a whiskey. “You look older than me, lass.”
“I feel older.” I grabbed the whiskey as I walked by, not stopping as I downed it. “I’m headed in for a rest. Big day tomorrow.”
“You have a visitor.”
“Alice?”
“Just hear the lad out, will you?” Kendrick went back to wash glasses, not wanting to see my reaction. Even with the layers of aging lotions and whatever minor cloaking wards Aiko had cast on me, my skin was no doubt flushed a hot red.
I could feel the heat practically streaming out of my ears as I walked into the kitchen and banged against the industrial fridge.
“Get the hell out of there,” I said. “Now.”
Something rattled and fell inside. A few moments later, the hidden door opened, Roark looking chagrined. His eyebrows raised slightly as he took in my appearance.
“Has it really been that long?” Roark asked as I barged past, joining him in the tight room.
Blood River (The Ruby Callaway Trilogy Book 3) Page 13