by Dana Cameron
I unslotted the chip and tossed it to Geoffrey.
“Nothing?” he asked.
“Not a lot. Maybe you can find something. I’ll catch you later.”
No further enlightened, I met up with Heck and Elizabeth Nichols, who said they wanted to record me giving a dry run of what was going on. Later, they’d review it and we’d add anything I’d left out for the official version.
I took a deep breath, tried not to squint too much, and looked into the camera, as silly and self-conscious as I felt doing it. I thought about how I was so very much the tail wagging the dog, all these important people acting on my say-so, and how I knew that I was responsible for so much happening right now. I tried not to sound too weary or uncertain as I started.
I took a deep breath. We were on the brink of I-Day. I was going to tell people in high places about the Fangborn, the Order, the Makers, the dragons, and just the thought of that was scary.
“Hi. I’m Zoe Miller and I’m a werewolf, one of the Fangborn. If you don’t know . . .”
Chapter Eleven
I didn’t get released from the taping until about ten that night. I ate ravenously, very glad the kitchens were used to Fangborn irregular hours and large servings. I heard a loud exclamation of “Oh, hey!” from the doorway and saw Danny and Vee, holding hands.
Danny, a Normal, was the one constant I’d had from childhood, and his friendship meant everything to me. When I’d last seen him at the Battle of Boston, he’d been badly injured, bleeding from a serious gut wound. I’d healed him remotely, hoping that it would work.
To see him now, you’d never know he’d ever had a scratch—even his glasses were intact. He was only a few inches taller than me, maybe five eight, and ten pounds lighter than me, too, and everything about his paleness and dark curling hair screamed “geek!” But in the past few months, Danny had come into himself even more than when he’d left school and found his niche in the tech world. Working with the Fangborn challenged his quick mind, and his talent with languages had proved invaluable with a global, polyglot Family.
They rushed over and Danny threw himself at me; Vee gave me a cautious hug.
“Sorry,” she said after a moment. “I’m just worried . . . Last time we met, you ended up in Japan by mistake.”
I nodded. “Not you. I mean, I think part of that was your extra energy, but mostly it was me just not knowing what I was doing. I’m going to proceed under the assumption that whatever happens, I’ll be able to find my way back again.” I held up my new backpack and my new resolution to have my stuff with me at all times.
She nodded. Danny grabbed my hand again.
“You . . . you . . . teleported! What did it feel like?” Danny could barely contain himself. “What did you see?”
“It hurt like I was in a full-body fryolator, and I didn’t see anything. If I can avoid doing it again, I most certainly will.”
Danny was crestfallen. “Well, that’s not very—”
“Dan, let’s get Zoe a drink,” Vee said impatiently, “and if she wants to talk, she can.”
“I love that idea so very hard right now,” I said, busing my tray. “Is there a place where a girl could get a very large vodka?”
There was a TV lounge nearby with no TV, and Vee hit someone up for a bottle. After my first large gulp, I stared with something like reverence at the tumbler I had. “Dear sweet baby Jesus, this is bliss. Hey, either of you run into Max yet? You know, the guy who looks like a Fellborn but is actually really decent?”
“Oh, yeah, I saw him when I was entering him into our system,” Danny said. “They’ve eased up on him. He’s wearing fatigues, cadging smokes, and I believe I saw him badgering Lisa Tarkka about maybe changing him back, if possible.”
“What’s your take on her?” I asked Vee.
“Enh. She seems competent. I can’t get a read on her, though. I was disappointed not to find you a Family member who could help. The ideal candidate would have been Geoffrey Osborne, who was totally brilliant and a bit crazy.”
When she said the name Geoffrey, I felt my heart stop.
Vee sipped her beer and continued. “But he died in an Order attack a few months ago. They raided his lab and took the materials he was working on, notes, everything.”
“Ah.” A thought struck me. “Aren’t there other physicists we could ask? In the Family, I mean?”
She snorted. “Oh, sure, teaching high school, working for the gas company, whatever. Do you know how rare it is to get a theoretical physicist doing advanced work in a Normal population?” Vee shook her head. “It’s pretty unusual to begin with. We were lucky he was an oracle, because he didn’t feel the Call and couldn’t Change. He could focus on work. The Order didn’t care that he wasn’t a fighter, only that he was Fangborn.”
I told them about his presence in my lab. Their faces grew increasingly worried. “Weird shit, huh?”
“Uh, yeah.” Danny said, “Zoe, do me a favor? Don’t trust him too much. He might be some kind of Order construct.”
“A little elaborate for them, isn’t it?” I asked. “I mean, I’ll be careful, sure. But they’re crude. They’re still getting the Fellborn . . . right.”
“Please . . . don’t trust him too much,” Danny insisted.
“Okay.” I changed the subject. “You guys, do we have any idea how we work? The Fangborn I mean, sorry Danny. It’s just that we look an awful lot like magic, but . . . there’s never been any proof of anything like that revealed by any other physics or math, right?”
“Sweetie, we’ve been so busy fighting evil and trying to live our cover lives and, frankly, dying, that we know very, very little about the Change, how we heal, how the shifters can take three vastly different shapes,” Vee said. “Not to mention anything at all of what the oracles are able to do, some of the time, at least. Physics . . . our physics, generously speaking, is still taking the first baby steps along the road to finding out. But no, there’s no magic that we know of.” She looked thoughtful.
I had brought them up to speed about my experiences with the Makers when I felt his presence before I heard the familiar cadence of footsteps. As I looked up, Will MacFarlane appeared in the doorway.
“Zoe!” Will ran in and grabbed me. “God, it’s good to see you.”
I gave him a hug and a kiss. He returned the kiss a little too vehemently. I felt a kind of proprietary quality in it that bothered me.
“Come, sit down. I’m beat. How are you?”
“I’m fine, I’m . . . You fixed me up good. See?” He pulled up his shirt so I could see his very well developed six-pack, a little blur of hair on his chest. He might have been showing off, just a little. I might have enjoyed the view another time but was aware that he was working too hard to seem like everything was okay.
“Dan,” Vee said, shaking my cousin’s knee, “we should—”
At the same time, he said, “Vee, it’s getting late—”
They laughed, awkwardly. I didn’t blame them, I thought. There had been too many strange and strained occurrences lately between us.
“We’ll catch you tomorrow, okay? After the demonstration,” Danny said.
“Okay.” I hugged him, gave Vee a little wave, and then sat down after they left.
I brought Will up to date on my adventures and asked him about his. He interrupted me when I told him about my meeting with Dr. Tarkka.
“Zoe, Zoe—this isn’t a mission debrief. Let’s talk about us?”
“Yeah, but. It’s just I have these really major priorities at the moment and I’m jet-lagged. I’ve been in meetings of the weirdest sorts today. I have to do a demonstration tomorrow and I don’t even know where to begin thinking about that.”
Will was not pleased, but he was trying hard to be patient. Or at least sound patient. “Look. If we are all going to be in . . . let’s euphemistically ca
ll it ‘in trouble,’ then you should be with the person you’re supposed to be with. I think that would be a nice thing, if—”
“If the world’s going to end?”
He nodded. “I’m just saying.”
“I get that, and all I can tell you right now is, I don’t know. Maybe we could discuss it later, next week?” I had no idea of what would be happening next week, but between Carolina’s hostages, the Makers, and I-Day, next week felt like next year at the moment.
“The last time you said that, you disappeared to Japan.”
“Yeah, but not because I planned to!”
“My point exactly!” Will said; he thought I was getting him. “It might be worth the six hours or six minutes it would take. It would be nice, for all of us involved, to know where we stand.” “All” was said with reluctance and distaste, and I knew he was thinking of Adam.
“Will, this is complicated and we don’t have time—”
“You don’t have time for me, you mean. But you have time to meet his mother?”
I was so taken aback by that it took a minute to realize what he meant. “I met Representative Nichols. It was a . . . a . . . rescue, followed by a war council. Not a trip home to meet prospective in-laws, I promise you. It was miles away from the sort of situation you’re suggesting.”
“Well, I’m sure she liked you.” Will was so seldom peevish that it looked doubly ridiculous on him. I almost laughed, but I was mad, too.
“Apparently, I scared the shit out of her. The feeling was mutual, I can assure you. Have you seen her?”
“Tallish, plumpish, blondish, motherish? Yeah, I’ve seen her. On the news.”
“Well, motherish as in mother wolverine, maybe. She sees everyone as her responsibility and she takes it seriously. She’s tough and smart and suffers no fools, takes no crap.” I didn’t quite shudder, but I was intimidated by Representative Nichols in a personal way that even the Makers couldn’t match. She stood up to Senator Knight like she didn’t even care, and she went to the worst-case scenarios without batting an eye. She had a scary handle on all the angles of the situations, the situations that I was responsible for putting in front of her.
“I hate that I make you feel like this,” I said. “I hate that I don’t have the bandwidth to fix this right now. We both need a lot of time, and now is not exactly ideal. Can you wait? Just a little?”
“Not really.”
I shook my head sadly. “Okay. Then we’re done.”
“Wait—what?” His face was the picture of distress. “That’s not what I wanted!”
“Right, it’s not the answer you wanted, but it gives you certainty. You can have that much; I can do that for you.”
“Why are you doing this, Zoe?” The pain on his face made my heart contract.
“Doing what?”
And then I realized what he meant.
I’d changed. I’d become a different person. Will thought I was being petulant, giving him an ultimatum or something, and I’d been decisive and sincere, making a mature offer that hurt me to even think about.
“I’m not doing what you think, Will—aaahhh!” A blast of chaos in my head, confusion that didn’t feel Fangborn, didn’t feel human . . .
“What? We’re doing this again?”
“No—ah, shit.” I clutched my head. “It’s the ravens. I’m seeing through their eyes. Jason . . . the oracle is in some kind of trouble.”
As I ran into the kitchen area, Jason doubled over so hard, so fast, I thought he was going to knock himself out on his own knee. A second later, he slammed backward with equal violence. Jack and Jill were shrieking and flapping around him, darting, talons out at anyone who got too close.
Another Cousin I didn’t know had tears streaming down her face. When she saw me, she screamed. “Get a lid on it, Zoe! If you can’t use your powers properly, don’t!” She ran from the room.
I stood shocked, and Jason finally staggered up, groaning. The birds however did not settle, hovering over him protectively and, if I didn’t know better, squawking with concern. When Jason leaned back against the wall, Jack and Jill hopped on the floor near him. Then when he spoke to them, they returned to their perches, shrugging and shaking out their feathers nervously.
“Goddamn, Zoe,” he said with a hoarse voice. “What the fuck are you up to?”
“Me? Nothing.” I got him a glass of water and would have given it to him, but Jack swooped at me, cawing a warning. “Okay, okay. I won’t get too close.”
I set the glass on the floor and then got down on my knees and shoved it carefully toward Jason. His fingers brushed against it, almost knocking the glass over, and I got an even better idea of just how freaked out he and the ravens were. They shuffled a bit but stayed quiet—my posture was too submissive to suggest I was going to be any threat—and Jason drank deeply, sighing. His head tilted back against the wall and his face relaxed. This was the first time I’d seen him without his sunglasses on and his coat buttoned up. His red hair hung lankly, heavy with sweat, and his face struck me as surprisingly young. I slowly sat back on my heels, intensely aware that the two giant birds were eying me suspiciously.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” I said. “Um, what happened?”
“I got this overwhelming urge to . . . do what you said.” He turned toward me. “And you said it wasn’t you?”
“No.” I had no idea what he was on about. “Even if I could do that, why would I want to?”
“Everyone knows about your crazy vampire powers and how they’re not quite normal. This was beyond a vampiric compulsion. It was . . . an order, something I felt from the depth of my being. It felt like . . . It felt the way that you fangs-and-fur folks describe the Call to Change. It felt like there was no way I’d want to ignore it, even if I could.”
“Whoa. Okay, well, I didn’t do it.” I thought a moment. “What did it say?”
“Say?”
“Was it a voice, my voice, commanding you?” I asked, desperate to know if I was somehow broadcasting unintentionally. “Was it a sudden urge to give me a pedicure? What form did this command take?”
Jason burst out laughing, which under the circumstances, was not as reassuring as it could have been. The ravens barked out harshly and flapped once or twice, and got more agitated as Jason worked to regain his composure.
“Knock it off, you guys,” he said at last.
That was better. He sounded more like himself. The birds settled, only partially reassured.
“So now what’s so funny?”
“You. I guess I don’t have to worry about you, despite what just happened,” he said. “If you were really interested in world domination, you wouldn’t have thought ‘obey me’ translated to ‘give me a pedicure.’ ”
I stood, getting pissed off. “You really, really need to tell me what’s going on, and how you got from ‘obey’ to ‘world domination,’ and why you’d think I’d want it.”
He opened his mouth to speak, and then a look of alarm spread across his face. “That’s gonna have to wait. We need to get you out of here.”
“What? Where? Why?”
“Up.” Jason snapped his fingers, and Jack and Jill flew to his shoulders settling in protectively. “Someone’s screaming pretty loud in a lot of heads—you saw, I wasn’t the only oracle to get the message.” He put the glasses back on and turned toward me. Both birds swiveled their heads along with him. It was eerie, being regarded times three.
“How many others?”
“Dunno yet, but from the shape of it, all of the oracles.”
I was about to protest when I heard shouts down the hall.
“What are you doing, bitch!”
“Oh my God, Frances drove off the road! I felt her die!”
There were more screams. Will grabbed me.
“C�
��mon, Zoe. We need to get you some place safe.”
A young boy, probably not even old enough to have finished Fangborn Academy, stopped in the hall when he saw me and went on one knee. “What do you require, Hellbender?”
I ran.
Claudia Steuben found us later; Jason, Will, and I had holed up in an empty conference room and I’d responded to her anxious text. She looked haggard, and I kept forgetting that just because I was having adventures didn’t mean my friends weren’t also overwhelmed with current events. We were only days out from the Boston battle, only days, maybe hours away from I-Day.
“How are you?” she asked.
“Confused.”
Claudia’s professional demeanor as a psychiatrist was still reassuring to me. “For good reason. It seems you’ve been reaching a wide audience, Zoe.”
“It’s not me. I swear.” I started pacing. “Did everyone hear the same thing?”
“Yes. Every oracle sensed or heard ‘Hellbender.’ Which was interesting, because while no one really knows you by that name, they all had an image of you in their heads.”
I swallowed. “Okay, I’m pretty sure it was the Makers.” I explained what I thought I knew about them. “The uh, head one? I don’t really know his name, but think of him as the Administrator. He said he’d give me some help, because he wants me to be their . . . uh, contact person, for . . . sorting everyone out.”
“Sorting?”
“Well, he thinks things are a little chaotic here and wants me to make it less so.” I told her about the meeting and how Fangborn were supposed to be the ones running the show. “It’s just that we didn’t turn out the way they usually expect, and the dragons are powerful but old and sleepy. And rather than us killing bad guys, we should be . . . ruling.”