He stood up and began pacing, pain on his face. “How’d you know it was him?”
Quinn hesitated. “I… he looked like you.” She paused, realizing how dumb that sounded.
Noah dug out his phone and tapped a few times, then showed her an image.
She nodded. “That’s who I saw.”
“What else do you remember?” he said, sitting down again. “Think hard.”
She tried, but still recalled nothing. “I’m sorry. My memories from the jacking are spotty, especially that part.”
Noah muttered a curse and closed his eyes for a moment.
“I’m sorry, Noah.”
He shook his head. He sat there for some time, deep in thought. Finally, “We’ve got traction now. Thanks to you. And Jones.”
“We’re not the enemy, Noah. We never were.”
“I know that now.”
Quinn grabbed his hand, and it felt warm and strong in hers. “I’m sorry. That I hurt you.”
He smiled a little. “Which time?”
Quinn gave a rueful smile back. “And I’m sorry I didn’t trust you—”
He shook his head. “Don’t apologize. I acted like an asshole, leaning on you like that, trying to… to…”
“To win.”
He gave a bitter laugh. “We were doomed from the start, weren’t we?”
She squeezed his hand. “Maybe. Or maybe we’re perfect for each other.”
It was out of her mouth before she could stop it, before her mind could even consider what she’d said, and its ramifications. Noah’s eyes darted back to hers, surprise and a whole host of other emotions roiling in them. She suddenly felt exposed, and almost wished she could hide under her blanket. But she didn’t. She couldn’t hide from the truth anymore.
But when Noah looked down, another crease between his brows, she knew. He didn’t feel the same, and the realization made her gut clench.
“Look, Quinn…”
She gave his hand one last squeeze and let go. “It’s okay. You don’t owe me anything. What you did here is enough.”
Noah gave a faint nod, like he wanted to say more but didn’t have the words. He glanced at his watch. “I’m sorry, but I have to go. Okay if I send Jones back up?”
She nodded, suddenly feeling dead tired.
After Noah left, Quinn closed her eyes and fell right to sleep.
A couple days later, when she heard the knock at her door, Quinn smiled, taking a quick glance in the mirror. She looked even worse, her face bruised from her recent battles. But as grisly as she looked, she felt better. And at least her place was cleaned up.
When she opened the door, Daria stood there in a striped sundress, her smile growing as Quinn’s did too. Next to her stood Jones, his tats covered by a jacket and a hat on his head. Quinn let them inside and hugged them both. Daria then studied Quinn’s face, her happy smile giving way to anxious disapproval.
“Look at you,” she said. “Abrasions, second-degree contusions…”
“Look who’s a nurse now,” Quinn joked, glad she wore pants to cover her leg wound.
Daria shook her head. “I can’t believe I associate with you people and your illegal activities. Hammond wouldn’t tell me what happened.” She glanced at him, patting him on the chest. “It’s probably better that way.”
Quinn glanced at Jones, who only smiled, then back at Daria. And that’s when she noticed Daria’s necklace. It was obviously genuine gold, a chain with an elegant heart pendant hanging from it, a small topaz along one side. Daria’s birthstone.
“Where did you get this?” Quinn gushed, touching it with her finger. “It’s gorgeous.” But before Daria even answered, she knew.
“Hammond gave it to me.” She smiled up at him. “A little extravagant, I think, but he insisted on thanking me for helping him.”
Quinn nodded. She felt so happy for them, and glad that her advice to Jones had started to pay dividends. But she also felt a little sad, knowing that the only gift she would receive from Noah in the future was a stay-out-of-jail card.
Daria frowned again. “And don’t change the subject, Miss Thug Face.”
Quinn shrugged. “You know how it is with bruises. They always look worse than what caused them,” she said, continuing her and Jones’s unspoken agreement that they would spare Daria the details that would only scare her.
Quinn got them cold water and they sat down.
“Good news!” Daria said. “Guess who got admitted to the Solera Clinic?”
Quinn’s eyes widened. “Really?” She glanced at Jones. “They admitted Jeffrey? That’s fantastic!”
“I never thought it would happen,” Jones said. He glanced at Daria. “But this girl… she got a way with people.”
“That she does,” Quinn said. “But you know what this means, right, Mr. I Don’t Wanna Change? Time to pack up and move to Sunnyside.”
Jones heaved a sigh. “Don’t remind me.”
Daria patted him again. “The move will do you good. You can’t live in White Sands, not with all those shootings. And it’s Sunnyside, not Midtown.”
Before Quinn could reply, her burner phone rang. She froze for a moment, having learned to dread the phone. She grabbed it off her bed.
Yolanda.
Chapter 39
When Quinn arrived at headquarters, she hesitated, memories of the night she’d been locked out returning vividly. She pressed a button. Soon, she heard the latch release and the door opened for her. Relief washed over her like a cool shower on a hot day.
Yolanda waited in a gray printed dress, her dark hair blown out straight and shiny. Quinn took a seat.
“Well, if it isn’t my most rebellious agent,” Yolanda said coolly. “Former agent, that is.”
Quinn pressed her lips together but said nothing. She sensed that, for once, she should be cautious with her words.
“You have quite a bit of explaining to do,” Yolanda said.
Quinn nodded. She knew Yolanda would have questions, and she knew the answers to those questions would determine her fate.
“Why did you neglect to tell the Protectorate about this Black Jay who threatened you personally?” Yolanda began.
“At first, I thought it was Noah… I mean Sergeant Martinez.”
“You knew telling us would mean revealing not only that you’d had relations with an EDPD jacker unit officer but also that he’d identified you as a mindjacker.”
“Yes.”
“And you preferred to deceive us in order to protect yourself, rather than share crucial information that could have manifold impacts on this organization.”
Quinn cringed. This wasn’t going well. “I preferred to keep a job I loved and needed, knowing that I had as much dirt on Sergeant Martinez as he had on me, if not more.”
“Did you know Sergeant Martinez was jacker police when you were involved with him?”
Quinn shook her head. “No. I knew he was into something different, but so was I… and it seemed like… we were a good match.” She looked down for a moment. “You know how lonely life can be in our line of work. When I discovered the truth, I ended things. But then he showed up at the Lindens’ that night—”
“So he ID’d Jones too.”
“No. Jones was disguised, and Noah didn’t know him like he knew me. And he let us go.”
Yolanda sat back, crossing her legs and eyeing Quinn before she finally spoke again. “We gave you a place here. We trained you, promoted you, gave you the premium jobs. To say the least, being lied to felt like a betrayal of all we’ve done for you. Jones made a very strong case for my reinstating you, but I don’t know if I want to. I can’t trust you, because you don’t trust us.”
Quinn closed her eyes for a moment. “I know.”
“You know?”
“Yes. I don’t trust anyone. And it almost cost me my life.” Quinn sighed. “Look, Yolanda. I have no doubt I’m the most problematic of your agents. Or was. I know I’m a pain in the ass. I take risks, I do
questionable shit… but I do it because I believe in what we do and why we do it. And I’m willing to risk my ass—risk everything—to do it. I proved that at Linden’s place and I proved it again at Olmos’s. And both times something good came out of it.” Quinn took a deep breath. “And Noah… he could have arrested me, then and anytime after, but he didn’t. And he won’t. He won’t because I know him. His father was jacked once, his career damaged by mind thieves… by Devin himself. Noah cares about nailing bad guys more than anything, and now he’s found his enemy. It’s not us—”
“Not yet.”
Quinn shook her head. “I’m telling you, this guy cares about justice more than anyone I know. And he’s smart. If you guys want to win this war, find a way to work with him—”
Yolanda stared at her like she was nuts. “You want to work with the police.”
“Why not?” Quinn cried. “It’s not just us breaking the law to jack crooked people for cash and a side of do-gooding anymore. There’s a terrifying enemy out there and they’re in bed with the powers that run this city. They’ve killed one of ours and almost killed me, and God only knows what they have planned. And ‘we’ don’t have to work with the police. I,” she pointed at herself, “can work with Noah, if you’re willing to give me another chance. I know how to deal with him. And keeping it tied off and isolated like that… if it goes malignant, it’s easy to cut it out before it infects the system.”
Yolanda watched her, pondering. “You’ve broken rules. Ironclad rules. You’ve broken trust.”
“I know, but—”
“There is no but,” Yolanda said sharply. “Yes, your rule-bending paid off this time, but what about next time? We have rules for a reason, and they apply to all.”
Quinn wanted to say more, but decided to keep quiet.
Yolanda stood up, signaling the end of their meeting. “I will talk to the others, and we will consider what you’ve said.”
Quinn, surprised and relieved, stood up as well. “Thank you.” After an awkward pause, Quinn turned to leave.
“And Quinn?”
She turned back around.
“You’re correct. You were my most difficult agent, by a fair margin. But you were also my best.”
Quinn smiled, then left.
“Well, look who decided to pay her old man a visit.”
Joe Hartley gave Quinn a hard look before he opened a can of cheap soda and reclined his chair.
“Why the cheap soda?” she said, feeling indignant. “After I bought you the good stuff?”
“I ran out.” He took a big swig. “I’ve been worried as shit about you, after you comin’ here and givin’ me all your secrets and your money.”
“It was necessary.” She sat down on the couch, glaring at him. “And did I not tell you that if anyone came looking for you because of me, don’t tell them anything?”
He shrugged.
“Dad!” she cried. “Why would you give it up, and to the cops of all people? What happened to the Joe Hartley I know, who would never fold to police manipulation?”
“You’re alive, aren’t ya?”
“That’s not the point.”
“Then what is?” he griped. “The fucken guy said you were in danger—”
“Dad! You’re a Downtownie! Since when do you believe what people tell you? Since when do you trust cops? Yes, it worked out this time. But what if it wouldn’t have?”
He slammed his soda down and leaned toward her, finger pointed. “You listen to me, girl. Who do you think you’re talking to? You think I’m just some old Downtownie who deals sand and watches baseball? ‘Cause I learned a thing or two in my day. Yeah, he was a cop. He said so. He told me you were in danger and it didn’t take much convincin’, what with you over here in that ridiculous getup, givin’ me the ‘if something happens to me’ speech and handin’ me all your valuables. He told me what he wanted and why he wanted it… and I knew right away that boy woulda given up his badge if it meant savin’ you from whatever shit you got yourself into.”
Quinn went silent for a moment, her indignation fading away. “Loud and clear, Dad. Glad you’re still a Downtownie.”
“You’re the one who moved, not me.”
She grabbed a soda and opened it, the low-quality beverage bringing back pleasant memories. “Midtown sucks. And it’s not safer. Not for me, anyway.”
He nodded, looking slightly pleased, then sat back and put his feet up. “Looks like you picked a good one for a change.”
“What do you mean?”
“The cop.”
Quinn hesitated, fiddling with a stray fiber from the couch cushion. “Turns out I did pick a good one. He didn’t, though.”
Her dad scowled. “How do you figure?”
“He can do better.”
He looked back at the game, turning up the volume. “Doubt that.”
Quinn sat there for a moment, then went over and threw her arms around her dad. “I love you, Dad.”
He cleared his throat as he patted her on the back. “Love you too,” he said quietly.
Quinn sat back down and they watched the baseball game. It wasn’t the Demons—they were out of the playoffs. When it was time for commercials, there was an ad for beer that featured a talking iguana. He looked a lot like Lucifer.
Lucifer. Where was Lucifer?
She stood up. “Dad, I have to go. I just remembered something.”
Before he could even respond, she was gone.
When she arrived at Devin’s apartment, it took her a while to break in. The place was nearly empty, with only a foldable mattress, a few clothing items, and a lamp. The place stank like animal smells, and not in a good way. There were small dark lumps on the floor from Lucifer. She looked around frantically, spotting a terrarium in the corner and running over to it. It was empty.
“Lucifer?” she called out.
Nothing.
Fear descended upon her. At best, he was in the hands of another Jay. At worst, he was hidden in some corner, dead from neglect. And that thought made her want to cry.
But then she heard it. Swishing, then the sound of reptilian feet padding on the tile. A head appeared from the bathroom, and when Lucifer saw her he scurried over and climbed up her leg.
Quinn grabbed him and pulled him into her arms, tears coming to her eyes. “There you are! I’m so glad to see you!” Lucifer clung to her, his tail whipping a little but then calming down as she petted him and cooed reassuring things.
“What’s going on?” said a voice.
Quinn froze and turned around. Merritt stood there, her face in a frown as she looked around the bare apartment.
“Merritt. Hi,” Quinn said awkwardly. “Devin… hasn’t been around. I had a bad feeling, so I let myself in. And poor Lucifer was in here all alone.”
“How’d you get in?”
Shit.
“I… I tried the lazy person’s code and it worked,” she lied.
“You mean one-two-three-four-five-six?”
“That’s the one.” She paused, more memories returning. “Merritt, I’m so sorry I attacked you like that—”
Merritt shook her head. “You thought I was trying to break into your place. It must’ve looked suspicious.” She looked at the floor for a moment. “I was just there to say hello, to see if you wanted to get a drink… and I got curious about your fancy security system…” She smiled sheepishly. “You know me, always curious…”
Quinn smiled. Merritt was a little eccentric, but in the end she was nothing more than a lonely woman, a Downtownie lost in Midtown and looking for a friend. And a convenient tool for Devin to draw suspicion away from himself. “It’s okay. I overreacted. It’s my Downtown roots.”
Merritt looked around the room. “This makes sense. I always suspected Devin was into something illegal, and seeing his place only confirms it.” She paused. “Maybe he’s dead,” she added matter-of-factly.
“Huh. Maybe you’re right.”
Merritt approached her,
eyeing Quinn’s face for a moment, noticing her healing injuries before she focused on petting Lucifer. “It smells like he’s been here for days without any care. You poor guy, abandoned by that weirdo. But you’re a tough one, aren’t you? You’re made of tough desert stock, able to go without attention or water for a while, aren’t you?”
Quinn, seeing the look in Merritt’s eyes, handed Lucifer over so she could hold him. He took to her and nestled into her neck. She went over to his bowl, picked it up, and filled it with water, then brought it to his mouth so he could drink.
“I love animals,” Merritt said. “They’re nicer than people.”
“Agreed.”
“Especially in Midtown.”
“Also true.” She paused. “What do you say we go get that drink sometime? My treat. For the assault.” She smiled.
Merritt’s face lit up. “Tonight?”
“Tonight isn’t good, but I can go the day after tomorrow.” Then she had another idea. “Lucifer will need a new home. Can you afford to care for him?”
Merritt’s eyes grew wide. “Can we do that? Shouldn’t we ask someone?”
“Who?” When Merritt appeared to contemplate that, Quinn added, “I won’t tell if you don’t.”
Merritt grinned. “Deal.”
They left Devin’s apartment after clearing out Lucifer’s terrarium and supplies. Quinn returned to her place and took stock of her things. It was time to relocate, to somewhere safer. She laughed at the absurdity of that. How long had she dreamed of moving to Midtown, into this very building, hoping for a better, safer life? She’d gotten neither.
If she’d learned anything, it was that safety and happiness, at least the kind she sought, couldn’t be found in an apartment or a neighborhood.
And with that thought, she began to pack.
Hours later, everything ready to be transported to storage, Quinn picked up her phone to call a truck. She was stopped by a news alert.
“Man dead, identified as member of underground mindjacking organization known as the Black Jays.”
Quinn got on her computer to investigate. When she found the announcement, it had an image of Devin’s face along with another image featuring the tattoo, the blackbird with red eyes. So that’s what Noah did with the body. Turned it in, told his fellow cops what he knew. And the EDPD was showing its hand now, essentially waging war on the Jays.
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