by Louisa Lo
Now even more motivated to get the whole business over and done with, we cornered our three witnesses by the fruit punch fountain.
“Go away. We can’t talk to you right now.” Theodore’s jaw squared upon seeing us, he stood a little taller. “We’re up right after the intermission and you’re going to throw us off our game.”
“Tell it to someone who cares,” I muttered.
Gregory took out a USB drive and simply pressed it into Theodore’s palm. “No more games. Just do the right thing.”
The teens’ focus of tonight was winning the trophy. We couldn’t openly drag them out of the recital hall, kicking and screaming, and get them in front of Judge Tabella. We were not vengeance cops and we had to keep a low profile.
But we could get them to provide us with a copy of their memory of competing with Boyce at the time of the murder. Supernaturals had the ability to make a duplicate of their memory strand and, with a modern twist, place it on a regular USB drive. The combination of the memories from three individuals should make adequate statements to sway the judge. That was probably as much as we could get from these guys anyway.
Theodore pushed the USB drive back toward Gregory as if it burned him. “No. At least, not until after the final is over tonight.”
Amos coughed. “There’s the North Bay Music Festival next week.”
“Right,” Theodore corrected. “After North Bay next week. And the big one in Toronto the week after. Then the festival season will be over.”
Vera bared her teeth. “You selfish assholes. Every second we wait is another eternity of pain for my man. You guys want to win every trophy of the season in Boyce’s absence before saving him?”
Theodore nodded and his friends followed suit. “Take it or leave it, witch.”
Then suddenly Theodore, Amos, and Jackson’s eyes glossed over, and Theodore wordlessly took the USB drive from Gregory.
Theodore concentrated until the light on the drive flashed green, indicating the receipt of a new memory strand. Then he passed the drive to Amos. The latter took it, his eyebrows burrowed as he started the same process of memory duplication. Then it was Jackson’s turn, and he, too, did so with minimal fuss.
I could barely stop myself from doing a little happy dance. Judging from the boys’ wooden movement, it was obvious that they were enchanted by a trickster spell called Drink the Kool-Aid, a blind obedience spell that was responsible for cults and mass hysteria alike. I grinned at Fir and Clef, and they smiled back.
But when I looked back at Jackson, the USB was gone from his hand.
“Did you truly believe your little trickster spell is going to shield you from us?” said a voice to our right. It was Madeleine Abrianna Lex’s brother. He stared at me and his lips pulled back from his teeth, disapproval radiated from every pore of his body. I might not know him beyond his face, but he seemed to know my reputation well. A lot of vengeance demons did, and they had plenty of opinions about Megan-the-Hybrid-Turned-Mercenary.
Madeleine was standing behind her brother. She frowned as he pulled the USB out of his pocket with the showmanship of a magician and toyed around with it. She refused to meet my eyes. “I wonder what you have just stolen.”
“Excuse me”—Patricia had made her way to us—“is there a problem?”
I realized then the people around us had stopped talking amongst themselves and were staring at us. They must’ve sense the tension in the air, or maybe caught wind of the word “stolen.”
“These are mercenaries,” Madeleine’s brother told the organizer.
With that announcement, everyone in the lobby was pointing and staring at my group. Up until now, though dressed differently, we had managed to move through the festival rather inconspicuously. Not anymore.
Well, we didn’t want the attention, but that was exactly what we’d gotten.
A look of horror crossed Patricia’s face, and she gestured two burly security staff to come to her. Theodore and his friends, on the other hand, had managed to shake off my half-brothers’ enchantment, and were now looking at us gleefully from behind Patricia.
“I’m afraid you’re going to have to leave,” she told us. “Right now. Or I’ll call the authorities.”
I got a feeling the only reason she hadn’t done that yet was because she didn’t want to attract the attention of the media. Mercenaries seen at local festival wouldn’t exactly raise the event’s profile. Get us out fast enough, and they could get on with the second half of the evening without fuss.
With a signal from Patricia, her guards got into our faces, not so subtly started “guiding” us toward the entrance. Gregory, Fir, and Clef weren’t happy with the turn of events, but after everything we’d been through, we all knew it was time to retreat.
I glanced at Madeleine, who stared straight ahead with no hint of recognition. Truth be told, I was a little taken aback by her cold attitude. It wasn’t like we were friends or anything like that, but after what happened a few months back with the satyr and his adopted nymphs, and Madeleine’s role in rescuing the girls, I thought we’d come to some sort of an understanding. Though she hadn’t say a single word tonight, her silent backing of her brother spoke volumes.
I admit, it hurt a little.
Vera hissed out of pure rage. She was staring at the USB on Madeleine’s brother’s palm. With the means to save her man just a few feet away, she was too close to her goal to give up. She made the motion toward him.
No, I told her.
The USB—
Leave it. Look, these aren’t your run-of-the-mill rent-a-cops. I tilted my chin toward the silver armbands on the guards. These are Ares’s henchmen making a little money on the side between wars. You might be able to evade them in your non-corporeal form, but then you can’t take the USB with you. Either way, you’d lose. At least they aren’t servants of Hell, or word would really be getting around to exactly where we don’t want it to get around. Do you want to endanger Boyce further?
Vera gave me a murderous look, but made no further move toward Madeleine’s brother.
Listen, I told her. We’ll get the statement from those guys another time. We know where they’ll be next week, remember?
My Boyce can’t wait another week!
We can’t afford to make a scene. Well, a bigger scene than it already is. Believe me when I say it’s not going to help your cause.
Because of the Council? Her eyes glinted dangerously. Is that why you’re so damn careful?
I looked at her. I shouldn’t have been surprised. The shade could get into my head and access my memories, after all. She would know the reasoning behind my call for self-restraint.
Why, oh why, did I recruit help from people who had even more restrictions than me? she lamented.
Walking away from good, solid evidence when we were that close to obtaining it was hard. The humiliating tread to the door, being escorted out while everyone was staring openly, didn’t improve the experience.
And I feared what just might get back to the Council about tonight.
Forcing my spine to stay straight, I stalked out, trying not to let my worries and embarrassment get the better of me. The heat of a great many eyes burned holes into my back, and my cheeks flushed despite my effort to act cool.
Then I felt Gregory’s hand on my lower back, his warmth permeated the fabric. I relaxed into his strength, and felt just a bit taller and stronger.
Chapter Seventeen
The Book Club
“I’m sorry about the competition,” I told Fir and Clef as we headed toward the side street beside the recital hall, where we would teleport the hack out of this place.
Fir shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. The judges are old school geezers that have no appreciation for humor. They wouldn’t have given us the first place anyway.”
“For what it’s worth I thought it was really good,” I said.
“Thanks, sis.”
My half-brothers left, with the promise to update me once the ex
po came to a close. It might be a while before I could see them again, especially given the current situation with Vera. My heart ached as they teleported out of sight.
Then it was Gregory’s, Vera’s, and my turn.
“Wait!” The click, click sound of heels rapidly approaching came from behind us.
I recognized that voice. It belonged to Madeleine. I turned abruptly and snapped, “We’re going, okay? Leave us alone.”
“Look, I had to play along, alright?” she tried to explain. “Once my brother saw you, it was over already.”
“Whatever.” I tried to inject a sense of casualness in my voice, but there was a tremor there that I hated. I wished I had better luck finding allies. If that was the case, then I wouldn’t have deluded myself into thinking that Madeleine could be one of them. So on top of feeling hurt, I was also embarrassed by my own wishful thinking. “It didn’t change the result, did it?”
“Yes, it did. I got this back for you.” In Madeleine’s offered hand was the USB drive that we’d lost.
Gregory took the drive and closed his eyes briefly, concentrating. “This is the real thing.”
“Of course it is. I conjured a decoy for my brother to take home,” Madeleine replied.
A cry of joy tore from Vera. She grabbed the USB from Gregory and pressed it right next to her heart.
Okay, my night just got a little brighter.
“Now can we talk?” Madeleine asked. Her image blurred, and I blinked. While before her dress was tight and black, she now stood before me in a loose, white lace number with embroidery of bluebells all over that matched her eyes. She looked softer than I’d ever seen her. Sexier, in a sensual kind of way.
The standard black color of vengeance she had on inside the recital hall was just a glamor. She even let loose her blond hair, a riot of curls falling all over her face as she talked. She looked less like a vengeance demon and more like the part-nymph that she was.
Up to now, the privileged girl from one of the oldest vengeance families had always been careful to hide her nymph blood. I only found out about her secret accidentally. It was so out of character for her to be in anything but black, never mind the flying blond curls and vibrant bluebells embroidery.
She must’ve been skipping out on Monk Leeches, the black market self-meditation that kept her nympho energy in check and helped her stay cold and hard. Did that mean she was more embracing of her nymph nature, now that she’d allowed herself to care for her own kind?
“What’s going on?” I asked her. I had to say, the gifting of the USB drive had earned her considerable brownie points.
“I need your help. All of your help.” Madeleine turned to Vera. “I’ve seen you around the Book Club and you were there this afternoon. I heard you mentioning going after evidence, so I put two and two together when I saw you tonight.”
Vera’s eyes widened. “You were there at the Club, too? But that would mean—”
“Yes.”
“And yours is also—”
“Yes.”
Gregory shot me a look, his eyes reflecting the puzzlement that I was feeling.
“Will the both of you stop being so cryptic? What the hell is happening?” I asked impatiently.
“Hell is happening,” Madeleine replied. “To our loved ones.”
***
We made our way around the inside of the Robarts Library, the largest library of the University of Toronto on the human plane. The building was shaped like a concrete peacock on the outside and was a bit of a maze on the upper floors. There were student bulletin boards lining the hallway, advertising essay writing help and used textbooks sales.
“Let me get this straight. Your ‘Book Club,’” I put air quote around my last two words. “Is like Alcoholics Anonymous, except it’s a support group for women addicted to falling for men serving in Hell?”
So while Gregory and I were napping after lunch, Vera was at this support group we were making our way to right now.
“No,” Vera corrected, irritation apparent in her voice. “AA would imply this is some kind of habit I have to break out of. It’s not. I love Boyce, I’m proud of it, and I’m never going to stop.”
“And we didn’t all joined because of our lovers. I went because of Rhys, my cousin,” Madeleine added.
“Your cousin?” Gregory asked as we rounded yet another non-descriptive hallway.
“Younger cousin, twice removed. We shared the same great-grandparents. But on Rhys’s side they kept marrying full-blooded nymphs.”
“So there’s much more nymph in him than in you,” I concluded. “A conveniently forgotten part of the exalted Lex family tree, I assume?”
Madeleine gave me a glare and said nothing. That was as close to admitting I was right that she was going to get.
“I don’t understand.” Gregory frowned, his voice puzzled. “He’s your second cousin. It’s not like you guys are closely related. Why attend this group at all and risk exposure of what you are?”
He’d learned enough about Madeleine from me to follow the conversation, and he had a good point.
“Rhys is not the only one,” Madeleine explained. “He’s the second male in my extended nymph family who got wrongfully condemned to Hell in the last three months. There are rumors flying around that the same is happening to other nymphs all over. My grandmother wanted me to look into it. She’s very close to that side of the family. In secret, of course.”
Ahhh, so my former tormentor was playing nice because she was on a mission. A part of me, though, wondered if it went beyond that. Maybe responding to the pleas of her kidnapped brethren months ago had made her embrace her nymph heritage more.
Thinking about Madeleine taking orders from her grandmother was making me miss my own gran. I thought of her constantly, but most of the time I was able to compartmentalize it in a small corner of my mind. I had to, or else I’d go comatose with worry. But sometimes the barriers got knocked down when I least expected it and losing her felt like a fresh twist of a knife in my heart.
“So the matriarch of your family sent you,” Gregory said thoughtfully, “but what about the patriarch? He served on the Council before his son took over, didn’t he? How does he feel about all this?”
Madeleine swallowed. “He doesn’t know. None of the men did, including my own brother. Look, in diluted form, the effect of nymph blood is only felt by the female descendants. For the males, it’s just a recessive gene with some heightened supernatural sensitivities. My brother never even questioned why he was able to break free of your trickster spell and see you so easily. Since the men experience none of the discomfort that come with the nymph heritage, the women in my family had long decided that in all fairness they aren’t privileged to the very existence of that heritage, either.”
“Why are you telling us all this?” I asked.
“Because I need your help. We need your help,” Madeleine replied, gesturing to Vera.
I glanced at Vera’s closed face, noting she didn’t exactly jump in to lend support to Madeleine’s announcement. So while she had been leaning on the support group for strength, it looked like she wasn’t thrilled by the idea of sharing her resources with the class.
“Vera, when were you going to tell me you suspected that what happened to your boyfriend might not have been an isolated incident?" I demanded. One single case was a mix-up, multiple cases was a conspiracy. I was in a business where I couldn’t afford to get dragged into something like that blind. “You do realize that if you’d told Mel about this connection, he might’ve been able to get more information about Boyce’s case?”
“Yeah, and in doing so, compromised his safety,” Vera shot back, unrepentant. “I know how things would’ve gone if he’s just one of many. You lot would’ve planned, plotted, and moved so very carefully that he would have to suffer a lot longer before you’ll get to him.”
I hate to admit it, but that was exactly how we would’ve acted if we realized the scope of the issue. We would’ve r
esearched the hell out of the whole thing before making a single move.
“I always intended to tell you about the support group,” Vera’s voice gentled, “when my Boyce was free and clear. I don't want anything to jeopardize that.”
“Well, too bad," Madeleine said. “You have a responsibility to the Club to make these mercenaries aware of us right away. We supported you through the darkest time in your life, after all.”
Vera didn’t have a retort to that, so Madeleine turned to Gregory and me. “I don’t know what kind of deal you made with this shade, but you are morally obligated to see this through for all of us. I assume this is not the first guy you’ve returned to Hell for profit? And yes, I’m aware that you’re bound by your own codes.”
I gritted my teeth and exchanged a glance with Gregory. She was right. Since my start in the mercenary life we’d sent back plenty of people. They all protested their innocence, of course. How the heck would I know some of them might actually be telling the truth? As annoying as it was that Madeleine knew more about the mercenary codes that I did before I became a mercenary, she was right.
The part of me that wanted to do the right thing warred with the part of me that just wanted Vera to get her man back so she would take me to the Internet to find Grandma as promised. I understood Vera’s selfishness when it came to putting her needs over her fellow support group members, because I so wanted to be selfish, too.
And yet Grandma, while substance-less, wasn’t in pain as far as I could tell from Esme’s mom. But for the people I sent to Hell, who might or might not be guilty, every second of torture was an eternity. Damn Madeleine, but she was right. I needed to investigate the matter further. A glance at Gregory’s grim face suggested he was thinking along the same line.
Vera, however, didn’t think she owed the support group anything.
“Suppose I just take this and run?” Vera stopped walking and flashed Madeleine the drive. The rest of us halted in our steps as well. “Get the court to order my man’s release while you sort everything else out?”