by Sarah Fine
“You love him.”
“No.”
My fingers balled in my shirt. “I don’t believe that.”
“Then you’re an idiot.”
“You can’t just stop loving someone like that, Asa.”
“It’s easier than you think.” Something sharp flared in his eyes as he turned back to me. “What else did he tell you? Don’t hold back on my account.”
There was something about the way he was looking at me that made my stomach go tight. “He said that the last time you were together, you threatened to kill him.”
A smile spread across Asa’s face. “That’s what he said?”
“Are you going to tell me he lied?”
“No.” He sank into his seat, looking more relaxed than he had all day. “For once, my brother was telling the absolute truth.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
We holed up in a cheap motel just outside of Kansas City after a twelve-hour day spent mostly in heavy silence. By the time we arrived, I was so desperate for fresh air that I went for a long walk and helped myself to a giant plate of pancakes at the nearby IHOP, not even caring that I was completely alone at the table. It was a relief. Riding in that van with Asa had started to feel like being trapped in a crate with a rabid wolverine.
We got separate rooms. It would have saved me a little money to share with him, but he didn’t suggest it and I didn’t ask. It wasn’t because I felt that he would have tried something, though. We’d been together nearly constantly for the last few days, and I just wasn’t getting that kind of creep vibe from him. In fact, half the time it seemed like he could barely stand me, and the other half of the time, he was laughing at me the same way I laughed at screaming goat videos on YouTube.
And I’d heard it straight from him—he’d threatened to kill Ben.
I called my mom and told her how relaxing the spa had been so far. I’d looked up the resort on my phone, so I’d already made up a schedule of massages and facials and steam room sessions for myself. I told her I’d had my chakras balanced and my lymphatic system stimulated. I crowed about how I was going to be toxin-free by the time I came home.
I held back the tears as I asked about the investigation. Mom tried to sound optimistic, but it was obvious they still had no leads. I didn’t ask many questions, especially when Mom hinted that I needed to focus on my health. And when I asked if I could talk to Grandpa, just needing someone on the outside to confirm that I wasn’t insane, she told me he was sleeping, but that he’d been very alert and sharp the last few days. I was willing to bet he was worrying about me.
I didn’t sleep very well. I dreamed of chasing Ben down the streets of Chicago, always a few steps behind. Then I turned a corner and there was Tao, his eyes deep black pits. It’s there, he said in a dead voice, pointing at my chest. The men on either side of him drew their switchblades. Cut it out of her.
I woke up in a sweat to see light filtering through my curtains. It was after seven, and Asa had said he wanted to leave early, so I rushed into the shower, packed my bags, and was knocking on his door half an hour later.
There was no answer. I lugged my suitcase down to the van, expecting him to be there, ready with a sarcastic remark, but no dice. “Where did you go?” I whispered, hating the coil of anxiety twisting tighter inside me. What if his enemies had caught up with him? No, Asa was wily and strong. He could feel people coming. He knew what he was doing. He was too wary and on guard to be caught.
He wasn’t like Ben.
In the distance, I heard a familiar bark, and I walked quickly to the far side of the parking lot, where the hotel backed up to a densely wooded area.
Asa was beneath one of the trees. And he was . . . dancing?
His back was to me. Track pants hung from his lean hips. His shirt was lying on the grass next to a pair of flip-flops. They were guarded by Gracie, who was wagging her tail as she watched me come near. But she didn’t bark, and Asa didn’t turn around.
The early morning sun glinted off little beads of sweat across Asa’s shoulder blades. His skin was tanned but smooth, no tattoos, no obvious scars. His arms rose from his sides, and his wrists flexed as he reached through the air and brought his hands back, as if he were cradling an invisible beach ball he had conjured from thin air. He took a step to the side, and his entire body leaned into the movement as he pushed the invisible ball away, then pulled it back. He looked simultaneously relaxed and entirely aware, controlled but fluid. Every little part of him, from his fingers to his feet, moved in harmony.
I stood at the edge of the lot, just watching. It took me a few minutes, but I recognized what he was doing—tai chi. I’d always associated that with old people in public parks. But Asa made it look . . . beautiful. He looked like a wave on the ocean. Like a ribbon caught in the wind. Like an arrow flying straight to the heart of its target.
“I’d never have pegged you as a voyeur,” he said, snapping me out of my trance. His head was bowed, and his back was still to me. But then he looked over his shoulder. “Enjoying the view?”
My face flushed with heat. “You said you wanted to leave early. I’m ready to go.”
He turned around and scooped his shirt from the grass. I looked away from his bare chest. “We heard you coming a mile away,” he said. “Your suitcase wheels need some lube.”
“Sorry.” I glanced up to find him standing next to Gracie, his shirt where it belonged.
“I know you’ve been waiting,” he said to the dog. “Go ahead.”
Like her leash had been cut, Gracie came bounding toward me, tongue lolling, her face so joyful I had to smile. “Thank you,” I whispered to her, bending down to fondle her ears and nuzzle her neck.
“You all right?” he asked as he slid the flip-flops onto his feet and walked over to us.
“I could do with a little inner peace, I guess. Does the tai chi help?”
“If you know what you’re doing.”
I gave him a wry smile. “No hope for me, then.”
His eyes met mine. “I wouldn’t say that.”
“Does it help you?”
He ran a hand through his dark hair. “It’s one variable in the equation, yeah.”
“Variable in the equation?”
“My body is one of the tools of my trade. The most important one, in fact. I have to keep it in good shape. That makes sense, right?”
“I guess so. You don’t drink, and you eat healthy. Raw, it seems like. I’ve never seen you eat anything cooked.”
He squinted in the sunlight as he tapped the tip of his nose.
“But even with all of that, how does it help you resist manipulation?” It had been on my mind since Daria and I had talked about it yesterday morning.
The corner of Asa’s mouth curled. “You want me to teach you how.”
“I don’t like the idea of having my free will taken away, you know?”
“Yeah. I know.”
We stopped at the van to load up my heinously heavy suitcase, then went up to his room. “I’ll give you a quick lesson, then I’ll get ready and we’ll be out of here.”
He grabbed his cargo pants from the dresser and sifted through the pockets, pulling out his Pez dispenser and two of the jacks. He held up the Pez dispenser. It was olive green and had a little pointed tail. The elongated alien head was hideous, looking just as it did in the Sigourney Weaver movies, and when he pressed his thumb to the back of it, the fanged mouth opened to offer up a yellowish tablet. “Suck on this for a minute, and then focus on not doing a single damn thing I tell you to do. That shouldn’t be too hard, right? You’ve already had plenty of practice.”
I took a step back. “Before we do this . . . can you just promise that you won’t ask me to do anything . . . um . . .” I crossed my arms over my chest again.
His arm fell to his side. “I don’t play that way, Mattie.”
I looked into his eyes, and it was all I needed to tell me he was completely sincere. “Okay.” I opened my mouth, and he h
eld out the dispenser, letting the little tab drop onto my tongue. I winced at its sour tang and tried not to think about what it was made of. It dissolved quickly, and I swallowed the acid saliva that had pooled in my mouth. “Now what?”
“Now you sit down.”
I sat. It was the best idea I’d heard all day.
“Stand up.”
I got to my feet. It felt awesome to stretch.
“I’m disappointed, Mattie,” he said in an amused voice.
“God, I’m so sorry.”
“Try harder.”
“Okay.” What was I trying to do? Wait. I was supposed to be disobeying him. That was the whole point of this! Except . . . everything he said made so much sense.
“I think you need to pick up my dirty socks over there.” He pointed to a crumpled pair of black socks lying by his boots.
“You got it.” I started for the socks, but the closer I got, the more it struck me that this was kind of gross. “Are you sure?”
“Dead sure. Pick ’em up.”
I did. They smelled funky.
He reached into his bag and pulled out a small bottle of laundry detergent. “Go wash them in the sink for me.”
He tossed the bottle at me and I caught it. Then I skipped over to the sink and filled it with warm water, added the soap, and scrubbed at the socks, relieved as the scent of crisp linen reached my nose. I finished up, squeezed the extra water out of the socks, and laid them on the counter. When I looked up at the mirror over the sink, I gasped. Asa was right behind me. He leaned down and took my hand, and then pressed the two jacks into my palm, closing my fingers around them. “Now tell me how you and Ben met.”
My mouth opened to tell him about that first day on the job, the way Ben and I had worked together to vaccinate all those wriggling puppies, the way his smile had made my heart race, the way he’d taken me out for coffee afterward to show his gratitude, which he admitted later was just an excuse to get me to go on a date with him. But my breath caught as Asa squeezed my hand, causing the points of the jacks to dig into my skin. “Um,” I said, wincing. “I . . .” Wasn’t sure I should be telling him this, actually.
“Come on, Mattie,” Asa said, his voice silky. “I told you all those things about myself yesterday. You tell me something.” His face was only a few inches from mine. My curls were brushing his lips as he spoke, and I could feel the warmth of his breath in my ear. “Tell me about you and Ben.”
He loosened his grip on my fist, easing the pain, and my wish to share all my memories returned, full force. Asa had been pretty forthcoming yesterday, but I hadn’t told him much about me at all. “We used to—”
Asa contracted his fingers over my hand again, making the points of the jacks burrow into my palm once more.
“Hey,” I whined. “You’re . . .” I looked down at our hands, his over mine, holding my fingers closed tightly around those little metal torture devices. “You don’t really want to know about me and Ben.”
“Damn straight. See how it works?” He let go of my hand and stepped away from me.
I lifted my hand and looked at the jacks sitting on my palm. “It’s that easy?”
“Be a love and get Gracie a snack, will you?”
I walked over to where her bowls sat, and she jumped to her feet, the stump of her tail wagging frantically. “No problem.”
Asa sighed. “Not quite that easy, apparently.”
I poked at his duffel bag. “Where do you keep the food?”
“Squeeze those jacks like your life depends on it, Mattie.”
I obeyed, waiting for my next command.
“Now clean out Gracie’s food bowl.” Asa gave me a nasty smile. “With your tongue.”
“What is wrong with you?” I asked, but Asa only chuckled and gestured at my hand, still closed around the jacks.
“You have to be sharp and alert before I tell you to do something, or you won’t remember to resist,” he explained.
“But how will I know someone is about to manipulate me?”
He shrugged. “You won’t. I can feel those mindfuckers a mile off, but you can’t.”
“So all I need to do is walk around squeezing a handful of jacks at all times? Very reasonable.” I dropped them onto the bed and rubbed at the little indentations left on my palm, feeling a little hopeless. “How did you resist Mrs. Wong, though? Your jacks were on the table.”
Asa walked over to his boots and reached inside, then pulled out a small, square patch of coarse wire bristles. “Comes in handy sometimes.”
“So you hurt yourself to keep your mind clear.”
He slid the patch of bristles back into the toe of his boot. “It works.” He gestured at the door. “Thanks for washing my socks. Could you go take Gracie for a walk while I get ready to go?”
“Of course.” I grabbed the lead that was lying on the desk and clipped it to Gracie’s collar. “How much time do you need?”
He smirked. “No more than twenty.”
“We’ll be waiting by the van.” I headed out the door with Gracie by my side.
It wasn’t until we were a few blocks away that I realized I probably should have asked him when the magic would wear off.
We made it to Denver by dinnertime, but we agreed to off-load the healing magic before settling in for the night. Zhi had given Asa a contact for a conduit, and a few hours out, Asa gave the guy a call and set up the meeting. Zhi’s mother was a patient at the cancer center in Aurora. We had to get the magic into a relic of the woman’s choosing and leave it in her possession, where Zhi hoped it would prolong her mother’s life—at least until Zhi could convince Zhong Lei to let her travel to Denver to visit.
I’ll admit I was having less than charitable thoughts after the whole episode with Hualing, but after learning that Zhi was only trying to make it to her mother’s bedside, it was hard to hate her all that much. If it were my mom, I would have done everything I could have, too.
Our conduit was an elderly African American gentleman who introduced himself as Jack Okafor. He had big hands, a sturdy body that looked strong despite his advanced age, and a short salt-and-pepper beard. Asa relaxed a little after shaking his hand. I think he recognized Jack for what he was—an experienced professional who wouldn’t fall apart on the job. Jack gave me a warm smile as we introduced ourselves. But as soon as I told him my name was Mattie Carver, his eyes went wide. “Carver?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said as I pulled my hand from his warm grasp.
“Ring a bell?” Asa asked, watching him closely.
Jack waved his hands in front of him. “No, not really. Common name.”
“Right,” said Asa, never taking his eyes off Jack. “Well, let’s get this done.”
It was an easy job. Zhi’s mother had the relic—a brooch made of pearls and silver. Jack and I sat by her bedside while Asa lurked behind us, standing guard. It was quick, and Jack seemed refreshed by the healing magic as it passed through him and into the brooch. I felt as I always did after—a little hungry, a little relieved to have my body to myself again.
“Anyone up for dinner?” Jack asked as we headed out of the hospital. “There’s a diner right at the corner here.” He gestured up the block.
“Absolutely,” I said. “I’m starving.”
“You guys go ahead,” said Asa. “I’m going to walk Gracie and get us a place to stay. Meet at the van in an hour or so?”
We went our separate ways. Jack was a solid presence at my side as we strolled toward the restaurant. “I was hoping I could talk to you alone,” he said. “You’re a reliquary. And a really strong one, from what I can tell. In fact, I’ve only known one other who was as strong.”
I stopped at the door to the restaurant and turned to him. “You knew my grandfather, didn’t you? He said he had a conduit friend named Jack.”
He gave me a gentle smile. “If his name’s Howard Carver, then yes, I did.”
Relief rushed through me, so sudden that I swayed on my feet. We hea
ded inside, where he regaled me with stories of his adventures with my grandpa—the tough and tricky pieces of magic they’d delivered together all over the world, the fun they’d had, the money they’d made. “Howard still had a lot of good years in him when he retired,” Jack finally said.
I’d polished off a turkey club and a strawberry shake, and I smiled as I twirled my straw in its glass. “I think he did it for my grandma. She really wanted to settle down.”
Jack nodded. “He adored her. Missed her a lot when we were traveling. Missed his son, too. Your dad isn’t a reliquary, though.” He chuckled, a deep, rich sound. “Did Howie tell you about the time we tried to find out?”
I laughed and nodded. “You’re the one who tried to slip him that little bit of pain magic.”
“Like the static shock from hell,” Jack said, his shoulders shaking. “Zzzz—zzz-zzz. It had nowhere to go, and Howie wouldn’t let up! After that, we knew the kid wasn’t going to be in the business.” He looked up at me. “But here you are. How long you been doing this?”
I bit my lip. “Three days now?”
His brow furrowed. “What?”
“I kind of fell into it.” I shook my head. “Actually, I literally fell into it.”
The lines around his mouth deepened. “And you’re working with Asa Ward.”
“Do you know him?”
“He’s known. That’s all I can say.”
“And?”
Jack sat back and pushed his half-eaten plate of ribs away. “Does Howie know you’re here?”
“Sort of. He knows I’m looking for my fiancé, who happens to be Asa’s brother.” Jack was the first person in this world who I’d told, but I already felt like I could trust him.
Jack’s eyebrows shot up. “Asa has a brother?”
“He’s not a natural. He’s just . . . his name is Ben. And we think someone working for the West Coast boss might have taken him.”
Jack looked around, reminding me of Asa as he scanned the faces of the people in the diner. “And Howie let you come here on your own?”