Elisa settled back down on her heels. What was really going on? Maybe she needed to stop blindly following Adrian’s instructions and think about things more carefully. It was time to get a few questions answered.
As she rubbed her hand over her face, trying to plan her next step, another knock sounded at the door.
Elisa ran to the peephole. At the sight of the person on the other side, she threw open the door.
Adrian.
His hair was disheveled and there were shadows under his eyes, but her heart leaped and she threw herself into his arms.
“Adrian! I’ve missed you so much!”
“There isn’t enough oxygen in the air without you either, Elisa.” He held her for a long moment before gently detaching himself and closing the door. When he saw Kim, his voice became cold and hard. “What’s she doing here?”
“She came to my door with a bullet wound.” Elisa fluttered her hands. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I had to help her—”
“Elisa, what have I told you about being far too trusting?” He strode to the couch and examined the unconscious Kim, checking the bandage on her upper arm.
“What story did she feed you?” His expression was icy.
“But it was true! She’d been shot.”
“Did she say who did it?”
“She was kind of delirious. She started talking about Mario and Hundley being traitors.”
“I see. How interesting,” he remarked, glancing at the tray piled with bloody washcloths. “It seems I’ll have to talk to her after all. That bullet wound might need care,” he added idly, his fingers going to the bandage. Kim stirred restlessly at his touch, moaning.
“I had to take the bullet out of her arm myself.”
Adrian raised his eyebrows. “You did? Impressive. I didn’t think you had any medical training.”
“I don’t.”
He carefully unwrapped the bandage and inspected the wound. “This was a good job.”
“It’s still infected.”
“But the swelling is going down. Did you pour alcohol on it?”
Elisa nodded.
“I left a first-aid kit in your bathroom. Why don’t you get her an antibiotic?”
She had taken out the antibiotic pills earlier, not too surprised to see prescription medication in Adrian’s special first-aid kit. She’d thought she’d give one to Kim when she woke up, so it only took her a few seconds to grab the pills and return to the living room. Adrian had already awakened Kim. She was shaking her head weakly when Elisa returned.
“But, Captain—” Kim said.
Captain. A cold wave washed over Elisa.
She heard Kim’s words again. Tell the Captain.
No.
“No—” she said, her hands splayed in front of her in unconscious defense.
Adrian rose to take the medicine, smiling. “Thanks for the antibiotic. Kim was just telling me some details of the Captain’s latest plans,” he said smoothly. “I hope you understand that this is all confidential.”
He took the medication from Elisa’s boneless hand.
He was so good at lying. His cover personality as a harmless nerd was so well-crafted. He’d never seemed afraid of the gang, unlike everyone else. He’d always seemed confident they would act precisely as he expected. In the back of her mind, Elisa had known that something was off. He didn’t act like someone who performed tasks or ran errands for a dangerous criminal gang.
He acted like he was in command.
She had written it off as his personality and his supreme self-confidence. No. She’d lied to herself because she hadn’t wanted to admit that her boyfriend could be the leader of a murderous criminal gang.
“No,” she said again.
Adrian ignored the pills in his hand. His expression reflected only mild puzzlement. “What’s wrong, Elisa?” he asked gently.
“No—it can’t be,” she whispered.
He took her in his arms. She was stiff and shaking. “Come,” he said, reassuring. “Sit down on the couch. You look like you’re going to faint. I know it can be rather disconcerting to have a woman with a bullet wound end up in your living room.”
She sat and leaned against him. He stroked her hair. “Shall I make you something warm, Elisa?” He let her slump against the couch. “Kim, why don’t you tell us what happened while I make hot chocolate?”
Obediently, Kim struggled to a semi-reclining position as Adrian headed for the kitchen. “Okay, I was on a raid for—for the Captain. Everything’s been a fucking mess lately.” She took a few ragged breaths. “I already reported to Rory about Mario’s meeting with this creepy guy last week. So I decided to follow him last night.
“It was dark and raining and pretty hard to see where he was going. But finally, he went inside an old building on Ninth Street. Another guy was lurking around, too, and I saw him go in the side door. It was Vince Devore.” She glanced sidelong at Elisa. “You know, the narc.”
Adrian said nothing as he took some mugs from the cupboard.
The pot began a warbling whistle. “I saw Hundley hanging around too. Mario’s a traitor.” Kim’s voice was harsh. “Dunno about Hundley. I was gonna wait for Mario and the narc to come out, but then—someone fucking shot me. I never saw them.” She closed her eyes. “So I ducked behind some garbage in the alley. Started feeling kinda faint, thought they’d come back to finish me off, so I snuck away to hide. When I woke up, I saw I was near Elisa’s apartment. I remembered it from our previous… I mean, from—anyway, I knew it was near. I thought, hey, she’s a member now, maybe she’ll help.” She shrugged. “Didn’t have anywhere else to go.”
Adrian remained outwardly calm as he poured boiling water into three mugs.
“That fucking traitor Mario is planning to k—” Kim broke off and glanced at Elisa again. “He’s planning some bad shit.”
Adrian returned to the living room with the mugs steaming on a tray. The rich smell of chocolate filled the room. “Kim, just because Mario spends a little time talking with a narc doesn’t make him a traitor.”
“Fuck,” Kim whispered. “Didn’t you get the report from Rory?”
“There are many possible reasons why Mario could have been doing what he’s doing.” Adrian handed each of the girls a mug. His voice was reasonable as he ticked off points on his fingers. “He could have been on special orders from the Captain. He could have been gathering information. He could have been trying to suborn Devore.” He sipped his hot chocolate. “Kim, you’re jumping to conclusions. Mario’s loyalty is not in question.”
Kim shook her head, confused. “No…”
“Why are you so solicitous of my welfare? Haven’t you and I been at odds lately?”
“You know I’ve always been loyal.” Her eyes slid over to Elisa. “Loyal to Tenebras, that is. Uh, we both are.” She lowered her mug.
Adrian took it as she slumped over and emitted a very loud snore.
Elisa would have laughed, but she had also become very sleepy. She yawned widely. Adrian watched her over the rim of his mug.
She lay back on the couch, closing her eyes. Adrian took the mug from her hand. He lifted her, carried her into the bedroom and gently tucked her into bed. Just like Carlos had done when she was very young. But she could no longer think coherently, and the last thing she remembered was the comforting touch of Adrian’s hand, folding the blankets over her.
26
Adrian
ADRIAN WATCHED Elisa lying peacefully asleep in her bed, her hair spread across the pillow, her face blessedly relaxed now, no longer filled with that soul-wrenching doubt and agony—doubt about him.
He turned away from her, his face twisting since no one could see it. Pain tore at him like a knife, as though his chest had been cut open and his blood turned to acid. It had finally become real to him: he might lose her, and it was agony.
Slipping Ambien into both of their drinks had been overkill, rather inelegant of him. But when he had seen the sh
ock in Elisa’s eyes after Kim made that clumsy slip in front of her, he had, uncharacteristically, panicked. He had only wanted to get Kim, the blundering idiot, away from Elisa by any means possible, without damaging himself in her eyes any further.
He had planned to reveal the truth to Elisa, but not so soon, and not so abruptly. Now everything involving Elisa was spinning out of control, ironically, just as his other plans were going so well. He wasn’t used to having things go so far awry. He wasn’t used to having to deal with… feelings. He had always thought he was a rational being.
How could he have been so wrong?
So wrong about so many things.
It was hard to believe, but Elisa had forgiven Kim—had forgiven someone who had clearly wronged her. In his world of revenge, justice, and retribution, such a thing was unthinkable. Foolish. Insanely naïve.
And yet… he could see it in Kim’s eyes. Whatever hatred she had once borne in her heart toward Elisa had dissolved. She had become, against all odds, a friend.
He went back to the other room, took out his cell phone. He made a call, gave the order to have Kim taken to headquarters and kept locked up for safety. He would decide what to do with her later.
He returned to Elisa’s bedroom and sat down beside her. And there, where no one could see, he dropped his head into his hands.
Elisa’s lips were gently parted, her lashes brushing her cheeks. Adrian knew how she would react when she finally admitted to herself that he was the Captain of Tenebras.
If he were a good man, he thought bitterly, a decent and good man, he would let Elisa go. She clearly deserved someone far better than him. Someone who wouldn’t expose her to danger, someone who wouldn’t threaten her values, someone who wasn’t hard and cold, and yes, evil, like him. All the love, all the goodness, all the things that mattered had been burned out of him. He was eighteen and all used up.
He had done it to himself.
She deserved a good man who could love her the way she needed to be loved.
He should walk away. For her sake. Make it utterly clear to her and everyone else that he was done with her. Make the pretend distance real.
Take up with someone else.
But even as he thought it his mind rejected the idea violently. Take up with someone else? There would never be anyone else. He couldn’t even pretend with anyone else. Ever. How could he have imitation sex with anyone now that he had tasted the real thing? Now that he knew the kind of love that went bone deep. Soul deep. The pull toward another human being that slammed into you, took you over with a force more fundamental than gravity.
If she left him, everything would shut down. The moment she was gone, there would no longer be any direction, any sense, any foundation to his life. His heart would beat a meaningless rhythm until it inevitably ground to a stop. He would spend what little time he had left making up for the evil he had done on this earth. It was a debt that was far too great to pay, but he would do what he could.
And then… he would find a way to die the death he deserved.
If he were a good man, he would accept that fate and leave Elisa to a better one.
But…
But he was not a good man.
He stretched out on the bed full-length, facing her as she slept. He ran his hands through her warm, silky hair, stroked her cheeks gently with his thumbs. She half-turned into his touch, murmuring. He thought he heard his name on her lips, and he leaned forward to kiss them gently. They were soft, soft and warm, alive and vibrant. Life-giving.
No. Giving up was not an option. He would do whatever it took to earn her love.
Even if it meant playing by her rules.
Even if it meant giving up everything for her.
He would change his plans. At least, he could count on one person who was utterly loyal.
He took out his phone. “There’s something urgent I need to do at the lab. In the meantime, I have another task for you, Rory.”
Jim
Jim Holman stared at the open file on the lab computer, his heart thumping. He had just been playing around, pretending he was the infamous hacker Anonymous Jim, breaking into major computer systems around the globe. He’d tried a few of his uncle’s old passwords, which he had found in his desk drawer, and had thought it might be fun to put one over on the old man. But as the text scrolled past his eyes, he broke into a sweat. If this was what it looked like, the old man was not the person he thought he knew.
Jim swallowed, trying to decide what to do. This was something bigger than he was used to handling. He frowned. Mr. Schwartz had been giving him a hard time about slacking off at work. Why, the hypocrite! If Jim was right about what was going on here, his uncle and Mr. Schwartz were involved in some big time criminal activity.
Jim closed his eyes. He remembered a conversation in the break room a few months ago. It now made so much more sense. Mr. Schwartz had complained that finances were bad, and had announced that he might have to “follow in DeLorean’s footsteps.” There had been general laughter from the other adults, including Uncle Eric.
When Jim had demanded an explanation, Uncle Eric, after much laughter, had finally said that John DeLorean was the founder of an auto manufacturer a few decades ago who had run into financial trouble while designing an innovative car he thought would take the world by storm.
“Yeah,” added Mr. Schwartz, grinning. “He made a car that was so fast, it could really suck up the white line.” Everybody else broke up into helpless laughter. Annoyed, Jim had demanded that they share the joke.
Uncle Eric scratched his head. “They say that DeLorean entered into a drug deal, trying to move a large shipment of cocaine in order to get quick cash to shore up his floundering car company.”
“You’re not serious!” Jim demanded, and the adults had exchanged glances.
“No, of course not, Jim,” said Mr. Schwartz. “DeLorean ended up in jail.”
“And his car was a piece of shit,” added Uncle Eric with a snort.
Jim had almost forgotten the discussion, writing it off as another of those old-timer in-jokes the adults seemed overly fond of. Recalling the conversation once again, his heart hammered. He stared at the chemical formulas scrolling across his screen. He needed to talk to someone. But who? Not Uncle Eric, not the cops. He didn’t want to get himself or his uncle in trouble. Then he thought of his sister. He and Mira were constantly at each other’s throats, but when the chips were down, there was no one he could count on more. He yanked his cell phone out of his pocket.
“Breaking news, Mira!” he stage-whispered when she answered. “Come to the second-floor computer lab. I’ve got a life-or-death hack I need to show you.”
Adrian
Adrian glanced at the lab clock. 4 AM. He rubbed the back of his hand over his forehead. His eyes were starting to blur. He’d been running tests for hours, comparing the results of his molecular simulations on the computer with the results in his test tubes. Nothing yet.
The door banged open, and Schwartz entered.
“Working late, Adrian?” Schwartz smiled with a thin veneer of benevolence. “I’m so glad to see our student interns being so enthusiastic.”
“I’m just following up on that line of research you asked me to take, to enhance the addictive potential of Rapture.”
Schwartz rubbed his hands together. “Good, good. Any results?”
“Not yet.”
“I’d recommend hurrying up. As long as you keep doing what you’re doing, you and everyone else will be safe.”
Adrian clenched his fists. “I don’t think so. It’s worse than anything I expected. I’ve found signs that there’s an unpredictable environmental factor that, when combined with Rapture, is more deadly than we thought. Even the slightest trace can then cause cellular degeneration at the telomere level. It means that everyone who’s handled Rapture is at risk. Not just the people who’ve taken it internally. Trace amounts on the skin could be enough to trigger this response.”
“Oh, come now, my boy. It can’t be that bad. I’m sure you’re exaggerating.”
Adrian shot him a level glance. “Do you want to take that risk? You’ve been exposed as well.”
“And I feel fine, my boy.” He chuckled, revealing yellowed teeth. “Keep on with what you’re doing. Soon I’ll have exactly what I need.”
Adrian’s face twisted with curiosity and frustration. “Which is what?”
Schwartz laughed. “You have no need to know. Besides, do you really want that on your conscience? You’re the one who invented Rapture, after all. Just remember, do as you’re told, and you and your… associates, will prosper and profit.”
Then his joviality dropped away from him like the stroke of a knife.
“Fail, and you will all die.”
Jim
“See?” Jim pointed out the next file to Mira. She sat beside him on a lab stool as they huddled over the computer screen. Her brows were drawn down, and she tugged absently at her pink-and-white t-shirt as she read.
“I don’t know, Jim.”
“Look,” said Jim, much more confident now in the presence of his sister. “It’s clear from this file that Uncle Eric and Mr. Schwartz are working together to make some illegal drug. And they’re working with that dork Adrian. You can see all the evidence here in black and white!”
“I don’t know,” she repeated, twisting the end of one of her pigtails around a finger. “What are we going to do? Is Uncle going to be arrested? Do you really want to get Uncle in trouble? And Mr. Schwartz?”
“You’re right,” he said, pounding his fist decisively into his open palm. “We don’t have enough to talk to the police or to Uncle. We need to do more research. Gather sufficient evidence. Like detectives, or private eyes,” he said, warming to his subject. “Here’s what we do,” he said. “We tail them!” He could already see himself sneaking around behind the nefarious suspects. He just needed to get the appropriate clothing for his new career. A trenchcoat?
Play at Soul's Edge Page 23