Ink Witch (Kat Dubois Chronicles Book 1)

by Lindsey Fairleigh

  I set the coat down, hoping doing so would do enough to reassure her that I really would come back. I did pull the anti-At orb from the pocket, though; I wasn’t willing to leave that behind with a bunch of Nejerets. To a human, it would be relatively safe—erasing them from the echoes, but nothing more, since no ba connected them to that higher plane. But to a Nejeret with a ba, it would unmake them, body and soul. Only I had immunity, thanks to the Eye of Horus inked in At on my hand.

  Once the orb was out in the open again, Heru’s eyes locked onto it.

  “I’ll be back in a bit.” I checked the clock on the wall. It was nearly five in the morning. “The cafeteria opens soon. Maybe we can grab breakfast when I get back?”

  Lex nodded. “That sounds good.”

  I found the stairs and headed up a floor, wandering its hallways and corridors while I tossed and caught the orb, over and over. I passed someone in scrubs every now and again, but there weren’t too many people around. Certainly not many visitors at this hour of the morning, and none of them cops, which I figured would be the first sign that my hunt for Garth was bearing fruit. Nobody seemed concerned about my presence, at least not once they caught sight of the bandage on my abdomen. I supposed they thought I was a patient, even if I wasn’t wearing a hospital gown.

  Harborview Medical Center is an enormous facility made up of at least a dozen buildings, some connected, others standing on their own small block. I mostly just stuck to the main cluster of five interconnected buildings. After I’d done a full circuit of the second floor, I moved up to the third using the same stairwell as before.

  It spat me out into a waiting room filled with cops. I froze in the doorway, heavy fire door propped open against my shoulder. All eyes were on me.

  Their scrutiny was so intense that I started to ease back into the stairwell, but when my brain finally put two and two together and I realized this must be where Garth was being treated, I changed my trajectory. Slowly, I pushed through the door and into the waiting room. I spotted walrusy Officer Henderson sitting in the corner in jeans and a wrinkled blue polo. He was easy to recognize, even out of his uniform.

  Henderson stood and I planted my feet, head held high, bolstering myself for the inevitable ejection from this apparently cop-only shindig. “I suppose you’re looking for Garth?” he said as he drew near.

  I nodded, my gaze flicking to the side at a whispered “Ink Witch.” I ground my teeth together.

  “Come on.” Henderson waved me onward. “He’s been asking for you.”

  My eyes widened, stinging as shame welled within me. It had taken me hours to come looking for Garth, I’d been so focused on Dom. Sure, I’d been passed out most of that time, but I certainly hadn’t come as soon as I could’ve.

  Henderson led me through the wide entrance into the intensive care unit. Lead settled in my stomach. It was my fault that Garth was here. The space was bustling with activity, and the incessant cacophony of arrhythmic beeping was enough to drive a Nejeret nuts.

  We made a right, then a left, and Henderson stopped at the third doorway on the right. He reached into the room and knocked on the open door. “You decent, kid?”

  “Why?” Garth said. “You looking for a show?”

  My lips curved into a small smile at hearing his voice. He was alright.

  Henderson laughed, a low, rough sound that came from his belly. “You’ve got a lady visitor.”

  “I said no strippers!”

  Henderson gave me a questioning look.

  I crossed my arms and raised one eyebrow. “I’m not a stripper.”

  “Kat?” Garth asked from within the room. “Is that you?”

  After a deep breath—and another—I walked into the hospital room. Garth was propped up to a reclined sitting position, an entourage of beeping machines and IV bags on racks surrounding the upper half of his bed. His distinctive, noble features were mottled with bruises and cuts, and his hospital gown looked flimsy on his large frame.

  “Hey,” I said, forcing a lame smile.

  He scanned me. “You look like crap.”

  I laughed. It only sounded slightly nervous. “Right back at you,” I said with a halfhearted wink. I sat in the chair some visitor before me had left at his bedside.

  “What happened?” he asked, his eyes searching my face. “When you didn’t show up, I thought you’d pulled a fast one on me, but then your friend was there, and then we were jumped by that guy from—” He cleared his throat, then succumbed to a pretty painful-looking coughing fit.

  I reached for the plastic cup and pitcher on his wheely tray and poured him a glass of water.

  “Thanks,” he said when he’d regained his voice. “I was afraid . . . I thought he must’ve gotten to you first.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “He who?” Maybe someone else who worked with Mari?

  “The guy from the bar—you remember him, don’t you? The bartender . . . ?”

  The blood drained from my face, and I went cold all over. That fucking shitstain—I still didn’t know his name—must’ve overheard Garth say “Nejeret” in the bar. I pressed my lips together and focused on breathing through the sudden spike of adrenaline. I would kill that fucker. It would be the first time I’d killed someone I’d had any kind of sexual involvement with, but that wouldn’t stop me. My gaze strayed from Garth’s as memories from that stairwell flashed through my mind, and silence stretched between us.

  “Kat?”

  I refocused on Garth. “How do you know what I am?” I asked, shooting a quick glance at the door. I had to know just how much he knew, just how dangerous he was—to my people, and to himself.

  He was quiet for a moment, then cleared his throat. “Do you know anything of my people’s history?” he said, so softly that I wouldn’t have been able to hear him if I’d been human. His gaze met mine like he was waiting for an answer. Like he knew I’d heard him.

  My eyes narrowed, just a little. “The Squamish? Some . . .” I knew what most kids who grow up in Seattle know: that the Squamish had been moved onto a reservation in the mid-1800s, and that their chief had been the famous Chief Sealth that Seattle was named for. I also knew a smidgen more—over a century ago, the Squamish helped a Nejeret who was lost in time: my half-sister, Lex.

  “I changed my last name to Smith when I was in middle school,” Garth said. “Kids can be cruel, and they thought I was trying to claim that I was the prince of Seattle because of my last name.”

  “Which is . . . ?”

  “Seattle.”

  My eyebrows rose, and I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “So Chief Sealth was your—”

  “Great-great-great-great-great-grandfather, yes,” Garth said with a nod. He stared past me at the broad window. “And my family has passed down a certain secret history, one that belongs only to us.” He sipped his water. “My people believe that everything has a spirit—the eagles and crows, the trees, the Puget Sound . . . even the land itself. One day, two centuries ago, the spirit of a doe took human form and tasked Sealth’s grandfather with a sacred duty. He was to teach his children of this duty so they might be prepared when the day came.”

  I licked my lips, already guessing where this was going. “What was the duty?”

  “A woman would arrive one day, another spirit, and she would need my family’s help.” He looked at me, saw me, and ever so quietly whispered, “Her name was Alexandra, and she was a Nejeret.”

  I stared at him, stunned into silence. He was so much more entangled in our history than I’d feared, and I was suddenly terrified that our burgeoning friendship would be the thing that brought the rage of the Senate crashing down on him and his family. I had to put some emotional distance between us, and I had to do it now.

  “I did,” I blurted, eyes locked with his. “Pull a fast one on you.” I glanced down at my hands, fingers knotted together. “But I swear it was only to keep you out of danger, not to put you in it, and I’m so sorry.”

  “Oh.” He so
unded hurt. Good. Now I just had to make him see. Make him understand.

  I forced myself to look at him. “I mean it, Garth. This thing that I’m investigating—it’s bad. It’s so much worse than anything you could’ve imagined, and I didn’t want you to get drawn in any deeper. My world’s not safe for people like—”

  “Just stop,” he said. Now it was his turn to purposely not look at me. “You should probably go.”

  “Garth—” Maybe I’d hurt him too much. If he wasn’t willing to listen to me, he might be more of a danger to himself than he was before.

  He turned his face further away from me. He wouldn’t listen to me. Not right now. I’d have to find another way to make him listen. To make him understand just how important his silence was.

  I nodded and stood, swallowing roughly. “Do you know what happened to Nik?” I asked.

  Garth shook his head. “He was there when I blacked out, gone when I came to.”

  My nostrils flared. This was on me; I accepted that. But it was also on that damned bartender. And he would answer for it—just as soon as I’d dealt with Mari.

  18

  After leaving Garth’s room, I headed back down to the waiting area. The moment I saw Lex, sitting there, looking generally miserable, I realized there was maybe one way I could get Garth to listen to me and lift my half-sister’s spirits a bit.

  “Hey, Lex,” I said as I drew nearer. “There’s something I want to show you.”

  She glanced at Heru, her hand settling on his knee. An unspoken conversation passed between them, and he nodded. She leaned in, kissing him on the cheek, then stood and smoothed down the front of her sweater and jeans.

  “Come on,” I said, leading her back the way I’d just come. “It’s not far . . . just up a couple floors.”

  Lex looked over her shoulder, her lip pulled between her teeth and her brow furrowed.

  “It won’t take long,” I promised. “Just trust me.” I couldn’t help the lilt of a question. I didn’t know if she trusted me at all anymore. And if she did, I wasn’t sure whether she should.

  We emerged from the third floor stairwell into the waiting room packed full of police officers a couple minutes later. Lex looked around, eyebrows raised. I waved to Henderson, and he gave me a slight nod.

  “Where are you taking me?” Lex asked, laughing nervously.

  I grinned at her over my shoulder. “There’s someone I want you to meet. Someone you’ll want to meet.”

  We reached Garth’s room, and I peeked around the doorframe. He was just as I’d left him, gaze focused on the window and the rain pouring down in sheets outside.

  “Garth, there’s—”

  “I told you to—” His dismissal died out when he looked at me. Or rather, looked past me, no doubt at Lex. His focus returned to me, confusion lighting his brown eyes.

  “Garth,” I said, stepping into the room. I reached behind me, finding Lex’s arm, and pulled her in after me. “This is my sister, Lex—Alexandra.” It was the name his people had known her by when she’d passed through their land—and time—over a century and a half ago.

  Garth’s eyes bugged out.

  I turned to Lex. “This is Officer Garth Smith, who changed his last name when he was in middle school . . . from Seattle. He’s descended from Chief Sealth.”

  Lex’s eyes narrowed, and a second later, her lips spread into a broad grin, her gaze sliding past me and landing on Garth. “You—” She moved further into the room to stand behind the chair at Garth’s bedside. “How?” She looked from Garth to me and back.

  “Chief Sealth’s daughter, Kikisoblu, was my great-great-great-great-grandmother. I grew up hearing stories of you and your people, but I never really believed any of them until I met Kat.” His eyes shifted to me. “I did some digging after our first meeting. I found your birth certificate.” The corner of his mouth lifted, and he scanned me from head to toe, giving me an appreciative nod. “You look good for a thirty-eight-year-old.”

  Heat suffused my cheeks.

  “I—” Lex shot me a questioning glance, and I nodded, letting her know that he knew exactly who she was—and what we were. “I knew Kikisoblu . . . not well, but she saved my life once when I was in a bit of a sticky situation. She was a remarkable woman. And Sealth . . .” She shook her head, laughing under her breath. “He was something else.”

  “This is unreal,” Garth said.

  “Truly incredible,” Lex agreed. “Can I ask you—how many of your people know of us?”

  “Just my family,” Garth told her. “We’ve kept your secret, just as we promised all those years ago.”

  “Then you know how important it is that you continue to keep that secret a, well, secret,” Lex said.

  “Which means not telling every Nejeret you cross paths with that you know what they are,” I added.

  Alarm flashed across Lex’s crimson eyes. “I can propose his name be added to the protected humans list, but there are no guarantees . . .”

  Garth’s expression turned quizzical.

  “I’m pretty sure that’s why you were attacked,” I explained. “You know too much, and the wrong person found out. To the rest of the world, you have to pretend that we don’t exist.” I snorted out a breath. “It’s probably best if you just forget about us.”

  “Kat!” Lex said, giving me a look of scandalized disbelief. She shook her head, her eyes narrowed, and laughed under her breath. When her attention shifted back to Garth, her features smoothed over. “I’d like to speak with you more, I really would,” she said, “but I should get back downstairs. Our brother was the victim of a—well, he’s in bad shape down in the ER. They’re not sure if he’ll . . .” Lex’s voice seemed to catch in her throat. “We should get back.”

  Garth looked at me, some measure of forgiveness in his gaze.

  I risked the tiniest of apologetic smiles.

  “You should go,” he said. Though the words were the same ones he’d spoken earlier, they felt entirely different. “I’m not going anywhere for a while, so you know where to find me.”

  Lex started back across the room, but she stopped halfway and turned back to Garth. “Kat’s right, though. This secret—what we are—it’s dangerous . . .”

  Garth’s eyes shifted to Lex, then back to me. “So the Ink Witch keeps telling me.”

  I bristled. “You know, I really hate that name.”

  Garth chuckled. “I know.”

  Lex and I were halfway down the stairwell by the time she spoke again. “Ink Witch?”

  I groaned. “It’s a stupid nickname.”

  “Oh.” She was quiet for a few seconds, but I could feel her sidelong stare on my face. “I think he likes you. But he’s upset with you, too.”

  “He’s in here because of me,” I said. “Because of all this . . .” I shook my head as we started down the final flight of stairs. “I tried to keep him out of it, but it just made things worse.” I considered telling her about the bartender, but I wanted to deal with him on my own, Senate agent or not. “I never should’ve visited him at the station. It would’ve have been best for him if he’d never met me at all.”

  Lex grabbed my wrist, pulling me to a halt halfway down the stairs. “Do you really think that?”

  I eyed her. “It would have been best for him if he’d never met me. It’s safer that way.”

  Lex shook her head, her brow furrowed. “You don’t get to choose what’s best for people, Kit-Kat. There’s one person in this world that you’re responsible for—you.” She gave my wrist a tug, then let it go. “It’s not your job—your right—to decide what’s good or bad for other people.” Her carmine eyes searched mine. “Don’t you get that?”

  I looked away, focusing on the wall.

  “Like with your mom . . .” With those four words, it felt like she’d rammed me in the chest with a wrecking ball. “She made the choice that was best for her—trading her life for yours.”

  A tear leaked from the corner of my eye, and I jutt
ed out my jaw to keep my chin from trembling. “If it weren’t for me, she’d still be here.”

  “She chose your life over hers, Kat. She chose that, not you. You have to let her take ownership of that choice.” Steel seeped into Lex’s voice. “Stop making decisions for the people around you. We’re all responsible for ourselves, for our choices. We love you, and you don’t get to take that away just because it scares you. Because that love is ours, not yours.”

  I closed my eyes in a long blink, then looked at her. I had no words, just a shit-ton of long-dormant emotions all unfurling at once.

  “Stop punishing yourself for your mom’s choice. You’ve twisted it into something shameful in your head, but what she did was selfless; it was beautiful. Give her a little credit, for once in your life. Be proud that she was your mom . . . that you’re her daughter. Be the legacy she deserves.”

  I looked up at the shiny, whitewashed cement ceiling. Tears streamed from the corners of my eyes.

  “I’ll give you a moment,” Lex said, continuing down the stairs. “Come join us when you’re ready.”

  “Yeah,” I said, voice raspy. “Sure.” I sunk down to sit on a stair and rested the side of my head against the metal railing.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered. Because Lex was right. About everything. I’d been an ass for the last two decades. Ever since my mom shoved me out of the way of the gun and took the bullet meant for me, I’d made it all about me—about my loss. But it wasn’t. It was about her—her choice. Her sacrifice. Her gift.

  As I sat in that stairwell, facing the things I’d been hiding from for all these years, it felt like the whole world shifted around me. Everything I’d believed was based on faulty logic. On a foundation of cardboard and Styrofoam. I’d been wrong—blind—and I was finally ready to accept it. I’d been in hiding from myself for twenty years, but not anymore. Never again.

  19

  When I emerged from the stairwell, Aset was standing near where Lex and Heru were sitting in the waiting area. As soon as I stepped onto the sitting area’s rug, Aset stomped over to me, raised her hand, and slapped me. Hard.