by Sonya Clark
“I am always ready to get naked with you.”
There—a ghost of a smile. He’d take what he could get.
Chapter Twenty-One
Tuyet walked between Hayes and Calla, eyes downcast. The sun boiled overhead, heat reflecting into her face from the cracked black asphalt below. A guard whistled in the distance, a harmless tune.
A wolf whistle then, “Hey, little girl. Come here, little girly girl.”
A group of kids played soccer at the end of the block, the ball going out-of-bounds after a wild kick. Loud swearing, most of it good-natured, bounced off building walls and echoed through the neighborhood.
A crowd screaming, hungry for blood, for violence. A teen boy, rail-thin and soaked in sweat, face a mask of terror, tossed into the ring by two older, bigger men. He pissed off the wrong person—now he would pay for it.
Hayes brushed the backs of his fingers against hers. She jumped at the slight touch. Nausea roiled in her belly as more memories forced themselves on her consciousness.
A meaty hand gripped her face, fingers biting into her flesh. “That’s it, little girl. Just like that.”
Bile rose in her throat, coating the back of her mouth with its acrid taste. No one had ever questioned why she restricted her FreakTown visits to the underground and Vadim’s club. Vadim knew more about Gehenna than anyone else, so it was likely he had an idea. The memories came hard and fast now, threatening her equilibrium. Faces, voices. The pinch of the spike sliding into a vein, followed by sweet oblivion. All the ugly things that made her need that oblivion like air.
“It’s not unusual for people to keep to themselves anymore,” Calla said. “Especially after something big happens. Nobody wants to draw too much attention.”
Hayes said, “So no one will think it’s strange if we stay in the apartment?”
“The four of us are pretty tight.” Calla must have meant herself and Nate and the real Mekhi and Zinnia. “It’ll be no problem to work it so that you’re seen with us once a day. Taking a walk. The library. If the four of us are together, Nate and I can run interference for you if necessary.”
Tuyet struggled to focus on the words and their meaning, the positive familiarity of Calla’s voice.
“Just like any other mission,” said Hayes.
She knew his words were directed at her. He was asking her to trade one set of memories for another, to cling to her Ranger training instead of the girl she’d been in Gehenna. As much as it sometimes pained her to admit it, the Ranger memories weren’t bad. Not at all. She’d learned to be strong there, stand on her own feet and fight for what was right. Not all of their lessons had been intentional, but every single one had been valuable. The thing that ate at her, a guilt that never went away, was that she’d learned so much from people who used and suppressed her kind. Because of her Ranger training, she’d been one of the best sojourners on the underground, leading countless people to freedom. Because of her Ranger training, she’d been able to help keep food and medicine coming into FreakTown after the ordinance that turned the zone into a prison, when rations weren’t enough.
With the help of her Ranger training, she was going to make Scott Channing pay for what he’d done.
The nausea subsided enough to let her reach for Hayes, linking her arm through his. “So how are they with PDA?”
Calla grinned. “They happen to be big fans of it.”
“That’s convenient.” Hayes pulled her closer and kissed her cheek. “We’re big fans of making out in public from way back.”
This time the memories that cascaded through her mind were full of sensual heat. She took comfort in them, and strength. They passed a guard shack, two uniformed DMS sitting at a tattered umbrella table outside playing cards and talking. They kept an eye on the soccer game but didn’t seem overly concerned about the kids. It was a marked difference from the behavior of guards in Gehenna.
“They always like that?” Tuyet indicated the guards with a jerk of her chin. “They seem pretty relaxed.”
“They got it out of their system last night. Finished the job of trashing the club that Vadim had the kids start. They’ll be pretty low-key for a while, at least a few days. Mostly it’s the agents who like to be hard-asses. There’s a few in uniform who get off on being dicks but for the most part, they’re just punching a clock. And not getting paid a hell of a lot either. I avoid them, but I don’t worry about them too much unless they’re wound up about something.”
What Calla was implying came through loud and clear. The lower-paid personnel had been the ones in Gehenna more susceptible to bribes and to occasionally treating the witches like they were people. Which way they went depended on the kind of person they were.
If Tuyet and Hayes were going to have to rely on nightshade dealers to smuggle them out of the zone, they might be finding out just who in DMS was on the payroll. Vadim might know some of the names but maybe she could pick up other useful intelligence.
Any way she could think of this as just another mission helped.
They reached a squat five-story building in relatively decent condition. The plaque on the wall by the entrance indicated there were ten apartments. Zinnia and Mekhi lived on the top floor. Zinnia had already given Tuyet a key and the necessary spells to deal with the wards.
Calla said, “One of us will check back with you later, see if you need anything. Vadim and I will be monitoring so try that way if it’s an emergency.”
Tuyet nodded, appreciating Calla’s discretion. Calla and Vadim would be checking often in case Tuyet had to send up a flare for help via trancehacking. Once in the apartment Tuyet quickly reset the wards and added some spells of her own. Hayes checked all the windows just to make sure the place was still secure as it had been when Zinnia left. Tuyet watched him move about the apartment. The dark skin and hazel eyes that spoke of Mekhi’s mixed heritage were a radical change from Mr. Jones. So were the braids that flowed halfway down his back.
Other than Tuyet missing her lover’s face, there was only one problem. “You move like a soldier. You’ll need to be careful about that when we’re in public.”
“Are the wards set?”
She nodded. He braced his foot on the couch and hiked up his pants enough to reach the glamour charm tied around his ankle on a strip of black leather. Magic shimmered in the air around him as he removed the charm and put it in his pocket. The sight of his blue eyes brought a lump to her throat made of too many different emotions all at once. It threatened to choke her, blocked her from speaking. Not that she knew what to say. The past kept folding in on the present and tearing at the foundations on which she stood. Nothing felt real anymore.
Hayes settled his hands on her shoulders, the pressure and warmth of his touch so necessary it felt like breaking through water and taking in a lungful of blissful air. He unfastened the clasp of first one necklace, then another, until he’d removed all of the jewelry as well as the glamour charm. The spell fell away, a silk scarf caught by the wind. They faced each other as themselves, and it was exactly what she needed.
“I never wanted to be in a zone again,” she whispered, leaning into him. “I would stay in the underground and take the passage to Vadim’s club if I needed to see him. Even when FreakTown was still open, I couldn’t walk around in here. I just couldn’t.”
He cradled her face in his hands. “When this is over, when we leave, you’ll never have to set foot in a zone again.” He stroked her cheeks with his thumbs, so tender. He’d always been so tender with her, even when she wasn’t with him. “You’ll be free. We’ll be together.”
And while his touch was still tender, a dark blue flame of pure steel lit his eyes. “Nothing will ever take you away from me again.”
She took the comfort he offered and let it soothe the pain inside.
A knock came from the door, sending a rush of panic
through her.
“It’s Vadim. You guys home?”
Hayes replaced his glamour. Tuyet picked up Zinnia’s jewelry and moved out of sight of the door quickly. He let in Vadim then closed and locked the door.
Vadim didn’t waste time. He pulled his phone from a pocket and held it out for them to see. “You two just made the most-wanted list. For terrorism.”
Tuyet grabbed the phone and read the news report. “They’re calling last night a terror action, whatever the hell that means. And they’re blaming us.”
Hayes read over her shoulder. “A witch escaped from another zone and an AWOL military officer who is now wanted for sedition. Fuck you very much for that, Talbot.”
“They’ve set up checkpoints all over the city,” Vadim said. “Every way out is covered. They’re telling the media they’re checking for IDs.” He raised an eyebrow in question.
“They’ll have magic tech,” Tuyet said. “Designed to reveal glamours.”
“Getting you two out just got a lot more complicated.” Vadim took his phone back and swiped the screen several times, then showed it to her again. “Check out the star witness.”
Tuyet blew out a breath, old anger roiling in her stomach like a bad meal.
“Channing, you miserable piece of shit.” Hayes dropped to the couch and removed his glamour. His blue eyes glowed hot. “Now I know he’s reporting to Talbot. He’s gotta be.”
“He caused some of those deaths last night, and now he gets to blame us.” Tuyet joined him on the couch, leaning into him. He draped an arm around her.
Vadim sighed. “Look, I need to go. Lot of cleanup at Sinsuality waiting for me. I just wanted you to know about this as soon as possible.”
“Thank you,” she said.
“Just get some rest, and try to stay out of sight for now. We’ll be in touch later today, tomorrow at the latest.” Vadim left in a hurry, agitated. Like a trapped animal.
Tuyet knew how he felt. Being back inside a zone was making her nerves burn underneath her skin, a phantom itch that couldn’t be soothed. She looked at Hayes and words froze on her lips.
His face was a mask, as much as any glamour, but she could see the truth beneath. He’d spent his entire adult life in service to his country. Now he’d been branded a traitor.
All because of her.
Fear clogged her throat as tears welled. How could he not hate her for this? He had to hate her. And there was nothing to be done for it. Even if she let him march her into police headquarters and turn her in, his life would still be over.
“Sedition,” he said. “I was thinking about that word.”
She couldn’t speak so she nodded in acknowledgment.
“It means to incite rebellion. I haven’t incited anything.” He turned his head slightly to meet her eyes. “If they’re going to charge me with it, seems like I should do it. What do you think? How about we do a little inciting on our way out of the city?” He winked at her. He winked.
Tuyet hadn’t even realized she was holding her breath until that moment. “I could be up for that.” Relief untied all the knots of fear that had sprung up so suddenly.
“A little inciting. Maybe a little payback.” Hayes drew her closer, snuggling her next to his side. “I can’t do anything about Talbot but maybe we can do something about Channing. He doesn’t get to get away with this.”
“We’ll figure something out.” She rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The temperature had finally cooled into something approaching livable as the sun set. Hayes and Tuyet stayed deep in conversation as they walked across the zone to Sinsuality, Vadim’s former club. Better to be seen involved with each other so as to hopefully dissuade people from approaching Mekhi and Zinnia. Once inside Vadim’s apartment, behind locked doors and powerful wards, they pocketed their glamours. Vadim and Lizzie had prepared dinner, their infant daughter asleep in another room. Nate and Calla brought a hoarded bottle of wine.
After dinner, the six gathered in the small living room, some on the sofa, some seated on the floor. All drank their wine slowly, knowing they had to make it last.
Vadim held up his tablet, an email on the screen. “It’s official. Councilwoman Sheila Copeland has formally ended her association with the protest movement. Her statement is a lot of drivel about public safety.”
“They got to her,” Lizzie said.
“She advocates the discontinuation of the weekly march and all related activities,” Vadim read from the tablet. “Who the hell wrote that? Your boy Duane?”
“It sounds more like something she was forced to release.” Lizzie addressed Nate. “Have you heard from your department contact?”
A shadow crossed the former cop’s face. “Twenty-nine dead. Over two hundred injured. Of course that’s just Normals.”
“Thirty-six of ours injured.” Vadim placed the tablet on a shelf and joined Lizzie on the sofa. “We got off so fucking lucky.”
“And it only cost us the arcade,” Calla said. “Are they going to let you reopen?”
Vadim shook his head. “I can’t afford to pay off the DMS.”
The four permanent residents of FreakTown spoke at length about the problems and issues the zone was dealing with. Tuyet listened but none of it made an impact. Ideas that had been coalescing in her mind since the night of the riot were finally taking firm shape. They weren’t perfectly solid yet, but close. She was aware of Hayes asking questions of Nate and Lizzie, and Calla joining that conversation too.
Mostly she just stared at her cell phone.
Tunnel flooding. Is there quicker way out?
Ppl drowning. Can you help?
Water too high.
Vadim leaned forward in a brief lull and said, “What is it, Tuyet?”
Can you help?
She put her phone away and rubbed her palms on denim-covered thighs. “I go back and forth between thinking Paula Miller’s idea of telling the story of New Corinth was the dumbest, most idealistic nonsense I’ve ever heard, and thinking it’s maybe our best chance at making people pay attention to what’s happening here.”
Vadim said, “Why can’t you think it’s both? I do.”
Tuyet continued. “There’s been no news coverage of what really happened Friday night, and there won’t be. The city gets away with killing people. Channing gets away with killing people. Sheila Copeland is probably scared the violence will only get worse. And she’s right, because it will. As long as the killers keep getting away with it, they’ll keep right on killing.”
Hayes said, “Sounds like you’ve got a plan.”
“No,” she said. “Not yet. I know what I want to do, but I haven’t figured out how.”
“You want to get her video of Friday night out.” Hayes wasn’t asking, and that made her wonder what he’d been thinking during all of the quiet moments between them since the riot.
“I don’t want to just get it out there, I want to cram it down people’s throats. As far and as wide as we can get it seen.”
“Can Silver Wheels help?”
“Yes,” she said. “And he has been getting her older videos out on the darknet. But the problem is one of numbers. Not enough people are seeing those videos, which means the impact is negligible. We need something big.”
Hayes rubbed his chin, his eyes squinched in the way they did when thinking hard.
“You look like you’re having an idea,” Tuyet said. “Don’t hurt yourself.”
Calla snickered.
Hayes ignored them. “TMG. They’re the biggest network in the country. We get the footage aired there, it’ll be seen by millions.”
“Especially if you add in all the news alerts that go to phones and tablets,” Lizzie said.
Hayes said,
“No witch Ranger was ever better at crafting viruses than you, Snow. A replicating virus that spreads through a contacts list, on top of hacking TMG. It would be everywhere.”
Tuyet considered it and found only one drawback. “A virus that works as fast as we’d need it, that can fight off attempts to contain it, would require a lot of power. I could craft the spells, sure, and launch them. It’s keeping it going in the face of TMG and anyone else trying to shut it all down that would be a problem. That I can’t do alone.”
“Who said anything about you doing this alone? You’ve got two trancehackers right here that’ll help,” Calla said. “I’d bet Silver Wheels would too. I know Jason would.”
“Yeah, but the type of security we’re talking about here, it’s not like finding a back way into a bank site and strolling out with a little money that’s covered by their insurance. We want this to keep going, not be a quick in and out.”
Nate said, “So that’s where the power issue comes in?”
“Yes,” Tuyet said. “The spells themselves would be pretty simple.”
“Then work the simplest problem first and go from there. First we figure out how many types of spells it would take. Different operating systems need spells with slight variations, right? So, if you want news alerts on phones and tablets, you’ll have to tailor different spells for different systems.” Nate shrugged at the bemused stares. “What? I pay attention.”
Tuyet couldn’t stay seated any longer. She paced the small section of floor between the furniture and the bookshelves. The familiar crank of adrenaline was already humming in her blood. The bare beginnings of a plan shouldn’t have been enough to get excited about, but it fueled her need to do something. She wanted to hurt the people who’d made the decision to allow police to fire on protesters. The people who’d pushed for the ordinance in the first place. The people who kept the Magic Laws in place. She wanted to hurt them and shame them and take away what they valued most—their power.
The Magic Born underground had been chipping away at the status quo, bit by bit, for years. Normal sympathizers too, people who wanted to keep their children. Who had the basic human decency and empathy to want anyone, everyone to keep their children. But all their combined efforts were never enough because they were piecemeal and scattered, too localized to make a real difference.