by K. Gorman
She had almost forgotten about that.
Okay, so maybe she did attract trouble. She sighed, dropping her head down so that her lips touched the rim of her mug. The motion pulled the stitches tight in her arm, sending a twinge of pain through her numbed mind.
Her rest break was short-lived. A shadow fell over them as Roger clunked a mug down in front of Jo. Robin scooted over to give his chair room. He leaned over, put his elbows on the table, and folded his fingers in front of him.
“So, tell me about the robbers,” he said.
His voice sounded almost gleeful.
“Are you going to go after them?” Robin asked.
“If I have time. We already have one, so it won’t be hard to find the rest.”
His gaze drifted to the other table, where Carson lay in a semi-conscious lump. Blood had wicked through the bandage on his leg, creating a red stain on the white. They’d cut away part of his pants to get to the wound. Traces of antiseptic and iodine blotted at the skin around the bandage.
As far as she had seen, they hadn’t given him any painkillers, which would explain his unresponsiveness now.
Jo glanced over, sizing him up. “He talking yet?”
“In a minute,” Roger said. His gaze slid from Robin to fix on Mieshka. “As I understand it, there was a significant amount of spontaneous fire during the… attempted robbery.”
“Actually,” Mieshka said. “That’s not my fault, either.”
He fixed her with a stare. One eyebrow slid up incrementally.
“There’s another Fire Elemental in town.” She was sure of it. The explosion hadn’t been subtle, and it hadn’t been hers.
And she’d only been able to calm the fire after he’d left.
“What?” Jo raised her head and looked back at her, eyes narrowed.
“I saw it, too.” Robin glanced over at her. “That other guy, right? Darker skin? I saw what he did. Meese is right.”
Jo rested her head back on her wrists and closed her eyes. “Well, that complicates things.”
“No,” Roger said with a small smile. “It simplifies things. If it’s true.”
He looked back at the captured robber. The man hadn’t moved since they’d put him there, but Mieshka noticed that his eyes were open. He watched the conversation through slitted lids, awake and alert.
“There’s one way to find out.” Jo’s chair scraped on the tiles as she stood, the sound loud in the quiet room. The man didn’t react as she stopped at his side and leaned casually against the table.
Mieshka’s stomach turned.
Oh, God, she was going to torture him.
She braced her hand against the table, knuckles whitening with tension.
“Say,” Jo said to the man. “Tell me about your friend.”
She paused, her face a stone mask as his slitted eyes watched her. A muscle tightened in his jaw, and he remained silent.
Jo flicked a finger against his bandage.
That got a reaction.
His whole body jerked. The sound that came from him was half scream, half unintelligible swear. He curled away from her, going fetal.
Deann paused in the kitchen, a tray of uncooked pastries balanced in one hand. She looked over, her form warped through the glass display.
Then, she turned back to her duties.
Mieshka’s jaw tightened. She’d known the Underground was rough, but was everyone okay with torture? And—Christ—Deann had pulled a fucking rifle on some robbers. She looked across the table, where Robin sat rigid, her hands gripping the coffee mug in a stranglehold, her eyes fixed on Jo.
She had to do something.
The mercenary curled her lip. “Your friend.”
“Bitch!” The man gritted his teeth together. The muscles in his neck tightened with pain, the skin blanching. His breath came quick and shallow.
He met Jo’s gaze, eyes full of hate.
Then, he spat at her face.
Mieshka grabbed her crutch and levered herself out of the chair, wincing at the effort. Her shoes squeaked on the floor as she hobbled over.
It took a while to kneel down, but she put her head at the man’s eye level. They were blue, maybe a bit grayer than Robin’s. And, also like Robin’s, they were heavily bloodshot.
They snapped to her as she knelt, and she thought his skin might have paled a bit more.
Maybe he’d figured out she was an Elemental.
“Look,” she said when she had his attention. “I’ll give you some of my painkillers if you tell us where to find him. I’ve got the good stuff, Chromatix-laced oxycodone. Alternatively—” Here, she turned her gaze to Roger. “—I happen to know that he carries a jar of acid on him at all times, and also would like to know where your friend is. He isn’t as nice as me.”
Speech finished, she sat back and gauged his reaction.
At first, it looked like he had something sour in his mouth. He fixed her with a stare, and Mieshka met his eyes, unblinking. Unflinching. The restaurant around them fell silent, everyone watching. A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead, slid onto his cheek.
Then, he spoke.
“Okay,” he said.
Chapter 29
For the third time since they’d left the shop, Ketan stopped Leloni from going back. He grabbed the shoulder of her jacket, studs poking into his hands as he hauled her back and set her in front of him, blocking the way with his body.
She swung around, arms flailing like a drunk. “We have to go back!”
“We can’t,” he said.
Carson’s blood still coated her hands and smeared her face. Parts of her jacket had a sticky, matte finish to it. Her fingers, now smudged with dirt, flexed into talons.
She shook like a leaf.
He took a slow, stabilizing breath. “We can’t go back. We—”
“We can’t leave him!” Her voice rose to a shriek, face twisted as she snarled at him. Aggression shook her body.
“Yes. We can.”
“They’ll kill him!”
“No, we would. Can you treat a bullet wound? Even if we could get him out and rescue him from under the noses of three people—including the other Fire Elemental—he’d bleed out before we got him back home.”
And that was another thing. The Fire Elemental. Christ, he’d fucked up. It was probably a good thing she was wounded. Couldn’t come after them that way. If they went back, he’d have to answer to her.
Fuck. This was not how he’d wanted to meet Meese.
He paused. Adrenaline still surged in his blood, making his fingers shaky, his heart rate quick and fluttery in his ears. He was starting to come down from the high. He took a deep breath.
Leloni, too, seemed to calm down. She put her back to the alley’s wall, the spikes on her jacket scraping against the bricks as she slid to the ground. Her hands went to her face, but paused half a foot out.
By her wide-eyed stare, he guessed she’d noticed the blood.
He walked over to her and squatted down to her level.
“It’ll be okay. Carson will survive. It’s just a leg wound. Lots of muscle.” And several major arteries, but no need to tell her that.
Leloni didn’t reply. Her bottom lip quivered.
He tried again. “No, really. They’ll take him to a doctor. It’s better for him.”
She bowed her head back, resting it against the brick. The grim yellow lighting cast her blue eyes with a tint of amber. It always felt like night down here. Not just with the darkness, but the whole ambiance. Streets weren’t this quiet during the day. No birds chirped and flew, no squirrels or chipmunks or raccoons scurried past. He’d seen the occasional rat and insect, but even they were few and far between.
Leloni closed her eyes. When she opened them, she took a big, racking breath.
“Why couldn’t you guys have just gotten along?”
He quirked a brow. Was that what all this had been about? Getting along?
When he spoke, he kept his words slow and deliber
ate. “Carson robbed a store. At knife point.”
“You’ve robbed things before,” she accused.
“I’ve looted,” he corrected her.
She threw her hands up, suddenly angry. “What’s the difference?”
“There’s a big difference.”
“I don’t see a big difference. That’s still taking something that is not yours.”
“There’s a difference, and you know it. Just like you knew we couldn’t get along.” His lip curled. “You’re the one that brought me along. You knew what his plan was. You knew I wouldn’t go with it.”
She shoved him away. “Fuck off.”
Her boots scraped against the concrete as she stood. A second later, they were walking down the alley again.
At least, she was going the right way this time.
Leloni didn’t speak for a while. Only the sounds of her footsteps—determined, pissed-off footsteps—kept him company. He watched her back, the thin movements of her shoulders as she walked.
When they went down a set of stairs, the white soles of her boots caught the light like fluttering birds.
“I did,” she finally said. Her breath hitched, but only for a second.
He said nothing. He walked behind her, silent, waiting.
“I didn’t think he’d get shot.”
“He’s the one who brought a knife to a robbery,” he said. “You can’t blame them for his actions.”
“No.” She slipped down another set of stairs, her breath full and even, steps light and sure. “But I can blame you.”
They wound their way back through the underground city, slipping through back alleys and side streets, even walking straight through buildings in some cases. One couldn’t really go in a straight line down here. ‘As the crow flies’ only applied to those privileged with a sky. Below, you had to work with what you got.
And they got a maze.
Eventually, they found their way back to the apartment.
He pulled her up short. For once, she didn’t argue as he scanned the street.
The streetlight burned farther up the block, its light shining down on the broken and mended road, highlighting the patchwork of repairs like ribbons of oil. Discarded fliers, ripped-up newspapers, and random bits of litter piled up against the curb, put there by a mixture of cleaning crew, draft, and transit.
The street was empty. Silent.
So quiet, he could hear the hum of the light.
At least, the electricity was still on. Flashlights would just make them conspicuous.
After a full minute, he and Leloni darted across the street and up to the apartment.
It still smelled like cooking inside. The lights were off. He could only make out the edges of things—it was weak light that filtered in through the cracks in the walls. He started up the stairs, keeping to the edges to avoid creaking the wood.
Behind him, Leloni rolled her eyes.
“There’s no one here.” She stomped past him, flicking on the lights. “It’s too soon. Besides, how would they find us? Carson won’t talk.”
“I wouldn’t trust him with a match.”
But she had a point. There was no way the Underground’s security patrol could’ve followed them that quickly. They’d taken the direct route.
Rain had left a pot next to the stove, its lid tilted across its top to keep the heat in. A spurt of steam escaped through the side.
His mouth watered.
If all his cooking smelled that good, Ketan would definitely have him for a roommate. And make sure the kitchen was fixed up.
He grabbed his bag from the couch and hefted it over his shoulder.
It took Leloni a few more minutes to pack her belongings. She and Carson had shared the other room together—for which he’d been grateful. There were some things he just did not need to see. When she reappeared, a ratty backpack hung from her shoulder. Clothes poked out from where the zipper had been safety-pinned in place.
“Ready?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Good. Let’s go.”
*
“Where are we going?”
Leloni lagged behind him, and he could tell that the crash from her earlier adrenaline rush was catching up to her. Her reactions were delayed whenever he asked her something or told her to stop. But her eyes were alert, bright, and wary when they looked at him, despite the shadows around them.
“I found a new place,” he said. “It’s hidden.”
She didn’t say anything for a minute. He heard her shoes scuff against the sidewalk. The alleyways were rough where he’d led them. Truth be told, he didn’t really know where he was going. He’d begun to get an instinctive feel for the Underground, after wandering about it for the last day or so, but it was a sketchy feeling. His internal compass was not running at one hundred percent.
It took a few tries to get the right alley.
Leloni waited as he shouldered the door open. The wood grated against the concrete. He thought it might’ve been a bit looser since that other Elemental had ripped it open, as if the door had warped.
Fire flared in his hand, lighting up the stairs. He gestured for her to go first.
Her eyebrow rose as she passed him. “This is your new place?”
He didn’t answer, only followed her up. The fire danced, making their shadows stutter along the walls.
It was kind of funny. He’d been there for about ten minutes total, and the place already felt like home. Tension dropped from his shoulders as he climbed the last stair and the apartment’s high, finished ceilings came into view.
Leloni peeked into the kitchen area, then moved over to the living room. The remnants of a couch were pushed against the wall, and she settled herself down on its one remaining cushion.
“Nice place,” she said.
He didn’t even hear any sarcasm in her voice. Just exhaustion.
He thumped his backpack down, ignoring the dust on the table. “It’ll do, once I get the electric and stuff going.”
“Yeah. You’re too good to stick with us.”
He glanced over at her. Despite the sarcastic tone, the stern, serious expression on her face belied the remark. He and Carson were not going to get along, and she must’ve realized that some time ago.
He tossed a flashlight at her. She nearly fumbled it. His fire floated in the air at his side, casting a warm, flickering glow over the room. It made the place look primal.
He supposed it was. They were, after all, hiding out in the modern equivalent of a cave. He could see where the drywall had crumbled in the corner, and a crack at the top of the wall where the building had shifted. One of the baseboards had blown loose at some point during its abandonment. An ornate lampshade lay on its side by a boarded-up window. In the ceiling, two naked bulbs hung below a dormant fan.
I should go. Even as he stood there, watching her, he knew he couldn’t stay. He was jittery already. He had to move, to take stock of the damage. He’d find Devin and explain things, or...
He thought back to Meese. He was pretty sure that had been her in the café. What a great way to make a first impression. And that look she’d given him—half fear, half incredulity?
She definitely hadn’t expected him to throw fire.
He rummaged some more in his backpack and threw the last of his snack food to Leloni. It landed in her lap, and she glanced up.
“Eat it,” he said.
“What about you?”
“I’ll find something.”
She studied him. Her eyes widened with realization. “Where you going?”
“To feel things out. You should stay here.”
Her lip twisted. “What, afraid I’ll rain on your macho parade?”
“It’s easier to move alone,” he stated. “Besides, you look like you could use some sleep.”
“You’re not exactly gunning for the beauty pageant, either, Ketan. Why not wait this out?”
He was already on his way down the stairs. “Because I have to
fix this.”
He stepped out the door, shouldered it shut, and left.
Time to make things right.
Chapter 30
“Are you sure you want to come?”
Mieshka suspected Roger was laughing at her. His tone was unusually light as he spoke, and a small, rarely heard accent rounded the edges of his words. His eyes glittered with amusement when he looked at her.
Frankly, she didn’t blame him. There was a lot to be amused about regarding her right now. She hobbled down the alleyway behind him, burnt crutch pocking the ground at her side and wrenching her shoulder with each step. Her wounds burned with an itchy, throbbing fire that had nothing to do with her Element.
But Dr. Deforet’s pills had kicked in, rendering the actual pain into a detached, abstract concept. Her limbs didn’t quite work, but she managed to keep up a half-paced shamble.
And she was determined to find the other Fire Elemental.
“Yes,” she said, attempting to pick up her pace. “I’m coming.”
“We wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Robin added, though her monotone somewhat detracted from the statement.
She trailed a few steps behind her, carrying Mieshka’s backpack. Her face had a bored look on it, and she hadn’t said much since the fight—hell, she hadn’t said much since the incident at her apartment—but Mieshka thought her quietness stemmed more from exhaustion than emotional trauma.
God, she hoped it was exhaustion. She didn’t want to think just how much she’d fucked up Robin’s family just by being there. And here she was, dragging her friend down into the Underground, where they’d managed to witness what had to be the only armed robbery the place had seen in a year.
Roger moved ahead of them, silent in the alleyway. Unlike them, his feet seemed to miss all of the errant garbage bags, newspapers, and loose bricks. Like he’d been down the alley a billion times and could walk it blindfolded.
Which might have been true. He certainly spent a lot of time in the Underground.
Come to think of it, she’d never seen him aboveground—except for the two times he’d been in Aiden’s office, and the time she'd seen him in the Cyprios raid.