by Jessica Roe
“She's not screaming now.”
“And the bodies?”
“No one will ever find them.”
“Good girl.” He took her hand in his and squeezed her fingers gently. His hand was warm and his skin soft, even after so many years of living. She glanced over at him. His suit jacket was unbuttoned and he was without a tie; it was the most casual she could ever remember seeing him.
“I'm proud of you.” He was speaking the truth, she knew that. She could see it shining in his eyes. It was what she'd been longing for from him from the very beginning, but it felt shallow, worthless. She wasn't sure she wanted his pride when it was for something so evil.
He raised a curious eyebrow and brought her hand up before his face to inspect it. “A little immature, Gable,” he commented, looking at the ring she wore on her pinky finger. It was plastic, with a small, sparkling orange flower.
She pulled her hand back defensively. “I like it.”
“Just don't wear it to work. It doesn't exactly send the right message.” To who? The corpses?
He cocked his head, her fashion choices dismissed. “You know, I could have had somebody else make the kill. Zebb, or Uang, or any other number of employees adequate for the task.”
“I know.” She turned back to the window.
“I needed to test where your loyalties truly lay. I was beginning to worry, you see. So I set you this task and put you in a room with that Guardian boy.” He said it all like he was explaining a simple maths problem to her. “You passed the test.”
“Good.”
“Yes. Good.”
They watched the lights for a while longer. “Why did you need the Telepath killed?” She deserved to know that much, at least.
“She knew too much, and knowledge is a very dangerous weapon, little Gable. She had to go.”
The Telepath had been with the Guardians for days. Whatever knowledge she'd gained had certainly been passed on to Nicky and his chipper little gang, that much was for sure. Ordering her death had been a pointless act. A lesson for Gable, and nothing more.
Pablo glanced behind them to the coffee table. A dagger lay there, stained with blood. “Is that the dagger you used on her?”
“Yuh huh.”
“Nice. Very nice indeed.” He stepped over and picked the weapon up delicately, touching the jagged blade to the tip of his tongue. “Yes,” he acknowledged. “Yes. How pleasing. Did you know that the blood of a Telepath tastes different to that of other Psychics? Spicier, somehow.”
She didn't want to know how he knew that. She really, really didn't. “What now?”
“Now? Ah, you mean our next step. Well, now we get my weapon back. Oh, and I suppose we'd better destroy the New York City Guardian Division while we're at it,” he added dismissively. “It will likely start a larger war, I imagine, with the rest of the Guardians, but perhaps it's time their meddling came to an end. And with my weapon, we'll be in the position to do just that.”
He put the dagger down and walked back to where Gable stood. Tenderly, he tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear and cupped her cheek. “Such a pretty face. You shouldn't hide it behind your locks. Not when I have big plans for you.”
She swallowed around the thick lump in her throat. “What kind of plans?” God, did she really want to hear them?
“Another hit, I think. You proved so efficient at it tonight.”
He wanted her to kill again. Of course it was that.
A CALM, DETERMINED kind of numbness had infected Nicky's mind, spreading itself out wide and thick like gloopy glue. Whether the numbness came from losing Heidi and Becky, or from finally realizing what a true monster Gable had become, he wasn't sure. To be honest, he didn't particularly care. He needed the numbness more than he needed the other things—guilt, horror, fear.
Guilt.
He'd been wrong about many things in his life. So many things. But his actions had never caused anybody's death before. And refusing to bring down Gable when he'd had the chance...yeah, that was his fault.
But he finally knew what needed to be done. Gable had to be stopped, one way or another, and he was ready and willing to do whatever it took to make sure she would never hurt anyone else ever again. If that meant getting blood on his hands—her blood—then so be it. He wouldn't hesitate, just like she hadn't hesitated to cut down an innocent mother and child.
And what was more, Nicky had the feeling that getting rid of Gable would be the key to Pablo's ultimate destruction. Or it would bring them one step closer, at least, and New York City would finally be safe from his poisoning influence.
Charles was putting on a brave face. After reporting the incident to the Guardian Elders and getting their reassurance that they would clean up any loose ends, he tried to go about his business as usual.
But Charles had lost his spark. He was a living ghost; a shadow with a sad face. The storm in his eyes had died and all that was left was the pitter patter of gloomy raindrops. He was a hollow shell of a man.
Charles' father had been a Guardian and Charles had been training ever since he'd been old enough to hold a toy sword, and Nicky didn't doubt that he'd lost many people over the years in the line of duty, but Heidi was surely one of the most significant. Her death had hurt him in ways that Nicky couldn't even imagine. They'd been friends for years, and it had been obvious to anyone who cared to watch closely that Charles had loved her that entire time.
Charles blamed himself for her death. Nicky blamed himself. Even Walker and Zay were shouldering a heavy amount of guilt.
“You get it now, right?” Walker randomly asked Nicky. They were busying themselves by cleaning the weapons in the storage room. It seemed that everybody was trying to find something to do, something to occupy themselves so they didn't have time to think.
“Get what?” he replied distractedly as he polished the blade of a sword. They didn't use swords much—kind of an obvious weapon to carry around—but they practised with them a lot. Better to be safe than sorry, Charles often said. Nicky didn't get exactly what was so safe about swords, but whatever.
“What the worst part of our job is? It isn't the risk to ourselves, but the people we care about.” She didn't look at him while she spoke, and he wondered if that was why she was so cold. Perhaps she just didn't want to risk getting close to people, only to lose them. Maybe she had the right idea.
She had recovered perfectly from her fight with Gable—even better than Nicky. Her bullet wound had mysteriously vanished and he suspected that she'd had a little help with it from Fabian the Healer at Yarmac & Bogely's. That was technically forbidden until Fabian turned eighteen, but Nicky doubted anyone was going to call Walker on it.
What had surprised Nicky more than anything was the way that Walker hadn't used what had happened against him. He'd expected all manner of I told you so's about Gable, but there had been nothing at all. She'd barely even mentioned Gable's name.
Seemed the woman had feelings after all.
IT WASN'T OFTEN that the entire team sat together in the sitting area to watch movies, but there had been a feeling of solidarity in the air since the incident; a need to stick together, no matter how sombre the atmosphere.
Nicky was sat between Charles and Kain on one sofa, Zay, Queenie and Walker on the other. It was a scary movie, something about chainsaws and people with messed up faces, and Nicky was glad to get lost in it for a while.
“Oh!” Queenie called out. Her head had been resting against Zay's shoulder—something that Kain had been trying trying very hard not to notice if his clenched fists were anything to go by—but she sat up suddenly and the bowl of popcorn in her hands dropped to the floor with a clatter. Her spine straightened almost unnaturally so and her eyes widened, staring straight ahead into nothing. Her whole body trembled like she was vibrating, and Nicky could see her pupils dilate even from where he sat.
“Queenie!” Nicky moved to help her, scared that she was having some kind of seizure, but Charles gripped his
arm to stop him.
“She's having a vision,” he explained gently. “Let her be. She'll be fine.”
Like nothing unusual was happening—which for those who were used to witnessing Queenie's visions he supposed it wasn't—the rest of the team went back to watching the movie. Zay brushed the popcorn back into the bowl and put it to one side before sitting back down next to Queenie, absent mindedly stroking her hair. Kain made a quiet noise in his throat but said nothing.
Nicky, who had never seen Queenie while she was having a vision before, couldn't stop staring.
Finally, after almost two minutes, her pupils went back to normal and her body relaxed. She all but fell into Zay's arms.
“I've got you,” he murmured into her hair, rubbing her back. “Big or small vision?”
She looked conflicted as she wrung her hands nervously. “I, uhm...I don't...I can't really say right now.” She pulled away and stood up, glancing at Charles, who had paused the movie. “No, I definitely can't say right now. Charles, I'm going to need to take a few days out to check on some things before I tell you about my vision. I think it's going to be really important, but I need to make a trip first to find out.”
Charles looked just as taken back and confused as Nicky felt, but he nodded. He trusted Queenie implicitly. “Of course.”
Queenie levelled her gaze onto Kain, who blushed. “And I need you to come with me.”
QUEENIE AND KAIN had packed a suitcase and left by the time night had fallen. Not a word about their destination had left their lips, no matter how many times a curious Nicky had begged. Kain had looked positively delighted to be spending time away with Queenie—not that she'd noticed. She'd promised that they would be back within a few days, but Nicky couldn't help but worry. Zay would be able to maintain the computer system while Kain was away, and he guessed the science stuff could wait, but Queenie was the glue that held their messy little family together. Things were bound to fall apart in her absence.
Meanwhile, the rest of the team tried to come up with some semblance of a plan for the Box of Creation. Nicky wanted to destroy it once and for all, make damn sure that Pablo could never get his evil hands on it to create his weird demonic army. But Charles, thinking of every angle as ever, pointed out that they actually had no idea how to destroy it, and doing it wrong could cause a weapon of such power to have dangerous, possibly world wide consequences. And with their only scientist out of the country—possibly—they had no idea where to begin researching.
In the end, they decided that the only sensible thing they could do would be to hand the box over to the Guardian Elders. Charles looked relieved to be handing off such a large responsibility to someone else, and Nicky didn't blame him.
It would be a risk, travelling with the box, and they could face an attack at any time. However, they all knew it needed to be done.
The Guardian Elders, Nicky had learnt, met once every four months, and always in a different location. Partly because the Elders were comprised of a small group of people from all over the world, and also for their own safety. Their next meeting was to take place in Tadcaster, England. Nicky had never heard of the town, but he totally wanted to go. He'd always wanted to visit jolly old England and eat scones and drink tea with his little pinky finger sticking out. Okay, he didn't actually want to do any of that stuff, but visiting England would rock, and after hours and hours and hours and hours of listening to Nicky plead, Charles finally caved and booked two flights out instead of one.
“Not because you will be of any use on this particular mission,” Charles told him. “But just because I'd rather like you to shut up.”
WALKER HAD BEEN abducted by aliens. Or someone had slipped in during the night and given her a personality transplant.
Because, and it was the weirdest thing that had happened to Nicky since he'd joined the Guardian team, she seemed to have softened towards him the teeniest tiniest little bit since the incident. They weren't best buddies, or even kind of buddies, but she'd stopped telling him to shove his head in the oven every time he walked in to a room, and Nicky called that progress. It was like she was a gigantic ice sculpture, and a small trickle of water had melted off.
When he'd thought the guilt over his part in Heidi and Becky's deaths would overwhelm him, she had spoken softly to him of her own guilt.
“I was twenty two,” she told him in a quiet voice. “Only three years ago, can you believe it? I was so young to have been made a Team Leader, but I was already one of the best Trackers in the world.” She sighed and picked at her fingernail, remembering better times. “There were seven others in my team, all older than me. I don't think they were pleased at having to listen to my instructions, but they were professional about it. We were in Uganda at the time. Got word of a gathering of Dark Ones. When we found them, there were way more of them than we'd anticipated. And the...the Fire Elemental. My team wanted to wait for back up, but I overruled them. I was cocky. Three of my team mates died, and now here I am.”
Her confession caused a weird sort of bonding between the two of them. They understood each other better, especially with his new determination to bring down Gable.
IT HAD BEEN four days since Queenie and Kain had left for their secret mission—and headquarters hadn't fallen to pieces without them. Sure, it was a little messier, but nothing was broken, and that was the thing to concentrate on, Nicky decided. Neither of them had called, but Charles had been receiving regular texts from Kain to show that they were okay.
Walker and Nicky, looking for something to do (or perhaps just looking for trouble), were patrolling the streets. It was something the Keepers did when there hadn't been trouble in a while, or if they were just plain bored. They walked the streets, making sure that everything was peaceful and that there was no Outcast trouble. Over half the time they ended up just walking for hours with no drama at all.
The two of them, as they had been of late, were getting along perfectly fine. They'd even managed to hold a conversation for over an hour, mainly about meaningless crap, but it was the longest they had ever gone without bickering.
Nicky heaved a sigh. Night had fallen and all they had achieved after hours of walking was aching feet. “You know Yagoona's been following us for the past twenty five minutes, right?” he mentioned casually.
Walker nodded. “I know. She's been trailing us ever since we passed fourth and seventh. I was just really hoping she'd take her crap and go away. I'd rather deal with anything else than her right now.”
“Yeah. But I guess we should probably stop and see what she wants.”
She rolled her eyes, but stopped anyway. Yagoona hurried to them, hobbling and clutching a ratty purse to her chest. She was the very definition of sweet old lady; appearances could be damned deceptive.
“What do you want?” Walker demanded, folding her arms across her chest.
“I got some information. I'll sell it to ya for a good price.” Up close, she smelt like spices and chemicals and old lady perfume. And kind of like pee.
“Like hell, you double crossing old witch,” Nicky answered derisively. There was something to be said when he could turn his nose up at someone.
“Hold up,” Walker said, although it looked like it pained her to do it. She pulled Nicky to one side and lowered her voice so that Yagoona couldn't hear her. “We might as well just pay her. Every now and then she actually pulls through with some valid information and it's usually worth our time.”
“What if it's a trap?”
She shrugged. “Then I guess you'll have to put your training to use.”
“Fine.” He heaved a long suffering sigh. “But if she trades us for magic beans, I'm blaming you.”
“Whatever.” Walker turned back to Yagoona. “How much do you want?”
“A thousand bucks, and no less,” Yagoona declared smugly.
“You'll get five hundred and you'll be grateful for it,” Walker insisted sternly. There was no arguing with her when she was like that, it was her
'take no prisoners, show no mercy' attitude. “You can have two fifty now, and the other two fifty if the information turns out to be legit.”
Yagoona agreed to the terms, though not without a sour face, and accompanied them to the cash point where Walker withdrew the money out of Guardian funds. She made Yagoona sign something, and explained to Nicky that it was a receipt. “The Bees want us to show proof of all our expenditures,” she told him.
The Bees were what the Guardians had affectionately termed those who pushed papers. Although the Elders ran things, the Bees were the people who really kept the whole Guardian organization together. They dealt with finance, used their influence to bend the law for the Guardians when they needed it, researched missions for the Trackers and much more. They buzzed around in their little offices all over the world, making sure the Guardians were kept a secret.
Walker handed the money over to Yagoona and they strolled to a nearby park. “Now talk, Witch.”
Yagoona sat herself down on a bench and patted the seat next to her, but both Walker and Nicky remained standing.“I got a fella,” she told them, and Nicky thought that was all kinds off gross. “His name's Melvin; he runs the elevator at Pablo's hotel. You know, the one he holes up at? The Serpent. Anyway, people talk around Melvin, like he's invisible or somethin'. He's overheard some mighty interesting stuff. Course, he'd be mad as old piss if he knew I was talking to you about it; he could lose his job. Or his life, I'd wager. Pablo ain't all that forgiving to those who do 'im wrong. But a dollar's a dollar. You know?”
That you're an evil, backstabbing old hag? Yeah, Nicky knew. Wisely, he chose to keep his mouth shut.
“Get to the point,” he ordered.
“Well, Melvin heard that thug, Zebb, talking at the mute one. Apparently there's this scientist here in the city that Pablo wants offed 'cause he knows how to destroy some box. This mean anything to you?”
Walker and Nicky shared a wide eyed glance. The Box of Creation, that was what Yagoona had to be talking about. And there was a scientist who could destroy it! If that was true, then they could end Pablo's mutant army before he'd even begun it. They wouldn't have to risk travelling with the box and getting ambushed along the way. “Anything else?” questioned Walker, pulling her eyes away from Nicky.