Jacob and I followed Finch toward the abandoned building, ducking through an iron door that was hanging half off its hinges. Inside, everything was pitch black. Putting up my palms, I forged a small ball of fire that could easily be mistaken for a match or a lighter, if anyone was secretly watching. Using its glow to see by, we crossed an empty concrete hall toward a narrow stairwell on the opposite side of the debris-ridden room. Everything was covered in graffiti tags, and the dank scent of pee and decay lingered around every corner as we mounted the stairs.
Finch stayed ahead of us, climbing the stairwell until he reached the very top floor. A long landing stretched out in front of us, and Finch headed straight for the nearest doorway. It was one of the only places in this building that still had a door, with the number “1” painted on the wall beside it. Finch knocked, the sound echoing through the empty structure like a gunshot, setting my teeth on edge. Beside me, I could feel Jacob shivering, his emotions slipping into terror.
A moment later, the door creaked open and something emerged from the shadows beyond. There was no face, no figure, only an object being pushed out into the hall. My heart leapt into my throat as a glint of dark metal reflected the glow of my fire. Two dark hollows of a double-barreled shotgun stared me right in the face.
Five
Harley
“Guess you never did learn any manners, huh?” Finch said dryly. “That any way to welcome an old friend?”
“Depends on the friend,” a voice rasped out of the darkness. I tried to make out her face, but it was more or less impossible. Kenzie could see us, but we couldn’t see her.
“I’d call the shotgun overkill.”
The voice chuckled quietly. “I’d call it the right amount of kill, if this thing goes off in your face.”
“Not thinking of squeezing the trigger on your old pal Finch, are you? I’ve gotten used to this mug, and I don’t fancy having it rearranged.”
“You haven’t changed, have you?”
A figure stepped into the faint light cast by a blinking emergency bulb down the hall. Kenzie was younger than she sounded, with mocha-brown hair that had been scooped into a messy bun. Countless piercings sparkled in the gloom, from her earlobe to the top of her cartilage. She wore a cropped hoodie with an expletive emblazoned across the chest, a small tattoo of a pawprint appearing just above the waistline of her black jeans, which had so many rips in them that there was almost more skin than denim.
Finch smiled. “You sound disappointed.”
“Not really. Leopards don’t change their spots, and neither do assholes who promise to help a girl out and then leave without a word. Shame on me, right?” She flashed him a menacing grin. “Who’re your buddies, anyway?” Kenzie eyed Jacob closely, the barrel of her shotgun swinging between my head and Finch’s. It wasn’t exactly the hopeful encounter I’d been expecting.
“How about you put down the shotgun, then we talk?” Finch replied.
“How about you make your intros before I really need to scratch this itchy trigger finger? It’s driving me crazy, man.” She held his gaze, with the shotgun pointed at me. I doubted she’d miss.
Finch put up his hands. “This is my half-sister, Harley. And this is Jacob, who’s… well, it’s a long story. He’s pretty much Harley’s family, which makes him almost my family.”
Kenzie looked me dead in the eyes, which was preferable to a shotgun barrel. “You never said you had a sister. How do I know she’s who you say she is? Trusting you has always been a game of chance with pretty low odds, Finch.”
“I’m definitely his half-sister. Believe me, it’s not something I’d lie about, no matter how much I might want to sometimes,” I replied, trying to win her over. “His dad is my dad. Different moms. Which, if you know who Finch’s mom is, is a huge relief for me. Even having that woman as my aunt is bad enough.”
A small smile tugged at her lips. “She’s the one who’s been causing all this trouble on the magical world TV, right? I never knew why you never wanted me to get involved in her business. Funny what cats can hear when you think nobody’s listening.”
Finch stared at her. “That was you on the sofa?”
“Who else would it have been? I needed to stretch my legs, and I didn’t feel like walking past those punks at the top of the street. At least if they throw stuff at me as a cat, I can sprint away. It’s not as fun trapped in a human body.” She grinned at him, her eyes flashing with amusement.
“Does this mean you’ll put the gun down and let us in?” Finch paused. “And that, maybe, you forgive me for up and leaving?”
Kenzie laughed. “I’ll put the gun down. Not sure about the forgiveness yet. You all should have some coffee. No offense, but the three of you look like crap. You only get bags like those two ways—panic or partying, sometimes both. Since none of you are smiling, I guess we can rule out partying.” She turned and went inside, motioning for us to follow. “You in some sort of trouble?”
“You could say that,” I muttered.
With the shotgun over her shoulder, Kenzie led us into the living room of what could loosely be described as an “apartment.” A bed was pushed against the far side of the main room, with an anemic bulb flickering to reveal the sleeping, catatonic figure of an older woman. Meanwhile, in the center of the room, perched on a lawn chair that had seen better days, was a little girl with the same mocha-brown hair as Kenzie, scooping cereal from a cracked bowl. Her eyes were fixed on the TV, which was stacked on top of two dirty beer crates. A rerun of SpongeBob was playing on the screen. The picture got fuzzy whenever I took a step in the wrong direction, the kid flashing me an irritated look when it sputtered out for a second or two.
“I thought you said you were getting out of here?” Finch said, surveying the room. The wallpaper was peeling away from the damp walls, and patches of mold had taken over most of the corners in the apartment. How this place even had electricity and running water was beyond me.
Kenzie snorted. “With what dough, Finch? You see it growing on those shrubs in the garden out front?”
“Couldn’t you have… borrowed some?”
“I was trying to keep myself out of trouble, remember? It hasn’t been that long, has it? You losing your mind in your advancing years, buddy?” Kenzie stepped into the kitchen, which was nothing more than a tiny annex through a door to the left. I heard the clank of cups being yanked out of cupboards.
“So, you never made it out of here?” Finch seemed sad about it.
“Nope. Couldn’t afford anywhere new, not with Mom’s bills stacking up and having to keep Inez in food and clothes and stuff. Plus, this place is out of the way, it has no rent, and nobody comes knocking for anything after the dog attack a few months back.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Dog attack?”
“Some guys were snooping, so I had to do something about ‘em. Ten minutes locked in this building with a German Shepherd the size of a small bear, and they never came back again. They were just desperate to get out with everything intact.”
“You did that?”
She nodded. “I borrowed a dog from one of the upscale neighborhoods near this job I was doing. Made sure those morons didn’t get a good look at the poor thing when I Morphed for the attack, and then I took the dog back as if nothing had happened. The owners did ask why there were bits of leather jacket stuck in the dog’s teeth, but I told them he’d gotten hold of a chew toy. Which, in a way, I guess he had.”
“How’s your mom doing?” Finch nodded to the older woman in the bed.
“She’s getting worse,” Kenzie said simply. “You know Alzheimer’s. It’s not really one of those things that gets better, dumbass.”
“Hey, I was only trying to be polite.”
My heart sank for this poor girl, who seemed to be barely scraping by. And, on top of it all, she had to watch her mom slowly lose her grasp on the world and everything in it.
“Isn’t there some magical cure for Alzheimer’s?” Jacob asked innocently.<
br />
Kenzie gave a cold laugh. “What, just wave a magic wand and it’ll all go away? ‘Fraid not. Even if it wasn’t at an advanced stage, I wouldn’t be able to fix it for her. Alzheimer’s is a human disease with no magical cure. It sucks, but it’s true.”
“I thought she was making improvements, last time I saw you?” Finch chimed in.
“Nah, that was just a blip to give me hope. A nasty little trick that the mind plays, apparently, with Alzheimer’s patients. Sometimes, they have total clarity for weeks, and then bam! They can’t even lift their heads off their pillows. It’s been more of the last one recently. Mom can’t do much for herself anymore, so I take care of her.”
“Couldn’t you ask one of the covens to help so you don’t have to do this by yourself?” I asked, realizing it was probably a stupid question. If Kenzie could have done anything to help her family, she would’ve. She seemed like that kind of girl.
Kenzie barked out a sour laugh. “I’d rather see all three of us die than reach out to one of those sick places,” she snapped. “They shunned my mom for being a Mediocre. They forced her into being a Neutral, when she didn’t want to be. She wanted to belong—she didn’t want to be out on her own, without a coven to help her. They blocked her from all the support she could have used, and they didn’t give a crap about any of it. They’re snobs and idiots and bastards, and I hate every single one of them.”
Finch gave a low whistle. “Looks like I’m not the only one who hasn’t changed much. Sounds like you hate the covens even more than you did before.”
“Damn straight.”
“How come the covens haven’t asked you to join them?” I asked, a lightbulb of curiosity going off in my head. “If you’ve got a rare ability, then it’s pretty unlikely you’re a Mediocre. The covens must have been falling over themselves to get at you.”
Kenzie smiled victoriously. “They don’t even know I exist. I got my Morph ability from my dad, but he died before he even knew my mom was pregnant, so he couldn’t exactly pass the message on. And my mom… well, she was so upset about being shunned by those assholes that she didn’t tell them I’d been born. She had me at a human hospital instead of a magical one and kept me hidden whenever anyone came calling for the twice-yearly ‘Neutral checks.’ It wasn’t too hard. When I was really little, Mom would give me to one of the neighbors to look after for an hour, and when I got older, I just went for a walk when the inspectors were due and came back when it was safe. Piece of cake. Suckers. Bet they wish they could get their hands on an ability like this.”
“I’m sorry about your dad,” Jacob murmured. With his chin dipped to his chest, he scuffed his shoe against the floor. I could tell how uncomfortable he was, as a wave of sorrow washed over him. He was probably thinking about his own dad, and how they’d never met either.
“He was a hero,” Kenzie replied, her chest swelling with pride. “I never met him, but Mom used to tell me stories about him all the time. She still does, but she doesn’t exactly know she’s telling stories. Sometimes, she thinks she’s still living through those days, which makes it a bit weird, but… anyway, yeah, my dad was a hero.”
“How so?” I scoured the room to find some sort of memory of him. A moment later, my eyes fixed on a photograph that had been put up high on a shelf on the back wall. It showed a man in military uniform, a beret tilted on the side of his head, a wide, toothy smile on his lips.
“He worked for the UM Peacekeepers. The White Berets. He died in a magical intervention in Iraq, got hit by a stray bullet, right through the heart,” she explained, her voice never wavering. “Not even the strongest magical can dodge a sneaky bullet, not if it hits them there.”
I frowned. “The UN Peacekeepers? United Nations?”
Kenzie shook her head. “UM Peacekeepers. United Magicals. They help out in warzones.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
Finch nodded. “Looks like we’re all in the dead dad club. Fun times for everyone.”
“You don’t always have to say the first thing that comes into your head, you know,” Jacob shot back. Finch looked at him in surprise. It wasn’t very often that Jacob raised his voice to anyone, but I knew it would only spur Finch on to wind up Jacob even more. That was my half-brother to a T.
“No, but I want to.” Finch grinned. “It keeps things fresh, since you never know what’s going to come out. Keeps you on your toes.”
“Was your dad part of a coven?” I ignored Finch, keeping my focus on Kenzie.
She nodded. “Yeah, he was a member of the SDC. Had been for years. He was one of their golden boys, and they’d accepted my mom, too, because of him. But when he died, they cast her out and made her become a Neutral instead of a coven member. That was almost worse, because they’d taken her in and then chucked her out like yesterday’s trash.”
“Alton Waterhouse wasn’t in charge when that happened, was he?”
“Nah, it was some Halifax dude. Asshole, apparently. Colossal, gigantic asshole.”
Finch opened his mouth.
“Not a word, Finch!” I snapped, and his face fell. “So, you’ve been living here with your mom and your sister ever since?”
“Yeah, I’d rather live under the radar than owe the SDC in any kind of way.”
“What if we needed your help, but it involved the SDC?” I broached the subject, feeling increasingly dubious about Kenzie being an asset to us.
“I’d tell you to shove it up your—”
“What if I said I could give you something to help your mom if you do us a favor?” Finch cut in, grinning. I had no idea what he was talking about. We had no script to begin with, but he was probably improvising now.
“What kind of favor?” Her interest was definitely piqued, her eyes widening.
“Well, you asked us if we were in some kind of trouble, and that goes without saying—we’re in a crapload of trouble,” Finch went on. “You might be the only person who can help us. And, if you do, I can give you a rare talisman that’ll help your mom. It won’t fix her, but it’ll improve her condition. I’m talking mental clarity, increased function, regained memory—enough so that you don’t have to be by her side twenty-four seven. This thing is custom-made. It was meant as a gift, but its former owner died and the talisman got lost. And then along I came and snatched it up at a very reasonable price. I had no idea what I was going to do with it, but now I know.”
What was Finch talking about? He hadn’t mentioned any of this to me on the way over here, and while I understood his reluctance to reveal much about Kenzie, I couldn’t get why he wouldn’t have at least mentioned this rare artifact. Did it even exist? Was that why he hadn’t said anything, because he knew I’d argue with him over the morality of lying about something like that? We couldn’t offer Kenzie hope, if there was no talisman. That wasn’t just immoral, it was downright cruel.
“What talisman?” Jacob said the words I wanted to.
Finch grinned. “I’ve got me a nice little stash of scrolls and thingamabobs in one of my secret hidey-holes. I’m something of a connoisseur when it comes to black market goods. I’ve collected stuff for years, most of it illegal, or forbidden, or NSFW. But I’ve picked up some awesome items in my time.” He paused and looked back at Kenzie. “And you can have that talisman, if you help us. As soon as I get to my secret stash, it’s yours. Only trouble is… it’s inside the SDC. And we can’t go there until we know what the fallout is like, and I can’t go there until hell freezes over and elephants start talking Latin. But… if you get us a glimpse of the SDC, then that talisman is yours, even if I have to get one of my minions to fetch it.”
“Who’re you calling a minion?” I asked.
“Not you—I mean the other minions. Wonderboy, et al.” He smirked. “Speaking of which, we could also use your help getting in contact with a guy named Wade. Harley will give you all the details. She’s obsessed with him.”
For a long time, Kenzie said nothing. Instead, she just looked at Fin
ch. “Why didn’t you give me this talisman before, if you knew it would help my mom?” Her voice was thick with emotion when she finally broke the silence, her eyes glinting with anger and frustration. I felt for her. Even knowing that Finch had changed didn’t alter some of the terrible decisions he’d made in the past. If he’d kept this talisman from her, then he’d have to add that to the list of things he needed to repent for.
Finch sighed. “Because I wasn’t a very good person when I knew you before. I’m trying to change that.” He paused, clearing his throat. “Back then, I thought that keeping you off Katherine’s radar was courtesy enough. I was an ass. I’m sorry for that. But, right now, I need your help, and I’m more than happy to give you the talisman once I get to it. Back-scratching, and so forth. Tit for tat, in a purely PG-13 kinda way.”
“Trying to change doesn’t mean you have changed,” Kenzie said.
I offered her an encouraging glance. “He’s come a long way, I promise you.”
“That doesn’t mean I can trust him. I know you better than you think I do, Finch. You were ruthless back then. Who’s to say you won’t screw me out of that talisman after I’ve done what you want?” Her eyes burned, her tone cutting.
“That’s the beauty of this plan,” Finch replied, his confidence surprising me. “You’ll be able to see for yourself. That talisman is in the SDC, and we want you to help us spy on the SDC. It’s a win-win. I tell you where to find the talisman, and you help us out. Job’s a good’un.”
Kenzie paused. “I doubt I’ll have time to find the talisman for myself, but I expect delivery of it as soon as possible.”
“Does that mean what I think it means?” Finch waggled his eyebrows.
She sighed. “I swear to everything I have that I will put this shotgun square between your eyes and blow your brains out if you screw me over. Capiche?”
Harley Merlin 7: Harley Merlin and the Detector Fix Page 4