Round Trip Fare

by Barb Taub

Carey nodded cautiously and tried a smile. Stefan looked even more unhappy, but Kristin stepped in front of him. She took what he was holding and brought it to Carey, opening her hands to reveal the smallest puppy she’d ever seen. “My dog’s litter is ready for adoption. A man bought this one and said that Poppy would bring you to collect her.”

  Carey stared. Two big chocolate eyes in a ball of black fur stared back.

  “He said we should tell you that you’ll need her, and also that you’ll recognize this.” She reached into the basket and pulled out a little brass kaleidoscope. It looked exactly like…

  Cursing, Carey put away the shuriken and pulled open her backpack. A quick search turned up no sign of her own kaleidoscope. “Where did you get that?”

  Kristin looked at her with pity and repeated her words slowly, as if Carey couldn’t be expected to absorb such complex syllables all at once. “The man said you’ll need this puppy, and also that you will know the kaleidoscope.”

  “What man?”

  Stefan spoke. “He was tall, spoke with an Irish accent. He said his name was Rian.”

  After a glance at an equally confused Poppy, Carey reached for the kaleidoscope, but shook her head at the puppy. “I’m sorry, but I really can’t take on a puppy right now.”

  Kristen scowled. “He already paid. In gold.” Her voice deepened to almost a growl. “I never give gold back.” She set the tiny dog on the grass in front of Carey. Bain walked over, sniffed the puppy thoroughly, and began licking her.

  “Dragons,” Poppy coughed into her arm. She bent slightly to whisper in Carey’s ear. “She might be ex-dragon, but I think Kristin would hand over her grandmother if you paid in gold.”

  Stefan smiled, and turned to Carey. “She’s weaned, and there’s a bag of puppy chow in her basket. The man said it was important that you have this particular dog, and that we were not to take her back.”

  “That’s not a dog. I’ve seen guinea pigs bigger than that thing.” Carey shook her head helplessly.

  Kristin set down the basket, gave Carey a doubtful look, and turned away. She took Stefan’s hand, whistled for her own poodle, and the couple strolled off.

  Poppy bent down to pet the scrap of fur. “Rian is a seer who shows up in Null City occasionally. Nobody knows him very well, but he seems like a nice guy. Or at least, that’s what all the people he buys drinks for say.” The tiny dog rolled herself into a ball against Bain’s side, instantly napping with the furious intensity of a puppy, and blowing miniature snores against Bain’s stomach. “Cute. What are you going to call her?”

  With her grinning cousin beside her, Carey sank onto a bench and stared at the two dogs. “Well, I named Bain after Bainbridge Island where we moved after Null City. Then we lived on the St. Helens Ranch.”

  Poppy nodded. “Helen. I like it.”

  Carey turned the little kaleidoscope over in her hands. The late afternoon sunshine warmed her neck, and she thought about what staying there forever would look like. She could get a job, Bain could fetch sticks from the lake, and they’d have Beer Tuesdays with Frankie. Maybe Frankie would like a puppy. “Have you ever heard of Sweats?” She thought her voice was calm, but something made Poppy look at her sharply.

  “Sure. During the war, each side accused the other of being the source. My friend Raguel is an inventor at Fallen Court. He finally figured out that Sweats was a magic-manipulation, and that’s why people who came to Null City before they had any symptoms never got ill. We couldn’t cure physical symptoms that had already occurred, but even some of those people recovered.”

  “Yosh—I mean Iax—has it. He…might have passed it to me.”

  Poppy sucked in a breath. “No, he doesn’t have it.” Her eyebrows drew into a puzzled frown. “He can’t.”

  “I saw it. He was sweating, face wet, shirt soaked.”

  Poppy looked troubled as she turned sideways on the bench, placing a hand on each of Carey’s shoulders to move her until their eyes met. “There is no such thing as Sweats anymore. Rag worked with witches to develop a counter spell, and witches in the Gifts spread it across the world. I don’t know why Yosh says he has it, but Sweats doesn’t exist anymore. Anywhere.”

  The world stopped. Carey listened to her own heart beating, slowly at first, then speeding up.

  “Rat bastard.”

  Poppy stood cautiously, eyes on the knife Carey was suddenly fondling. “Um…okay.”

  “Not you. Yosh.” Carey spoke carefully, precisely. “I mean Iax. If that rat-freaking, slime-crawling, manipulative, oxygen-waste of an ex-Warden isn’t dying, I might just kill him myself.” The knife disappeared into her boot, and she stood, scooping the puppy into her basket and whistling for Bain to follow as she began jogging back toward the City center.

  When she finally caught up, a panting Poppy pulled on Carey’s arm until she stopped. She held up a hand for Carey to wait until she caught her breath enough to speak. “Where…you going?”

  “Back to Seattle. I have to get out of Null City before my twenty-four hours are up.” She saw Poppy’s face and stopped. “I love it here. My family always talked about Null City as home, and there’s a good chance that you’re all the family I’ve got left now. But I can’t afford to stay, especially since I’ve just had one more thing added to my to-do list. Now I have my brother and sister to find, my roommate to rescue, Null City to save, and my ex-boyfriend to castrate. Preferably with a dull-edged garden tool. A rusty one.”

  Carey snorted in disgust as they entered Poppy’s tour office outside of the Metro station to collect the suitcase she’d left there. “I just wish it didn’t have to be the blood option to pay for the Metro ticket. I don’t want to be too weak to coldcock Mr. Controlling-Manipulative-POS-ex-Warden Zahari again.”

  Poppy looked like she really wanted to smile but wasn’t sure she should. “I think I can help with the ticket. Since you’re working on behalf of Null City, we might be able to use my Anchor pass for your fare.”

  Inside the station, when Poppy returned triumphantly waving a ticket, Carey hesitated. “Before you hand that over, you should probably know I forced your brother Zach to take over the remainder of my Service Agreement on the Metro when he was just trying to help Iax. I’d say I’m sorry but…kinda not so much.”

  Poppy’s grin was back. “Actually, if Zach’s on SA, hopefully he can’t get into too much trouble. We have a club of people who’ve had to rescue him from various things.” She shook her head. “It’s…not a small club, but I suspect you’re about to be its newest member.”

  They had a few minutes before the train was due, so the cousins sat outside the station’s branch of Lattes Inferno. Poppy waved a hand at the old glass-roofed station ringed by little shops and surrounded by the city outside. “It’s a good place, Carey. You could belong here.”

  Carey nodded. “I’ll come back. If…”

  A train whistle sounded. Poppy nodded. “I know.”

  As Carey paused before the train slowing to a stop, a worried-looking Zach waiting on the train steps, Poppy surprised her with a hug. “Just remember. Whatever happens, you have family here.”

  Carey blinked suddenly wet eyes to see Poppy punching Zach on the arm. “Behave, you. And stay away from those sisters of yours.” When he offered her a sheepish grin, she gave him a quick hug. “I don’t even want to know how you ended up on the Metro. I’m just looking forward to a little peace and quiet while you’re gone.” She waved off his indignant protests, handed him the bag with their two untouched lunches, and stepped back onto the platform.

  Carey followed Zach into the first Metro car and caught his arm. “Yosh?” At his confused look, she amended. “Iax?”

  “He got off at Seattle, right after you left.”

  As she sat on a bench seat with Bain at her feet, Zach seemed hesitant to leave. “He was…pretty messed up after you left.”

  “Not as messed as he’s going to be when I catch up to him again.” She gave him her most feral smile and wat
ched Zach suck in a breath. “You’re my cousin and I have hardly any relatives left, so I probably shouldn’t shoot you, at least until you finish up my SA term. The Metro might not let me board again, and Poppy probably wouldn’t let me back into Null City. But I have some thinking to do, and you aren’t helping.”

  When he only stared, she bared her teeth and caressed the knife that suddenly appeared in her hands. “Shoo.” He wasn’t running as he headed for the door. Not quite.

  Carey transferred her attention to the darkness outside the Metro’s windows and went back to thinking about Yosh and tangled yarn. And stroking that knife.

  Zach tried to let Carey use the little bedroom, but she told him there was no way his oversized frame would fold onto a bench seat. She did join him for meals in the kitchen, though. Zach really needed to learn how to cook scrambled eggs.

  In the three days it took for the Metro to schedule a Seattle stop, Carey worked on housebreaking the puppy. Bain assumed the role of parent—supervising playtime, grooming, and frequent naps. By the second day, Helen had…changed. Although still tiny, she refused to eat her puppy food. Carey was in the kitchen defrosting hamburger for Bain when the puppy’s eyes flashed red and her nose twitched. Seconds later, Bain’s entire dish of food was gone. Helen curled up in a ball and gave a contented little burp. A puff of smoke emerged. Bain sneezed, giving his empty dish a reproachful look.

  “Okay, carnivores all around. Got it.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  June 2011: Seattle

  Seattle’s summer rain silvered and blurred the windshield. Her abandoned jeep, recovered by Claire and waiting for her at the Accords Agency garage, was parked across the street from her Seattle house. From the back, Bain whined softly. “I know, Wigglebutts. Just give me a minute.”

  When they started their little business, Marley had insisted on engaging the property management company Harry used for the St. Helens Ranch. The Nephilim-run company specialized in taking care of property for their exceptionally long-lived—and occasionally long-absent—clientele. It had only seemed reasonable to add onto the account the little house they bought near the University. Now the house waited, cleaned up after the bombing and—Thank you, Claire!—kitchen emptied of perishables. Utilities were paid, lights were on a timer, and the grass was neatly trimmed. Despite the rain, she could see the street had been repaired, the lawn replanted, and even damaged windows replaced. From the outside, it looked like the occupants had just gone out for pizza. It was like looking in one of those circus mirrors. Everything was there, she thought, but if you moved, everything looked different.

  Bain sniffed nervously as they went in, his fur rising along the back of his neck as low growls rumbled. She didn’t blame him. The feeling of being watched was a featherlight tickle between her shoulder blades. She searched Marley’s room but if any clues to her whereabouts had ever been there, they were long gone. In the little kitchen, Carey ran a gentle hand over the espresso machine, then pulled a screwdriver from the tool drawer.

  In the adjacent dining room she pulled a chair to the center of the room and climbed up. She was just lifting down the stacked glass lighting fixture when Bain shifted his gaze to the doorway behind her. Damn, how did the man move without making a sound? “Can you hold this?” Still without turning around, she lowered the light until he could take it from her. Then she stepped down and turned to face him.

  “Iax.” She ignored his wince at her use of his proper name. They stared at each other for a heartbeat. Two. “Why?” Her voice was raw, almost a whisper.

  His usually smooth voice was rougher, deeper than she remembered. “I’ve lived with danger since I left home at sixteen, no problem. But then I took Laurel’s body back to Frankie and saw something in her die too. And every time I thought about you, a sitting duck on that train, my head went to a crazy place.” He looked thinner, with lines she’d never noticed before surrounding his mouth and etching into his cheeks as if he actually had been ill. “I would have done anything. Said anything to get you off the Metro. Then you jumped into my arms at the station, and my brain just…stopped working.”

  “I told you I loved you.” She could hardly move her lips to form the words. “You could have talked to me. Said something.”

  He looked up quickly. “You want to hear that I love you too? That I lied? That there was never anyone else?”

  She shook her head. “That was then. When I trusted you. But you…” Breathe, Carey. “You decided it was better to lie—let me think you were sleeping around, were dying—than trust me to make my own choices?”

  He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, they were so dark.—Pain? Remorse? Anger?—“After you left, I kept seeing your face when you realized…you believed I was dying. Believed I slept with someone else. Believed that I’d risk your life by infecting you too. As soon as the train pulled out, I knew I’d made the biggest mistake of my life.” He turned to lay the light fixture on the table, lips pressed so tightly there was a white line around them. “You have no reason to believe anything I say, but I just want you to know I’m so sorry, and I’d do…anything…to have you trust me again.”

  “So…” Arms unfolded, hands fisted at her side, she stepped closer. “Just which thing are you sorry for?” Think I might have some of that mad still going on? “Lying to me? Using the love I’d just offered to get me to do what you wanted? Thinking I’m too weak or too pathetic to take care of myself?”

  Bain leaned against her leg, and she automatically bent down to rub his ears. When she stood up, her voice was even. “I understand you wanted to protect me. What I do not understand and don’t know how to forgive is that you and Jeffers and Harry didn’t trust me. You all made up an elaborate lie to get me safely to Null City. Then what? I was just supposed to sit around and waste the lifetime spent training me for this very task? What did I ever do to make you all so certain I’d fail?”

  He jerked as if she’d punched him again.

  Her chin came up. “Luckily, I’m not as stupid as you. I have a job to do, and I’m going to do it. I have faith in myself, and yes, I probably will need your help. I just don’t need your trust anymore. I don’t want it. And you don’t deserve mine.”

  Still moving stiffly, she picked up the light fixture and handed it to him. When she left the house a few minutes later, she carried only the footstool-size air bed and some bedding and towels, while he followed with the ceiling light.

  As they approached her jeep, Bain nudged her arm and whined softly. She put the air bed onto the back seat, then motioned to Iax to add the light fixture. Opening the rear door, she pulled out the puppy basket, from which small puffs of smoke were emerging along with a few high yips. She lifted the puppy out of her basket and frowned. Is it my imagination, or is she bigger than three days ago?

  “What is that?”

  At the sound of his voice, she glanced up. “Toy-poodle/hellhound mix puppy. Her name was going to be Helen, but now that she eats raw meat and breathes fire, she’s Hellen with two Ls. Hell for short.”

  He snorted. “I cooked bigger lizards in the Mojave.”

  “Can we get back to the part where you’d do anything to show how sorry you are?”

  “Right.”

  “Because I think Hell is supposed to be with you.” His eyes widened. “A seer named Rian left her for me at Null City and said we’d need her. I looked up hellhounds, and they often predict deaths. Since you don’t have your gift back yet, I figure you might need Hellen.”

  From the basket, she took out a tiny pink collar liberally studded with rhinestones and fastened it around the puppy’s neck before clipping on a thin pink leather leash. She handed the leash to a stunned Iax. “She eats raw meat, occasionally burps fire, and breathes out smoke when she’s hungry or scared. And she likes to play tug of war with underwear. Oh, and sometimes she poops live coals so be careful what you scoop.”

  Snapping her fingers for Bain to get into the car, Carey left Iax holding the
pink leash and the basket. She drove away from yet another house that wasn’t—and never again would be—home.

  Her office building also seemed unchanged. The single working bulb in the old fifties light fixture barely lit the tired lobby.

  It took three trips to haul everything upstairs. But despite the small detour on the last trip, she soon had coffee started in the kitchen/storage room at the back of the office suite. Of course, the bed barely fit into the far end of the little room, even after she shoved the bank of cabinets out to the landing at the top of the stairs. At least her time on the Metro made her efficient at making up beds in tight spaces. Leaning against the wall at the head of the inflated bed, she raised her coffee cup in a silent toast to the retro rocket-shaped light now hanging above her, its four lit bulbs reflecting softly along its newly polished surface. Here’s to change.

  »»•««

  Carey grinned to herself as she entered the Accords Agency next morning. Time to surprise Claire. She raised an eyebrow at the IN CONFERENCE: DO NOT DISTURB sign on Claire’s office door, then shrugged and turned the knob. Ah…locked. Excellent. She reached for her lock picks.

  Her grin froze when she stepped around the door a minute later to see a couple bent over Claire’s desk. Moving to the side, Carey tilted her head to peer past the man’s naked back to his face. “Peter? Peter Oshiro? Is that you? Nice tattoos.”

  Claire groaned.

  Carey stepped back through the door, gently closing it behind her and leaning against it. She remembered Peter as a solemn cadet at the Accords Academy. He’d served in the Nonwars, so even though he was a few years behind their Academy class, he was older and more experienced in many areas. As she recalled, the tall, slim man with the beautiful face of a Samurai warrior had been the object of intense attention from most of the female—and not a few of the male—cadets. She’d heard he was a Warden now, on special assignment reporting directly to Director Jeffers. He and Claire had, she remembered, dated briefly her last year at the Academy, but it didn’t end well. Apparently, they’re past that. Way past.