Halfblood Legacy

by Rheaume, Laura

  However, the morning had allowed her to remember that there were big problems with killing. One was that it couldn’t be changed. The other was that people could.

  She used to believe that Cord was bone deep bad. When she had seen a vision of him entrapping her, preparing for her rape, she had agreed with Scythe: they would kill him if they got the chance. When she ran into him after the kidnapping, but not the rape, had taken place, she had felt the same. She had wanted him to die for the things he had done.

  But, they had been wrong about Cord, and if they had taken the opportunity to kill him when they were in that frame of mind, he wouldn’t have been there to comfort her just by existing the night before. He wouldn’t have helped her in the subtle ways he had since they had left their home months ago, some of which were small things like saying, “Here.”

  “Here,” he had said at the university, when she was suffering from yet another vision. “Here,” helping her to the ground. He had forgotten, maybe because it was such a small word, he had forgotten to say it like he didn’t care. Maybe it slipped past his guard. Or maybe he just thought she was too distracted to hear him inside his word.

  That was a gift, that word. A reminder, to not be too hasty with things like death.

  She had needed a reminder like that, had needed him to put his face in front of hers, to block out the sight of a woman who had hurt Mercy by showing her what she didn’t think existed. She had needed him to say, “Hey. Snap out of it.”

  Cord, who was supposed to die, who had deserved to die.

  Cord’s face was a reminder. You could be wrong.

  Jonah was slowly nodding his head up and down, and she could feel the simple pleasure it gave him to rub against something soft and warm and alive. Sucking his thumb sent little rhythmic clicking sounds to jump around the slower thump, thump that she made by patting him gently on the back. Inside, his mind swirled, flowing easily from one idea to another: vague feelings of comfort and security to curiosity about the things he could see when he opened his eyes briefly to the short clips of memory that popped up from nowhere and returned there without warning.

  He didn’t have a voice, but she could understand him when she tried. She could talk to him, but he still had difficulty with words. Sending him images worked better. Mercy slowly opened up a picture of the ocean shore. Rays of sunlight peeked through puffy white clouds and poured down onto waves breaking against the cliffs. The sound of seagulls and the wind, and the strong smell of the sea. The feel of small rocks poking and sharp twigs pricking the bottoms of her feet. Once she waded into the surf, the water pulled at her, making her brace herself against it, and then it pushed her toward the shoreline, forcing her to take a few steps. She made her way into deeper water. When the timing was right, she gave in, letting the water take her, and she rode the wave. Flying on water.

  He really liked that. She did, too, so she started again. The deep green ocean, sparkling under the sun’s gaze...

  -----------

  The woman could only stare. Propped up against the wall with her hands tied at her waist and a fierce headache demanding attention with every beat of her pulse, she was bound by the sight before her. Light flowed through the window, drawn to the same thing she was. It bathed its subject in warm affection. Or, did the light somehow pour out of the girl, and stream outside to brighten the sun?

  She blinked, knowing such a thing was impossible, but then, it wasn’t the first impossible thing that had happened to her in the last day. When blinking a few more times made no difference at all to her perceptions, she had to consider the possibility, at least.

  The girl was glowing in the sunlight. Her tan skin, a smooth swath of silk without a single flaw, shone in every place the light touched. Some soft brown curls hovered close to her face, while others spread themselves out, encircling a round shoulder, or lying across her neck; the sun kissed her curls, too, and they blushed a timid red. Red, also, were her lips, shaped by the hint of a smile that raised her cheeks and made a pretty face into a stunning one.

  The blanket was draped over her and the baby at her chest, and her arms were the only things that denied its embrace. One delicate hand cradled the swaddled child, while the other rose and fell serenely over him.

  Without warning, the young woman smiled the tiniest bit more and sighed deeply. It stole her breath completely. The bounty hunter shook her head and told herself again that there were no such things as angels.

  Finally, she turned her head and looked at the man who sat on the couch above her, his legs pulled up, one arm over his knee. He had been watching her, and her sleeping partner, since she had awoken just moments before. He wore a slightly amused expression, the lips she had kissed tilting up in the corner the way they had in the bar, and the eyes surprisingly no cooler than they had been when he had made love to her.

  Hate blossomed in her instantly, swelling until it was a heavy weight on her chest. He had been taunting her all along, calling her gorgeous, praising her face and her body, making love to her as if he were starved when all along he had been with this woman. What a supreme actor he was, and what a complete dupe she was to have believed him.

  He shook his head at her frown and then sighed, losing the grin. He whispered quietly, using that voice she knew, “What are you thinking, sweetheart?”

  “Don’t call me that.” She looked away, trying to pass by the light, but she got stuck there again anyway. Even her body was perfect under the thin blanket. Her jealousy, having filled her, started to burn.

  “Alright, Jenna,” he said, and her head jerked back around.

  “How do you know that name?” Even her partner didn’t know her real name.

  “You told me, sweetheart.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Yes, you did. You told me everything about yourself.”

  She hadn’t told him...at least she didn’t remember telling him. She didn’t have anything that had her real name on it, no identification or anything. She frowned again, trying to recall…

  “Jenna…”

  She grit her teeth.

  “...please don’t tell me you are jealous.”

  “Shut the hell up. Why don’t you…”

  “...because I already told you, didn’t I?”

  “Told me what? That you are a piece of shit liar?”

  “That I wanted to spend the night with you. That was not a lie.”

  She looked over at one of the most beautiful women she had ever seen, someone that, with that baby in her arms, was both a mother and, with that face and that body, a desirable lover. She shook her head. Not possible. It was not possible that she, as good looking as she was, could ever tempt a man away from that.

  “She’s not as attractive when she’s awake. And talking,” he said as if he could read her mind.

  “She’s glowing.”

  “It’s the light.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  “It is the light, and him.”

  Him? Jenna looked back at Karin and the boy. “She’s not awake?” she asked. “She’s patting him.”

  He shrugged. “She’s busy.” Then she realized that he hadn’t looked at her once.

  She hated to ask, absolutely hated herself for it, but she did it anyway. “So, between me and her…?”

  “You, every day of the week,” he said quickly, and then added, “and all night, too.” Damn those sexy eyes.

  She hated that she loved it, down to her bones hated it, so she looked away. So stupid. Beyond stupid, to care what he thought.

  Still, it was hard not to be a little pleased, even if it was a lie.

  “Strange for a powered woman to be hunting the powered.”

  “It’s not that strange, and besides, I have almost no ability.” She looked at him, “How could you tell? Are you sensitive to it?”

  “No,” he said. “It’s just that she doesn’t glow for those of us who aren’t powered. Ask your friend, if she ever wakes up. She won’t see a thing.”
>
  “But, I never noticed it before…”

  “You never saw her using power before. She’s not your typical user.”

  “She’s using her power right now?” Jenna watched the girl, but she wasn’t doing anything. “For what?”

  He shrugged. Either he wouldn’t tell, or he didn’t know. Since he was just a chaperone, he probably didn’t know.

  “Last night...she...was that her?” Jenna couldn’t quite figure out what had happened. She just knew that the door had flown forward and hit her. Then it had returned to its place and jumped forward to hit her again. He hadn’t touched her and no one else was around, so it must have been her...but how?

  He didn’t react, beyond smiling.

  Moving walls? “Powerful,” she said, thinking about the bounty. “You’ve got a pricey little charge there. I remember you said you weren’t too attached. Was that true?”

  He shrugged.

  “Because we could make a bundle and a half if you’re not too attached.”

  His eyes flickered to Helaine, and Jenna added, “We’ll dump her.”

  “You’d betray your partner, just like that?” he asked.

  “For you? Every day of the week.” That was an easy one, because wishing it wasn’t a lie was a cousin of the truth.

  Watching his hand start to tap on his leg, she could tell he was tempted.

  Finally, he asked, “How much we talking?”

  “Thousands.”

  His eyes popped, “Really? That much?”

  “How much you making now?”

  “Couple hundred.”

  She smiled. “Sounds like a no brainer, Reese.”

  “There’s a problem. She’s a powerhouse.”

  “Trank.”

  “She’s allergic, at least to the one you got. She told me last night.”

  “So what?”

  “So, does it matter if she’s damaged?”

  Hmmm. That was a tough one. No, they’d probably cut the finder’s for that. “We’ll find one she’s not allergic to.”

  “Where?”

  “Drugstore, whatever.”

  He shook his head, and she felt her opportunity slipping. What else? She looked back at the girl. “The baby.”

  “What?”

  “We’ll use him. Look, she’s practically adopted him.”

  “If you try to take that baby, she’ll probably kill you,” he said with unnerving conviction.

  “Then you do it.”

  He shook his head. He was starting to rethink the idea. She could almost feel him backing out of her reach. Time to try another tack. She nodded, gazing at him and then over at the girl. “It’s hard.”

  “What?”

  “It’s hard to know how far is too far.”

  “I don’t think about that shit,” he said dismissively.

  “No? I do.”

  “I do whatever I need to.”

  “No. You care about her. I can tell.”

  “It’s a job.”

  “She’s an angel.”

  “She’s a nightmare, and a pain in the ass.”

  “If you don’t care about her, then look at her.”

  His head jerked minutely, and he frowned at Jenna. Then he turned his head and looked at Karin, still patting the baby, whose thumb sucking had slowed until there were long pauses between each pull. Jenna watched him closely, especially the eyes. He looked back at her, his face unchanged.

  “Hmm. I guess I was wrong,” she said, smiling. Not a hint of affection, not a sign of the heat he had shown her the night before. She couldn’t help feeling a little gratified. Next to her, Helaine started to move. “You’re going to have to decide what you want, Reese. Your two hundred credit angel or a couple thousand and every day of the week.”

  He didn’t answer at first. Finally he asked, “All night, too?”

  Chapter 23

  Finally getting the doorway clear, Scythe grabbed a debilitated handle and gave it a tremendous pull, noisily jerking open the heavy door of what turned out to be a small walk-in freezer. The smell of Human waste and illness was strong, but there was another odor beneath it, a familiar one that immobilized him for a few seconds. During that time, his mind made a belated connection: there was one other person he knew that could form ribbons of power.

  Even with his eyes giving him further evidence, he blinked twice in disbelief before he entered the tiny room and, picking up a toppled shelf and shifting a second, he knelt beside Mercy, Ian’s daughter. Even before he touched her, he could feel the fever coming off her skin. Her head turned away from the first light she had seen in days, and her slightly sunken eyes screwed shut. Her face was gaunt, and there was a scabbed-over cut on her forehead surrounded by a large bruise.

  Next to him, another Scythe was already kneeling down and hovering over her. His hands reached out to touch her face, but they passed right through her skin.

  When she scratched out something with her dry throat, he leaned forward and said in Human, “What?”

  “Took y'…lon' ‘nuf,” she breathed in a voice deeper than the one he remembered from his youth.

  Holy crap. She’s making jokes. “Hold on, Mercy,” he said, checking her over for more serious wounds.

  How can she be alive? he asked himself, counting the days again. He quickly surveyed the compartment, which was completely picked clean except for a few old, empty boxes. There was no sign of anything to eat or drink. No food or water for four days?

  He carefully raised her into a sitting position, recognizing the signs of a lightweight protective vest beneath her jacket. He pulled a small gel pack from his chest pocket, ripped it open and lifted it to her mouth.

  Scythe stood up and watched the gentle way the man cradled her in his arms and cupped her cheek. “Ed,” he said. “Talk to me.”

  “Here, suck on this.” When her face puckered up immediately, he said, “I know it’s sour; we’ll get you something else in a minute. Let some of it sit under your tongue. Good.” He pulled his water bag free from its clip. “Water?”

  “Hell, yeah,” she said weakly, her hand coming up to grasp it but missing it entirely.

  I guess I can tell who she takes after, he thought. “Here, just a little,” he instructed, taking a moment to calm himself while she drank.

  It shook him up somewhere deep inside at finding, not just someone from a past he had left behind, but this particular someone who had been very special to him.

  Scythe could feel everything that Ed was experiencing as they relived the memory together. When he felt the first of the tingling shimmer to life in the other man’s chest, an irrational dread started to grow in him. “She wasn’t special to you, Ed. Remember that.”

  His words were hollow ghosts that haunted unnoticed by the living.

  “Ok, that’s good. Time to go.”

  Picking up her disturbingly light body, he knocked open the door which had swung half-way closed behind him and worked his way through the outer room.

  “Ok, I’m bringing her out,” he said. “I didn’t find anything indicating a trap.”

  “Got it.” Anvil spoke to those around him, “Move in. Standard intel sweep, but for the nasties. Keep on your toes.”

  The ribbons floated lazily in the air and wrapped around Scythe’s arms when they brushed him. He knew from experience that, had she been more awake, she could have spoken to him through them like her father could. He wondered if she had developed other abilities in the years since he had seen her last, because she was clearly very powerful.

  He could sense through the ones on his arms that her mind was wavering on the edge of consciousness, which was why he started when she whispered, “Oh, not again.” He looked down and noticed that her head had tilted sideways, and she was staring with a crease between her eyebrows at the burned bodies they were passing. One ribbon peeled away from her and reached out to the nearest charred form.

  Scythe lifted his arm, turning her face away from the vision of death that surrounded
them. She looked up at him, and her sad eyes slowly closed and reopened. Then she seemed to recognize him for the first time. “Scythe,” she whispered, and released a long breath.

  At the same time, he sucked a breath in, reacting instinctively to the sound of her voice speaking his name not with wonder, but with relief. She leaned her head into him, pressed her face into his jacket, and fell into unconsciousness.

  Scythe told himself that it was only a memory, that it wasn’t anything serious. He told himself to calm down. But his heart wasn’t obeying him. It beat hurriedly in his chest as he watched Edillian carry Mercy away.

  -----------

  Temper waited until he closed the door and then signaled to her team. The two on the back window responded immediately with a quick beep in her ear. Ready. Avvel nodded from across the street. She stood and strode quickly to the entrance to the office. She looked around once more, and, not seeing anyone except her own operatives, took a hold of the doorknob and turned.

  Locked. Hmm. This was going to be noisy. Well, that could work in her favor. She took out her gun and, with the help of two shots, was able to kick the door in. She leveled her gun at the four men sitting around the table in the corner of the room. They raised their hands and stared at her in surprise, but she noticed that the two with guns hadn’t pulled them out.

  The boy was a genius. No doubt about it.

  “Hey! Who the hell are you?”

  “What’s the meaning of this?”

  They were playing their parts well. The young one was was so red in the face that she wondered if he was even in on it.

  “Hands on the table, now,” she barked. Avvel came in behind her, went quickly to the door, peeked in and then disappeared into the room beyond. “This is how it’s going to go. You two, Kinsing and Fairmont, are the ones we are interested in. You’re going to answer some questions and then we’re going to take a ride. You two can make it through this if everyone cooperates. Questions? No? Good.”

  Avvel returned with one of theirs from the back. The other was covering the rear window. They grabbed Red-in-the-face and took him into the other room where he’d be gagged and tied.