The Book of Betrayal

by Melissa McShane

  Malcolm looked down at the streaks of watery black liquid smearing his coat and white shirt. “It will have to be burned,” he said, and removed the coat and loosened his tie before taking it off entirely and putting it in his pants pocket. “I apologize for undressing in public, but I’m unwilling to have this residue so close to my skin.”

  “We don’t mind,” I said, then blushed again at the look Judy gave me.

  Malcolm balled up the coat inside-out and wrapped the ruined shirt around it, then held it in front of him like a basketball. “I was useless,” he said. “Had my security team not arrived when it did, I would now either be in custody for murder, or I’d be dead.”

  “You kept the invader from attacking anyone else,” I said.

  “I couldn’t keep it from attacking me.” He was looking into the distance at something no one else could see. “I’ve never felt the touch of an invader before. I had no idea how agonizing it is. I didn’t dare subdue it fully, and risk having it drain me.”

  I risked putting my hand on his arm, which was tense and rigid. “Malcolm, you told me there would be great adjustments. This is just one of them. Maybe you need to rely more heavily on firearms?”

  He looked down at me, half-smiling. “A polite way of pointing out my weakness?”

  Stung, I snatched my hand away. “I’m just being sensible while I wait for you to pull your head out of your ass. You’re still a fighter. Stop dwelling on what you can’t do and figure out what you can.”

  Malcolm’s eyes widened. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Judy’s mouth drop open. I didn’t care if it was rude. I wasn’t going to put up with the man I loved being such a complete whiner baby.

  Then he laughed. It pissed me off further. “You’d better not be laughing at me,” I said.

  “Of course not,” Malcolm said. “I’m laughing at myself. I swore I wouldn’t fall into self-pity, yet here I am…ah, Helena, what would I do without you?”

  “Live a life of bleak despair and hopelessness, probably,” I snapped. I was still irritated, though I was having trouble holding onto that emotion.

  “I fear you’re correct. Ladies,” Malcolm said, inclining his head to Viv and Judy, “the custodian and I need to speak privately. Helena, your office?”

  I followed him, somewhat grumpily, into the office, where I shut the door behind us and, after a moment’s thought, locked it. Malcolm tossed his ball of clothes into the metal trash can and leaned against the desk, staring at the can for a long moment. “I didn’t think you’d need privacy to stare at the trash,” I said.

  Without looking at me, Malcolm said quietly, “I forgot again. I tried to set the ruined clothes on fire, and…” He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Helena, I hope it’s not too weak of me, but I don’t know if I’ll ever adjust to this new life.”

  The sadness in his voice dispelled my irritation and left me feeling nothing but compassion for him. I put my arms around him and rested my head on his chest. “You’re not weak,” I said, “and you’ll get past this. I wish I could tell you how long it will take, but I don’t know. And neither do you. You just have to keep going, one day at a time.”

  “I’ve never been afraid before, facing an invader. I feel like a stranger to myself.” He put his arms around my waist and drew me closer.

  “I bet you’ve never faced one of the intelligent invaders before, either.”

  “No. True. Though I’m not sure it should make a difference.”

  “I was actually thinking that you went after it without hesitating, and how most people probably wouldn’t. That makes you brave, in my opinion.”

  “I like your opinion. I think I’ll use it.”

  I lifted my face toward his. “I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

  “I’m not. You were right, I was feeling sorry for myself. And that will get me nowhere.” He leaned down and brushed my lips with a kiss, feather-light and tingling. “Particularly since I crave your approval and good opinion.”

  “You have it.” I twined my fingers in the hair at the base of his neck—he needed a haircut—and pulled his head down so I could kiss him deeply. His mouth tasted sweet, like honey, and I stepped closer as he ran his hands down my back and over my hips. “Mmm,” I murmured. “Tell me you’re coming back tonight.”

  “I can’t. I promised my mother I’d stay home.” He moved from kissing my lips to nipping at my earlobe, making me sigh with pleasure. “I am seriously considering manufacturing a hunting emergency.”

  “No, don’t do that. She might get suspicious. We’ll just have to exercise restraint.”

  He hooked his thumbs through my belt loops and tugged me so close I could feel every inch of his body pressed against mine. “I spent two weeks of enforced separation from you. I am not interested…in exercising…restraint.”

  The low growl of his voice made me giggle, and I dropped a kiss on his jaw, hard and angular. “We can wait another night. Waiting makes it better.”

  “I’m not sure that’s true.” He caught my ponytail between his fingers and twirled my hair around his thumb. “But I’m willing to make the experiment.”

  I kissed him one last time and stepped away from the comforting circle of his arms. “You should probably go. Much as I’d rather you stay. Judy can handle anyone who comes in…actually, we probably have time for—”

  Malcolm laughed and silenced me with a finger across my lips. “Exercising restraint, remember?”

  I made a face. “That was my idea, wasn’t it? Sometimes I have stupid ideas.”

  We walked back to the front of the store, close enough to hold hands but separated by those few inches, and Malcolm coolly said his goodbyes just as if he and I hadn’t been kissing feverishly just moments before. I watched him stride away up the street, looking rather odd in expensive suit pants and a white undershirt, and said, “He is so hot.”

  “Can we talk about Jeremiah now? You know, the one who might be in mortal danger?” Viv said.

  “Oh. Right. Judy, what did you say about setting something up?”

  “Viv and I were talking about it while you were having your…private discussion…with Campbell,” Judy said. “I spoke to Seth Richards, explained what we had in mind, and he said he could help us.”

  “It can’t have been that easy.”

  “I may have misrepresented our interest in tracking Jeremiah’s familiar. Seth might think we’re doing this with Lucia’s authority, testing the theory before she implements it broadly.”

  “You lied to him?”

  “Misrepresented, Helena. If anyone finds out we’re doing this, they’ll put a stop to it, and that’ll be it for helping Jeremiah. Or am I wrong, and you told Campbell the plan?”

  “I—no.” I’d forgotten about it, honestly, but even if I’d remembered…no, I wouldn’t have told him. He would have felt it his duty to come along, and I had a feeling that even if Jeremiah wasn’t a traitor, a confrontation between Nicollien and Ambrosite could not end well for anyone. I crushed feelings of guilt and added, “Look, we find out where Jeremiah is and if he’s being held captive, nothing more, all right? We aren’t equipped to bring him in if he’s—”

  “He’s not a traitor,” Viv said.

  “This worked out so well for us before, with the serial killer, remember?” Judy said. “The plan was just to locate him, too. And Jeremiah’s also a wood magus and accustomed to working alone. If he catches us—”

  “Which he won’t.”

  “We need to be prepared to run. All that matters is we get news of his location to Lucia. Let’s just hope it doesn’t cost us our lives.”

  “You’re such a pessimist,” Viv said, sticking her tongue out at Judy.

  “I’m a realist. Aren’t I, Helena?”

  “A realist, yes,” I replied absently, remembering being caught in skinny, wire-hard vines, remembering too the feel of Mitch Hallstrom’s soft hand lying flat against the skin of my belly. I hoped with all my heart Jeremiah wasn’t a traitor.


  13

  Judy had called it “the kennels,” but it looked like a cement block bunker, long and pale gray in the moonlight. Its low windows made it seem sunken into the earth, a cut-rate hobbit hole for low-income hobbits. Lights flanked the wire mesh of the gate we’d come in by, illuminating the fence for a few yards before it disappeared around a corner. More lights shone over the metal door at the far end of the building, yellow and flickering like candles. It was the most depressing thing I’d seen in weeks.

  I sat with both hands on the steering wheel of my elderly Honda Civic and shivered. I’d been stupid not to anticipate what had happened. Walking into that long, long chamber lined with steel mesh cages, that moment of perfect silence as if the world was holding its breath, and then the screaming, the howling, and worst of all the clawing as dozens of invaders all tried to break free to reach me. I’d shrieked and retreated as fast as I could into the waiting room, where a couple of Nicolliens regarded me curiously. Then, with a quick word to Judy, I’d retreated all the way to the car. I shivered again. It was the cold, just the cold. I should turn on the car and keep it warm. Just the cold.

  The door opened, and Viv and Judy emerged. “We’ve got it,” Viv said, dropping into the seat next to me. She held out her cupped hands and displayed a plastic hamster ball, slightly cloudy with long use. Inside was a glowing yellow sphere, fuzzy around the edges, that quivered in the center of the ball.

  “How does it work?” I asked.

  “When I trigger it, it points the direction toward the harness.” Viv held it up to eye level. “We could be driving for a while. I hope you have a full tank of gas.”

  “It’s better than nothing,” Judy said irritably.

  “Of course it is. That wasn’t a criticism. It’s still going to be hard to find him.”

  “Then let’s get moving,” I said.

  Viv held the ball to her lips and whispered a word I couldn’t make out. The sphere stretched, spun into a coil, then flattened out into a rough arrow shape that turned a sickly pale green like a phosphorescent grub. “It’s pointing…which way are we facing?…southwest. Toward downtown.”

  I groaned and put the car in gear. “If he’s somewhere downtown, it really will take forever.”

  “Less bitching. More driving,” Judy said.

  The arrow kept pointing steadily southwest as I passed the entrance to the 5. “I thought you wanted to hurry,” Judy said.

  “If we’re on the freeway, we could speed right past him and then take forever working our way back.” I made a left turn and the arrow spun to compensate. “This makes more sense.”

  “Logical,” Judy admitted. “Wait, it’s moving.”

  “It’s pointed due west now,” Viv said. “Definitely downtown.”

  I grumbled, but obediently crossed the river and made my way into the warren of one-way streets that was Portland’s city center. Viv gave me directions. “Stay on 6 th—no, sorry, take the next left—”

  “I can’t take the next left!”

  “Then the next next left.”

  “This place wasn’t made for cars,” Judy said. “Not that walking is a hardship, if you live nearby.”

  “I don’t believe you ever walked anywhere in your life,” Viv said.

  “I walked to school when I was in fourth grade.”

  “That doesn’t count.”

  “Would you both stay focused!” I demanded. “Burnside’s coming up and I need to know right or left.”

  “Right,” they chorused. I put on my turn signal and made the turn.

  “Okay, I think we need to get on Broadway,” Viv said.

  “Why Broadway?”

  “I’ve got a hunch.” She wouldn’t be any more specific than that. I turned onto Broadway and headed roughly southwest again.

  “The arrow’s steadied,” Judy said. “I think we’re getting close.”

  “I know we’re getting close,” Viv said.

  “Why?”

  “Because this is the way to Jeremiah’s apartment.” She pointed ahead to where a confusing intersection led in five directions. “Stay on Broadway.”

  Almost immediately the city vanished. Broadway, which hadn’t exactly been broad in the first place, narrowed down to one lane in both directions, and trees and bushes rose up thickly on either side of the road. It was like a quiet country lane in the middle of the city, dark and overgrown and sinister, with the leaves silvered by the moonlight. Branches lashed in the wind, promising a storm to come. I slowed instinctively, feeling like an intruder in this space.

  Houses and condos flashed past on both sides, with cars occasionally parked at the side of the road in complete disregard for possible collisions. I could see the shoulders were wide enough, but that didn’t keep me from cringing every time I came close. I slowed again. The arrow still pointed straight ahead, if you could call the winding road “straight.”

  “Get ready to turn right,” Viv said.

  “Viv, what if you’re wrong?”

  “Then we get back on the road and follow the arrow.” Viv was leaning forward, peering into the dimness. “It’s the next right. It’s hard to see—turn now!”

  I cranked the wheel and turned up a driveway that was so overgrown it was barely recognizable as such. It sloped upward alarmingly; getting up it after a winter storm, with ice covering the ground, would be almost impossible. I gunned the engine and slowly made it up the incline and out of the green tunnel surrounding it.

  At the top of the slope was a wide gravel yard with a couple of cars parked in it. Beyond the yard, a row of two-story apartment units backed into a hedge of rhododendrons, beyond which were enough trees to be called a forest. The apartments were gray in the moonlight, warmed in places by lit windows, and looked as out of place in that wilderness as the cars did. I pulled into a spot near the driveway and turned off the engine. “What now?”

  “Look,” Viv said. The arrow pointed toward the apartments. “I was right.”

  “I can’t believe Jeremiah’s still here,” Judy said. “He has to know they’re looking for him.”

  “Let’s check it out.” Viv dug in her pocket. “I’ve got a key.”

  We crunched across the gravel toward the apartments. I didn’t bother trying to be stealthy, because I was terrible at it, but I did my best not to be too noticeable. Viv strode ahead of us, stuffing the hamster ball into one of her capacious pockets. Aside from our footsteps, the air was still, singing with the high-pitched whine you can only hear when everything’s really quiet. My breath puffed out of me in pale clouds. I glanced at Judy, who had her gloved hands stuffed in her coat pockets. She looked annoyed, probably because she hadn’t worn a heavier coat.

  Viv stopped at the second door from the end on the ground floor and knocked. The windows of this apartment were dark, with no light coming from deeper within, no movement. She knocked again, then inserted the key into the lock. Quietly, she turned the knob and pushed the door open. “It smells empty,” she said.

  “What does ‘empty’ smell like?” Judy said.

  “Unused. No cooking smells, no body odors—I mean like soap or cologne or stuff like that, though Jeremiah doesn’t wear cologne.”

  Viv held the door open and gestured to us to enter. The room was completely black except for the lighter rectangle where the moon shone through the drapes. Viv shut the door and turned the light on.

  “Viv!”

  “There isn’t anyone here. And I bet Lucia’s people have already searched this place and moved on.” She sounded disappointed. I looked around. It wasn’t a large apartment. The front room was divided in half by a leather sectional, and a table and chairs stood on the other side. The small kitchen, visible from the living room, had dark wooden cabinets and a white refrigerator that looked too big for the room. A couple of fridge magnets held coupons to its unmarked surface. A short hallway with four doors led deeper into the apartment. “Jeremiah’s bedroom, and his familiar’s room. The hall closet. And the bathroo
m.”

  I gingerly peeked into the first room. It was bare of furniture and the carpet and pad had been rolled up and stowed in the closet, leaving the floor bare concrete. A wire cage stood in the far corner. Its door was open. The room stank of paint thinner, the smell of a familiar. I pinched my nose shut and closed the door.

  Viv was standing in the doorway to Jeremiah’s bedroom. It was a wreck—the bed unmade, clothes heaped on the floor, drawers pulled out and dumped on the bed. The closet was empty except for a few hangers. “Is this…this isn’t how it always looks, is it?”

  Viv shook her head. “They must have tossed the place. But where is he?”

  “Come and look at this,” Judy said.

  We joined her in the small bathroom, which also smelled of paint thinner. “He was too smart for us,” Judy said, twitching aside the Wonder Woman shower curtain. A puddle of green goo, a couple of scales, and a limp harness lay in a pile at the bottom of the tub. “He destroyed his familiar.”

  “But…why?” I asked. “You said no one’s ever thought to do what we did.”

  “That doesn’t mean he couldn’t think of it too. And if he’s on the run, a familiar is a liability.” Judy dropped the curtain and rubbed her palms on her thighs. “So much for our cunning plan.”

  Outside, branches scratched at the small bathroom window, which creaked in the rising wind. “I’m not giving up,” Viv said. “We’re going to find him and…and convince him…”

  “Of what? I hate to say it, Viv, but this looks increasingly like he’s guilty.”

  “He can’t be!” Viv shouted. “He loves me. How could someone that evil love anyone?”

  The window creaked again. Then it shattered, showering us with glass shards. We all shrieked and covered our faces. I looked up in time to see thin branches thrusting their way through the window opening, slithering along like bark-covered snakes bristling with leaves. The branches grabbed us, bound our hands and pressed us against the walls. I ended up with one foot in the tub and the other awkwardly outside it, straddling the edge and hoping I didn’t have my foot in what was left of Jeremiah’s familiar.