by Allie Burton
“Every other vessel has been accessible to an average person.” A stiff wind blew her hair in front of her face and she pushed it away.
He wanted to tangle his fingers in the strands and pull her close. He wanted to stay by her side. She brought light into his life. Real light, not the fake light of falsehoods. “The lights!”
Now he totally understood how she’d come up with Lombard Street while they’d kissed. It all made perfect sense.
“Which light?” Her expression brightened. She didn’t doubt or question him. She believed in him.
“Let’s count.” He turned and counted the light poles they’d already passed and then continued to count walking the entire expanse of the bridge in silence. “Twenty-four regular light poles and twelve decorative ones.”
She leaned against the railing. “That’s a lot of poles to climb and search.”
“Yeah.” The assurance in his voice plummeted and his gaze dimmed. They couldn’t give up, though. The world depended on them.
“Well, it’s not in that one across the roadway. Or the one further down.” She pointed with her finger.
He threw his arms up like he’d just scored a homerun. “I’ve been thinking that super sight must be one of your powers. On the cliffs you saw the handgun and binoculars.”
“You think?” Her breathing came in uneven pants of excitement. “That decorative filigree of the light is shaped into delicate curlicues, like a 1920’s Tiffany lamp Fitch once stole.”
“You can see that?” Xander’s voice rose. If she could see items that small surely, she could spot the next oil container.
“You can’t see the light bulb?”
“I can see where the light is, but I can’t see the details.”
“Can you see the burnt-out filament inside the bulb?”
“Nope.”
“I’ve been seeing things more clearly. Like the Egyptian writing on the spine of the book in the painting or the hieroglyphics on the Nilometer. Or the pay phone…”
“What pay phone?”
Her skin paled and her body wavered. “I hadn’t even realized I’ve been using my power. I’m going to burnout quicker.”
“I know you’re scared,” He wanted to give her a big hug, to comfort her and tell her things were going to be okay. But he didn’t know that, and he couldn’t lie to her. “This is important. Look at the lights.”
Her eyes grew larger, like a deer caught in a spotlight. She stretched her neck and blew out a breath.
Worry niggled inside like a worm in the dirt. He didn’t want her to use her powers either, but they didn’t have any other choice. “It’s the best way to figure out if the oil vessel is in one of the light standards.”
“Do you think I’ll use too much power? Burnout quicker?” Her voice rose.
“Once we have the oils, we can figure out how to stop the burnout.” The portion of the page he’d ripped from the directions burned in his pocket. At the time, hiding in his hidey hole inside his closet, stealing the final instructions seemed appropriate. He hadn’t known if he could trust her and didn’t want to give her false hope.
Continuing to walk, he kept an eye on her, the few people walking on the bridge, and the minimal cars driving by. Taking her time, she scanned each light pole. They walked one way and then the next, like many tourists did in the daytime. But while the tourists were admiring the scenery of the cliffs on the Marin side, the tall buildings in San Francisco, and the islands of Angel and Alcatraz, she gazed at each pole from all sides.
The fog covered the famed arches above, and most of the view. They were isolated like figures in a snow globe but instead of being encased by water and flakes, they were surrounded by fog.
“I think I found it.” She stopped and pointed at a pole near the Marin side. “There.”
“Are you sure?” He leaned against the railing and peered, unable to see anything.
“It’s an odd shape that stuck out and it has a flash of gold.”
She climbed onto the railing to get a higher view. “That’s it. The vessel has etchings of two figures mixing something.” She jumped off the railing with a bounce and looked at him. “How are we going to get it down?”
His shoulders straightened. He liked that she looked to him to help solve the problem. Since he didn’t host King Tut, his new role would be advisor, protector, and the muscle.
“I’ll shimmy to the top of the pole.” Xander strolled toward the correct pole. “You keep a look out for the police. I don’t want them thinking I’m a jumper.”
He scuffed the bottom of his shoes and wiped the palms of his hands on his pants. Running his fingers around the pole, he felt the slickness of the paint. The pole wasn’t tall like some of the others on the bridge because it was a decorative light.
Biting his lip, he watched a lone car drive by. The Golden Gate Bridge would never be completely empty, but this was close. “Here I go.”
He grabbed hold of the pole with both hands and pulled himself up. Clinging to the light pole, he kicked his feet onto the rail. Water rushed hundreds of yards below. Swells reflected off the bridge lighting. Nerves zinged like a guitar string.
Wrapping his legs around the pole, he inched his way higher. Just like climbing trees out at the Society’s home south of the city. Only a few more feet. While he climbed, he stared at the light hoping the vessel would come into focus. He reached, stretching his arm toward the decorative holder that Olivia said held the oil.
His fingers enveloped around the cold container. He felt the scratches that must be the etching she’d described.
“Got it.” His words rushed on a breath of relief.
He slid to the ground and a smile burst on his face. An answering grin showed on Olivia’s face. It was like the sun bursting—big, bright, and powerful. So powerful, he almost melted from its brilliance.
Instead of hugging her like he wanted, he held out the oil and dropped it into her palm. She stuck the small jar into the backpack. Together, they turned toward the city.
A man of medium build shuffled in their direction about fifty yards away. His hunched shoulders and frail frame shouted menace because he walked like he was trying not to be noticed.
“Fitch,” she muttered through gritted teeth.
Xander’s skin itched like the clothes he wore had become uncomfortable, which was possible because they were the same disgustingly, dirty clothes he’d worn for days. How had the man found them?
Olivia’s gaze darted to him and back to the man. She stopped, appearing nervous.
The man’s sinister grin reminded him of the devil. Hard lines stamped around Fitch’s eyes. Not a compromising type of man. The sharp, pointy nose looked down on them. A greedy glint shined in his eyes as if they were a task, something to be scratched off his list.
“What’re you doing here, Fitch?” Her voice sounded strong even though Xander sensed her trembling.
Fitch kept his hands in his pockets, cool and calm. “We just talked last night.”
Xander flinched. His chest tightened and heat rose behind his eyelids. She’d talked to the man last night?
“What.” His voice deepened, as deep as the black hole he’d fallen into.
She licked her lips and begged with her eyes. “I can explain.”
Could she? The tightening around his chest strained against his lungs and heart. She must’ve snuck away and made the call while he’d been sleeping.
“You don’t need to explain anything to him.” Fitch took another step closer, but not too close. “I assume you retrieved the final oil as we discussed.”
“No, we didn’t discuss—”
Huffing, Xander scuffed at the ground like a bull seeing red. She hadn’t listened to him. She’d betrayed him. “You lied to me.”
“I didn’t.”
“And you were here on the Golden Gate Bridge just like you said.” Fitch’s over-confident smirk set warning alarms off.
“I never—”
“You tol
d him where we’d be?” Xander dropped the last word like a bomb of disbelief. Puffs of steam swirled in his head.
She held up a shaky hand. “Let me explain.”
“Yes, Olivia. Why don’t you explain to Xander how you called me and told me to pick you up here.” Fitch knew Xander’s name. The man wasn’t lying.
She waved her hands around. “Last night while you were sleeping, I called Fitch—”
His heart felt as if it was shrinking. She’d made the call even though he’d told her not to. In his blind stupidity, he’d agreed to call Fitch later. “Without telling me.”
“I knew how much you were against it.” She wrung her hands together.
“Yet you did it anyhow behind my back.” His pitch lowered to a quiet angry.
“Olivia does what I say.” Fitch’s lip curled into a nasty snarl.
Xander was losing her. The tightness around his chest loosened and his heart thudded dully. This man was a father figure to Olivia. All she’d wanted from the beginning was to return to him. Xander had talked her into this crazy, dangerous adventure. She’d only wanted to go home.
Fitch’s bulging forehead and small, beady eyes set a target on Xander. His crooked nose and his harsh mouth spewed contempt. His pointy chin and the deep, ugly lines on his skin showed his hard living. He wanted to harm Xander, and Olivia didn’t care. If she had, she wouldn’t have made the call and agreed to meet the man.
“Yes. I do whatever Fitch says.” Her voice trembled and her skin grew even paler. She gnawed on her bottom lip before she straightened. “And yes, I betrayed you Xander.”
Had their connection been in his imagination? They’d touched physically, emotionally, and intellectually. “I don’t believe you.”
“Believe her.” Fitch angled his head in a direct threat.
Xander crossed his arms in a big no trespassing sign. He didn’t know what to believe.
“It’s true. I played you. Used you to get the oils.” As if each letter was a knife, the words shredded his heart.
She’d used him for information and for assistance getting the oils. She had almost all of them now. In his backpack on her back.
The urge to rip the bag off trembled through him. “I was blind to Jeb and the Society and what they planned to do. I believed the Society when they told me I would rule the world, that I deserved Tut’s power. You opened my eyes.” How could she not see? Xander fisted his hands, wanting to shake sense into her. “But your eyes are still squeezed tightly closed. You don’t want to see what’s in front of you.”
Me.
He was standing in front of her. His love and his protection.
“I see.” She huffed out a shaky breath. “It’s you who doesn’t understand how the world works. People want power, not love.”
“Even you?”
“Even me.” She lifted her chin in a defiant fashion.
“You might have super vision, but you don’t really see.” Shaking his head, he pointed to his eyes and then placed his palm on his chest. “You don’t feel.”
He couldn’t swallow. His mouth became dessert dry. He’d lost her. When only minutes ago they’d stood on the bridge, palm to palm, and connected. They’d shared kisses in the water, and conversations. He’d believed they’d meant more.
“Isn’t this sweet?” Fitch wriggled his body but kept his hands in his pockets. It was as if he wanted to strangle Xander and was trying to keep control.
“I do feel.” Olivia murmured as if she didn’t want to be heard.
But he heard. Heard everything she’d said. “For me?”
She shook her head back and forth in slow motion. Each shake confused, making him dizzy.
“I’ve been deceived and used my entire life. I thought you were different.” His jaw tightened. “Was I wrong?”
“Yes.” Her cold, hard response was loud enough for Fitch to hear. Loud enough for the universe to hear.
Loud enough for her answer to jab into his heart and cut with the precision of a sharp scalpel. The pain sliced and dread infused his bloodstream, carrying through his body a sense of loss and despair.
“I’ll protect you. Won’t let you get hurt.” The words passed over numb lips. He felt stupid begging, but he couldn’t stop himself. He’d die for her.
She smiled with thin, cruel lips. “You’re an inexperienced, sheltered, sixteen-year-old boy.” She chose words she knew would hurt him. “Fitch is like a father to me.”
Xander jolted and his ears buzzed. “But…we agreed on what needed to be done. Thought we wanted to work together. Be toge—”
“You thought wrong.” Her eyes narrowed and turned glacial. Her lips twisted in an evil smirk. Her expression is what finally convinced him.
“You’re choosing Fitch over me.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Olivia
My heart screamed. Not only did I want Xander with me on this quest, but I wanted him with me forever. Wanted his support and caring. Wanted his intelligence and strength. Wanted his protection and love.
But what I wanted most of all was for him to survive. And to do that I had to force him to leave. I’d been thinking about it for awhile. If we didn’t find the last oil, we wouldn’t be able to bargain with the Society. And if we had nothing to bargain with, I’d need to call on Fitch for help. And I didn’t want to expose Xander to my past life. He’d be better off on his own.
“Yes.” The raw word scraped out of my sore throat. The blackness covered all of my internal hope and light. A shadow would live in my heart forever.
I searched his beloved face. He still had a life to live. If he wasn’t with me, didn’t insist on being my bodyguard, he’d never go up against Fitch. Xander would be better off. Losing him would kill me, but I was probably going to die anyhow. No point in taking him along for the boat ride down the River Styxx. This was an opportunity handed to me. I needed to push him away. Hard. I had to be harsh, mean, cruel.
And I needed to convince Fitch I felt nothing for Xander. Or pushing Xander away still wouldn’t keep him safe because Fitch would never give up crushing any connection I might have to the outside world.
“Yes,” I said again.
Xander’s lips hardened into a thin, harsh line.
“You heard her, boy.” Fitch pounded a foot forward. “Olivia, we have some place to be.”
Something stopped me from moving forward. I analyzed the man I once thought of as a father-figure. Had he changed, or had I? He ruled the family with an iron fist. If he was disobeyed, everyone in the family paid and I couldn’t do that to the other kids.
“Say it.” Xander barely moved his lips to speak.
He was shutting down. Shutting me out. Which was good. Forcing him to leave, to hate me, had to be done. To save him.
“Say it!” His terse voice ripped through my soul.
I quivered inside but held steady on the outside. Now was the time to put whatever acting skills I had to use. Even though my heart cracked, I stuck my chest out. Even though my eyes burned with unshed tears, I refused to cry. Even though my mouth ached from forcing my lips up, I continued to smile.
“I’m choosing Fitch over you.” Like the slice of a dull knife, I cut myself deeply.
Xander took a single, solitary step. I felt like my leg had been ripped from its hip.
“Where are you going?” I needed to know he had a place to go.
“What does it matter to you?” He turned his back. His dark hair glinted in the dull moonlight. He threw his shoulders back in a stiff, soldier-like stance. Then he walked, his long legs striding away at a fast clip.
It matters. But I couldn’t say it out loud. Couldn’t show him any hope of us being together because if I did, he wouldn’t leave, and Fitch would figure out my plan.
“Let’s go, Olivia.” Normally impatient, he would’ve grabbed me and shoved me in the direction he wanted me to go, but he didn’t. Interesting that he didn’t touch me. Didn’t try to force me to move on.
Maybe,
somewhere in his misguided heart, he understood the pain I was going through.
Each step Xander took pounded on the pavement like a gong in my head. It announced the end of our partnership, of our relationship, of our more-than-friends-ship. I took one last look at his proud back.
He didn’t understand my sacrifice, and probably never would, but what I’d done had been right. He’d be free to live his own life. He’d be out of danger. He wouldn’t have to worry about being zapped. Just like Tina and Doug would be better off without me if I couldn’t end this curse.
And if I ended this curse and survived, I was going to insist Tina and Doug be turned over to the foster care system. It hadn’t worked for me, but it would be better for the twins not to grow up with a man like Fitch. My shoulders trembled. If I didn’t die, I’d be back at Fitch’s and demanding a better life for all the younger kids.
My soul ached with loss of Xander. My heart echoed the pain. My brain already knew the answer.
I’d never find anyone like Xander again. He was my soulmate. And I’d forced him to hate me.
I had to believe Fitch would help end the burnout. He needed me. At this point, I didn’t have any other choice. Sure, he disappeared from the museum, but he’d sent the entire family looking for me. Although the kids had started looking for me after I’d agreed to call Fitch when my task was complete. And he’d lied about me telling him to meet here tonight. My thoughts wavered like a barge on the Nile.
“Let’s go, missy.” His tone blasted my thoughts.
“You got the final vessel, right?” Fitch’s voice sounded dark and untrustworthy as we started walking north toward Marin County.
In the opposite direction of Xander.
“Yes.” I clutched the strap of the backpack that hung on my right shoulder. Only six vessels lay inside.
Why was I suspicious of everything about a man I once trusted? He walked beside me making no move to take the backpack. He didn’t ask about the amulet, which had been the prize he’d wanted that fateful night. My discomfort grew with the tension. The waves rushing below magnified our silence. An urge to run overwhelmed me.