It was good timing, too, because she received a response just as the gate started to open on its own.
Nadine entered first, ushering Lisa in.
Approaching them from the front steps was a man with incredibly feminine features, his face elven in a way, his hair slicked back and his nose hooked.
“I see,” he said as he shook Nadine’s hand, Lisa’s form brightening. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Lisa,” he told the glowing young woman, a grin plastered across his face. “Now, I can’t say for certain that this will work, but I have a good feeling about it, and I’m the type of person that trusts his instincts.”
Chapter Forty-One: From Hunting Vampires to Hunting Kevin
Margo raised some of the cement from the roof of the building, making a chair with armrests for herself. Her hood was down, but she still had the bottom portion of her face hidden by a mask of sorts, something she had grown accustomed to wearing ages ago hunting vampires in the West.
It had been a formidable part of her upbringing as a young spy, getting assigned to some of the literal haunts where the vampires lived and snuffing them out, destroying them.
The vampirism was a sickness, really, a strange power that spread from person to person. Easier to classify it as vampiric than what it really was, a contagion, an original exemplar with a twisted ability that let him spread his sickness to others.
Calling these others vampires gave the limited Western Province government some leeway with sudden and violent action, which included Margo.
Seeing the sun rise reminded her of these times, a chapter of her life now closed, as there wasn’t an early-morning that went by without her feeling lucky to have made it through the night.
Now Margo was most assuredly the hunter, no longer the hunted, having long ago given up that lifestyle for something more administrative at first, yet something that later forced her to occasionally act.
Not that she minded taking action; no, the hunt was what Margo lived for, and there’d been dozens of times she’d sent operatives out while wishing she could have been the person going instead, especially if those operatives died.
Especially if one of them was a woman she’d once been in love with.
Paris.
Margo remembered meeting the woman with elastic abilities for the first time and feeling immediately attracted to her—her dark hair, her dimples, her supermodel figure. Only in the Western Province would a woman of her beauty become a spy. Had Paris been born in Centralia…
But Paris had been born in the West, which meant she was ruthless, something Margo had taken a liking to in the dark-haired beauty almost immediately. Yet it would have been inappropriate for her to make any sort of move, and for a long time she didn’t.
As she had been taught to do, Margo merely played a role in monitoring Paris’s various operations. But it was Paris who had invited her out for dinner, and then wine, and then…
After it had happened, Margo had wanted to go back to the West to hunt whatever vampires were left, start over again.
But Paris hadn’t let her.
The woman had been firm, wild, not one to take no for an answer.
And for a while, it had lasted, but eventually it had been Paris who wanted to say no, no matter how loudly Margo wanted to scream yes.
So they’d parted amicably, Margo still her handler, but with less restraints on Paris because she knew better than to get too close.
And over the last eight months, part of Margo had entertained the idea of reaching back out to Paris, taking things slower this time, moving more at Paris’s pace rather than Margo’s, and even just a few weeks ago she’d been on the verge of doing so, literally making her way to Paris’s home before deciding not to.
And how different would things have been if she had made that push? Would Margo have been with Paris when she’d first met Roman? Would she have seen this Kevin fellow and been able to track him, prevent him from escaping? What would she have done with the cat girls? She had always found the two to be questionable.
And then there was poor Ian, the big red man destined for a concrete grave. That would never have happened had Margo been around. As soon as Roman revealed his powers, she would have brought the man to his knees, filled his mouth with rubble and exploded his organs from the inside.
Turned his bones to snakes, strangled him with his own hair, drowned him in his own spit and blood.
Margo’s options would have been endless, and as she looked out at the rising sun, she took some comfort in knowing that once she did finally meet Roman, it would be an easy fight. And Kevin? The odds of him getting killed before she got to him were higher than not.
“Are you all right?” Hazrat asked. The shadow manipulator approached her from the side, flanked by Ian and Celia, a dark sky overhead and the breeze on the rooftop all but dead.
It didn’t take much of Margo’s power to maintain two walking corpses, and she had honed her ability enough to strip them of any personality or opinions. They were simply drones, guards in a way, even though Celia’s only power would be to throw herself at someone.
At least Ian could replicate the power he’d had when he was alive, meaning Celia was mostly for show.
“I need to be honest with you,” Margo said without looking at Hazrat.
“Yes?”
Margo would take the fact that she’d killed Hazrat’s wife to the grave.
It had been useful to bait him, but this was one thing she absolutely didn’t want the shadow exemplar to know. She was also aware that Hazrat had almost left, that he could have escaped with his wife’s body back to the South and there was nothing Margo could have done about it.
Yet he’d returned, a loyal subject, and a powerful one at that.
So she’d decided half the truth would work for now.
“The person who did this to a dear friend of mine wasn’t Roman, as I told you earlier.”
“Speaking of Roman, I wanted to talk about what I learned from Harper and her roommate. I’ve put together quite the little surprise for him when he returns.”
“In a minute; let me finish,” Margo said, taking the lead as always. “The man who killed Paris is a man named Kevin, but he is an associate of Roman’s. To give you a backstory you’ve yet to hear…”
Margo went on to explain who Kevin was, the Hero Ticket he’d purchased, how Roman had stolen it from his desk after Kevin had attempted suicide, then how Roman had used the ticket to get his current power. She explained that Kevin, due to his name, had been confused with his twin brother by the cat girls, that they’d kidnapped him, that Paris had decided to use him as leverage instead of killing him, and that even while all this was happening, Kevin didn’t know Roman had stolen the ticket that would have made him an exemplar and Roman didn’t know Kevin was alive.
“Ironic,” Hazrat finally said, twisting the end of his mustache.
“Indeed.” Margo looked from the sun to the powerful man from the West, a few shadows trembling in the foreground, something she had noticed several times when she was around Hazrat. “I should also say that Ian, the man who stands behind you, worked for Paris as well. In fact, like you, Roman did some immigration work for him.”
“Well, apparently he didn’t send Ian to jail…” Hazrat growled.
“Because Ian knew better than to throw a tantrum in a government office. But that’s beside the point. Paris was starting to feel that Roman was slipping away from her, so she called him for a meeting, an ultimatum. He revealed his power in this meeting and killed Ian. He was just about to kill Paris when she agreed to work with him.”
“Work with him on what?”
“Healers—or really, the lack thereof.” Margo paused to let this sink in. “Believe it or not, Centralia has killed nearly all the healers in this world, and according to the information Paris received, there is only one healer left. This is precisely what Kevin was trying to get from her before he killed her. He wanted a location, but Paris didn’t know it.”
“He killed her over a healer?”
“Precisely. And I don’t know why.”
“And you’re thinking if we find where this healer is being held, we will eventually find Kevin?” Hazrat asked.
“I know damn well we will find Kevin.”
“And do you know where this healer is?”
Margo took a deep breath. Her focus was somewhere between Hazrat and the rising sun, somewhere on the horizon, away from here. “No, not yet.”
They were quiet for a moment, both of them watching a grapefruit-red sun rise from the horizon.
“Roman hasn’t returned to Centralia yet, has he?” Margo finally asked, changing the topics.
“I was about to tell you about that, but no. He’s still in the East, and I’ve set a trap for when he comes back.”
“Then we have time to go after Kevin before he returns,” said Margo.
“And how should we go about doing that?”
“As I said earlier, Kevin has a twin brother who is high up in the Centralian government. My educated guess is that he’s asked his brother to give him the location.”
“And if we pay his brother a visit, we can ask as well,” Hazrat said, finishing her thought. “Do you know anything about their relationship?”
“It’s rocky at best.” Margo stood, and the chair she’d made from the rooftop material melted away, reforming into a solid surface. “That settles it. Let’s pay his brother a visit today—no, tonight. I really need to get some rest. Celia, Ian, come with me.”
The two living corpses waited for Margo to pass and then followed behind her, leaving Hazrat on the roof alone.
Chapter Forty-Two: Nature Walk
Roman had almost drifted off to sleep when Nadine returned, a redness to her cheeks, her dirty-blond hair now pulled into a bun at the back of her head. She held a bag with the print of a local bakery on it and before she could ask, Roman formed a seat for her as well, plus a table between them, all made out of their wooded surroundings.
“That’s convenient,” she said as she sat down and placed the bag on the table. Nadine tested its sturdiness and nodded, impressed.
“I wish you would make us a bed,” said Casper. “I still haven’t gotten my beauty rest. And just if anyone’s asking, it’s way too early to be going on a hike.”
The tiny doll sat on Roman’s shoulder, one leg crossed over the other, her hands at her sides holding on to the fabric of his jacket in case he shifted positions.
“It’s a nice day out,” said Celia, who sat directly next to Roman with a light, happy look on her face.
“We don’t go outside enough,” Coma added. Roman’s sometimes-enforcer was resting with her back against Celia’s shoulder, her legs over the armrest of Roman’s makeshift chair.
“Thank you for bringing food,” Roman said. “I’m starving.”
“Glad I could provide sustenance.” Nadine opened the bag and handed him a small meat pie. “Apparently these are local specialties, so they should hit the spot.”
Roman examined it for a moment and took a bite. It was good. The strange spice of the potatoes inside was a new experience for him, but it was filling nonetheless. He ate it quickly and went for another, waiting for Nadine to say something.
He had the feeling she was holding back on him, a sneaking suspicion, and not one he normally felt with her. Well, he did sometimes, but this feeling was likely triggered by the conversation he’d had with Lisa last night, so he disregarded the thought, planning to give Nadine the benefit of the doubt until she played all her cards, if that time ever came.
“So we’re just going to find some type of tribe?” Casper asked. “Isn’t that what you said, Roman? In that case, I think I’ll be dozing in a pocket for the rest of the day.”
“It’s not really a tribe. They are a semi-nomadic people that live in homes they’ve made on various sides of the mountain depending on the season,” Nadine explained. “I don’t know how often they migrate, but like I said previously, they’re called reindeer people because when they do migrate, they do so riding reindeer.”
“This is what happens when we leave the city,” the tiny doll complained to Roman. “We go from civilization to people riding around mountains on reindeer. I just want you to think about this next time one of the others says we need to go outside more.”
“It’s nice outside,” Celia told Casper. “Don’t you think so?”
“It’s also nice inside, where there aren’t insects, dirt, and strange people.”
“We’ll be back inside soon enough,” Coma told her as Roman went for another meat pie.
He found it fascinating listening to the three of them speak to each other, as if his brain were getting in an argument with itself.
Weird way to think about it, but since they had all been imbued with portions of his personality, hearing them talk almost mimicked the way his brain worked in its most manic state, competing ideas, the inner debate, and oftentimes no clear winner aside from whoever suggested sleep.
Eventually, sleep always won.
As he ate and the dolls debated the merits of outside versus inside, Roman recalled his experience with Celia last night.
He had known going into it that it was an inevitability, that eventually having beautiful women around who mirrored his behaviors (especially the softer side of him completely sculpted by his deceased wife) would lead to a sexual encounter.
There had already been one encounter with Coma and Harper, although that had been a little bit different than what he’d experienced with Celia, and now that he had officially had sex with one, Roman felt a great weight lifted from his shoulders.
Only to be replaced by another heavy force.
He didn’t want to get into a philosophical debate about what he had just done, but Roman knew his mind well enough to know it would definitely be on the forefront until he accepted it for what it was. And really, there was nothing wrong with what he had done. While one could argue it was more similar to masturbation than actual sex, both spawned the same result.
“I think we all need to take a long bath when we get back to the city,” said Casper.
“You have to be careful when you bathe,” Roman joked with her. “You could drown.”
“I’m pretty sure my new body will be available once we get back, so go ahead, give me hell now while I’m just a little one,” she said, taunting him. “I’ll have my revenge when I’m full-sized.”
Roman snapped his mouth shut, much to Nadine’s amusement.
She had been actively listening to the debate between the three dolls, and she seemed to be finding their interaction with Roman comical.
Part of Roman wished this moment could go on for just a little bit longer, a nice breakfast in a densely wooded area, away from exemplars and non-exemplars alike.
But they had other plans, and he really didn’t know how long their journey would take them, or what they would find at its end.
Once the meat pies were finished and he had returned the furniture he’d created to the soil, Roman and Nadine set off to the northeast, continuing along the trail cut into the woods.
Roman had seen trails like these before, trails kept alive by people’s feet rather than any type of landscaping, and as they walked, he wondered how long Easterners had been using the path.
A light breeze kicked up, rustling through the orange leaves, acorns and other nuts falling. Something small and furry zipping into the underbrush just a few feet ahead of them. With each breath in Roman felt more alive, like he was closer to the source of oxygen than he had been in Centralia, or in Brattle for that matter.
He tuned Casper out, who continued to talk about nature and why, at her size, it gave her the creeps.
For now, Roman wanted to enjoy the quiet and the smells of nature, and to forget about the complications in his life, even if one of those complications was standing in his front jacket pocket.
“We should be ahead of them by now,” Nadine said about two h
ours later.
With dense woods all around, Roman could hardly tell which way they had come from. Even the path was hard to see, almost nonexistent at points, which made him believe Nadine must have grown up near the woods, an adventurous tomboy of sorts—something he’d also picked up from a few of their conversations.
“It’s just like home,” Nadine said, solidifying Roman’s assumption. “I grew up pretty far from here, but this path feels the exact same. I know that sounds crazy, but what I’m saying is we have the same types of trees in our region. The paths are marked the same way…”
“The path is marked?” he asked.
“You didn’t notice?” Nadine stopped and looked around for moment. “There, do you see that bush?”
There was a bush in front of a tree, its leaves now red. Near it was an overturned stone, the ground wet beneath it.
“That’s marking the path?”
“Yes, it is,” she explained. “And believe it or not, the leaves never fall from that bush. In the fall they’re red, in the winter they’re orange, in the spring they’re pink, and in the summer they’re yellow. It looks pretty amazing in the winter, especially with all the snow around. The winding path that led up to my parents’ home was surrounded by these bushes.”
“Someone planted them all the way out here? So far away from the city?” Celia asked.
“That’s right,” said Nadine as they made their way down a small hill. They came to a bubbling brook, some of the water blocked by something an animal had made upstream. Roman crouched in front of the water, noticing there were small fish moving beneath it.
He placed his hand in and noticed the water was ice cold. Roman pulled his hand out and shook some of the water away, wiping the rest on the back of his pants.
“Thirsty?” Nadine pulled a pouch of water out from the bag flung over her shoulder.
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