"Not you too," said Zayn, peeking from his lair.
"Zayn. You need to get up. We're going to help you," he said.
Zayn sighed. "For one, you can't help me. Them's the rules. And two, I've got this. I've just been busy. I promise you."
Vin kicked the bed. "Get up. We're not letting you get kicked out."
"You four are more persistent than a dog after peanut butter," said Zayn, sitting up and letting the covers slip to the floor.
"What's this?" asked Portia, poking a bag under the bed with her boot.
"Nothing of consequence," said Zayn with a smirk.
Portia put her hands on her hips. "You are planning something."
Zayn let a smile color the edges of his lips.
"Why didn't you tell us?" asked Skylar. "We're your teammates."
Zayn slapped away Keelan's hand as he was trying to peek into the bag. "Trust me, you don't want to get in there."
"What is it?" asked Vin, eyes glittering with excitement. "A bag of vipers? A ferocious badger that you're going to throw into Allgood's face while rushing into the room and taking the coin?"
Zayn yawned, stretching his arms. "None of those things. Really, you should trust me."
"Trust you!" said Portia, laughing as she pushed him over. "I suspect that if we keep trusting you, we're going to end up either buried in treasure and glory or dead."
"Probably both," said Keelan. "You wouldn't believe the things he got us into when we were kids."
"If the first year in the Academy is any indication, then I don't envy your childhood. You're lucky to be alive," said Vin, the corners of his lips curled upward.
"So when are you going to tell us what the plan is?" asked Skylar.
Zayn chuckled. "I was really hoping to get some breakfast and a cup of coffee, but I don't think you're going to let me do that. Shall we go get my coin?"
"Go get my coin?" asked Skylar incredulously. "He says it like he's going shopping."
Vin crossed his arms. "You realize that Instructor Allgood has been camped in his room, vigilantly monitoring the box of coins the last few days. If you get your coin, this will be the first time a student got one in the last month of the year, and he's not about to let that happen."
"I hope he gets used to disappointment," said Zayn, tugging on a black shirt and jeans.
He didn't bother grabbing his shoes, but he did snatch a paint marker and a vial of glitter from his desk, along with the bag from under his bed. The others followed behind like children after the Pied Piper. When they cut through the cafeteria, those present left their plates of scrambled eggs and hash browns to join the procession.
The instructor's door was closed. Zayn set the bag behind him, uncapped the first paint marker, and started drawing a circle of runes.
While he worked, his classmates stood back with their arms crossed and discussed what his strategy to get the named coin might be. There was enough murmuring and noise that Instructor Allgood appeared when he was almost finished with the circle.
"I see you've finally decided to make your move," said Instructor Allgood. "But you're too late, and summoning a demon won't help you here."
"You're right about that," said Zayn without looking up at the instructor as he patiently finished the final rune.
Instructor Allgood grumbled. "What you don't understand is that the trick to getting the coin is to do it early. No one has ever gotten their coin from me in the last month. It's my opinion that procrastinators shouldn't be rewarded. This Academy requires a willingness to take chances, leap before you know if you'll be able to land. Waiting until the last moment is tactically stupid. You've allowed your enemy to define the battlefield. Now you have to come through me to get it."
By this time, the whole group of first years were in the room, along with a couple of fifth years that had been in the Hold at the time. Bets were being passed around the room furiously. To his chagrin, his teammates and cousin were betting heavily on him.
Instructor Allgood stepped right up to the circle and cracked his knuckles. "So what's it going to be? Are you going to try and defeat me in combat? I won't even use my staff."
Zayn ignored the instructor and started chanting from the kneeling position in a loud voice as if he were a worshiper at prayer. Mellifluous nonsense words flowed from his lips as he raised and lowered his arms to give his faux spell some gravity. In general, the more complex a spell, the more spectacular the result. Based on his gyrations, everyone except the instructor backed away. No one wanted to get caught in a harmful spell.
Instructor Allgood, however, stared at Zayn as if he had a horn on his head. His gaze moved back and forth from him to the circle, his forehead growing increasingly knotted with the thought that he should recognize what was happening.
At the apex of his chanting, Zayn unstoppered the bottle of glitter and threw it in the air. A whiff of baby powder and stale beer hit Zayn's nose. Instructor Allgood's annoyance turned to disgust—glitter was the STD of craft supplies, and only used in the most frivolous spells.
"What in the hell are you doing?" asked Instructor Allgood.
When Zayn climbed to his feet, the instructor backed away as if he expected a trick. Instead, Zayn calmly moved the grocery bag into the circle.
Zayn sensed the geist enter the dojo before he saw it. There were cries of surprise from his classmates as if they'd been goosed.
A pink shapeless presence rushed into the dojo, bringing with it a wet sex smell. It swirled around Zayn, running spectral fingers across his skin.
Instructor Allgood didn't know what to make of the sex-geist. Either he'd never seen one before or didn't recognize it.
The pink shape folded around the runed circle, but it couldn't find a way in. It peeled away, presenting itself before Zayn.
"If you do what I asked, then you'll get what I promised you," said Zayn.
Both the geist and Instructor Allgood understood at the same time, but the spectral creature was faster. It'd been snatching dildos and condoms from people for decades, perhaps, so the instructor was no match for a being he couldn't grab as it rushed into the room and liberated the named coin from the box.
It was back and offering the coin to Zayn before Instructor Allgood could stumble back out bewildered. Zayn yanked the bag out of the circle and gave it to the sex-geist, who promptly dropped the coin in his hand before zipping from the room in a whirl of pink smoke.
The stunned silence lasted for two whole heartbeats before the room erupted in laughter and cheers. As his teammates gathered around him, Instructor Allgood stomped back into his room and slammed the door hard enough to shake the walls.
Amid the back-patting, Skylar asked, "What was all that chanting and what was in the bag? I swear I still don't understand what just happened."
"I made up the chanting. I was just doing it to confuse Allgood until the geist could arrive. It was summoned by the glitter I got from a strip joint in the twelfth ward," said Zayn.
"And the bag?"
"I bought their old outfits and some other stuff left in the bar by distracted customers. They were happy to let it go, though based on their looks when they gave me the bag, they probably think I'm a giant pervert. I didn't look because I didn't want to know."
Vin hooked his arm around Zayn's shoulders. "I'm sorry I doubted you. But now that we're flush with winnings, we need to take you out to celebrate!"
"But this time," said Skylar, "no exploding surfer dudes."
"I'm coming along," said Keelan. "I haven't gotten to take my favorite cousin out since we've been in town."
"Don't lie to me, I know Imani is your favorite," said Zayn, laughing.
"Let's go to the wardrobe closet," said Skylar, pulling on Zayn's arm.
"But it's still morning," said Zayn. "I was hoping to get some sleep. I was up all night."
"At a strip joint," said Keelan, "so you'll get no sympathy from us."
"I was working," complained Zayn.
"You can slee
p on the train ride back to Varna," said Vin, grabbing his legs while the others picked him up by the midsection. Within moments, they were victoriously carrying him from the room.
Chapter Forty-Two
Varna, May 2014
The cousins return for a party in their honor
There was something comforting about sitting in the courtyard of the Stack, beneath the sheets of red and yellow cloth, as dusk settled. A warm buzz filled Zayn as if he were a pure note struck and his family completed the harmony. Imani was chasing Keelan with a stick in her hand, making "pew, pew" noises, while his dad directed the twins as they hung crisscrossing holiday lights above the tables. Neveah's melodious singing wafted in from the kitchen along with the smells of jambalaya, while Sela and Aunt Lydia were chatting quietly at the end of the table. Lydia was wearing her prosthetic arm, and the hard lines that normally etched her face were missing.
"You're rather quiet down there," said Maceo from the top of a ladder, holding up a string of lights while the twins wrangled another strand across the courtyard.
"Content," replied Zayn, noticing the hints of gray in his father's Afro. "You never realize how good you have it until you're away for a while."
"It's always your choice to be happy or not, no one else's," said Maceo.
"I know, Dad, I know," said Zayn, taking a sip from his lemonade. "Anything happen while I was gone?"
While Maceo threaded the lights through the other wires and sheets, he said, "They circle and circle the Lady like matter around a black hole. Bo Clovis is sheriff now. He's been working towards that for a long time. I do hope he understands what he's signed up for. There were, of course, the usual marriages and births, I cannot keep up with them, so you'll have to ask your Aunt Lydia if you want to know more on that. Doc broke his leg at the junkyard. I've been over there a time or two to help him out. And this might be of interest to you—some say the Goon has been falling out of favor with the Lady."
While his parents never forbade him from working with the Goon, they frequently made pronouncements about the Goon's troubles—a gentle reminder about the company he kept. Before he'd left, they'd been under the assumption that he had severed ties with the Goon, but that had been a fiction the pair of them had dreamt up. As he'd told Priyanka, the plan was for Zayn to complete his first year and then leave the Academy. And that had been the plan, for the Goon. But that's not what Zayn had intended. He hated having to lie to his family, but he hoped if things went wrong, that the fiction would protect them.
"Everyone eventually disappoints her," said Zayn, rattling the ice in his glass.
When dinner was ready, the family descended on the courtyard like an avalanche. Plates clinked, dishes passed from hand to hand, conversations ebbed and flowed like the tides. The twins had taken spots near Zayn and peppered him with questions about the Hundred Halls.
Due to his mother's raised eyebrow, he tried to wring the color from the city and defuse his siblings' interest in the university, but it was hard, when the place reeked of magic and wonder.
Towards the end of the meal, while enjoying a bowl of ginger mango sorbet, Izzy tugged his sleeve. The blue-haired Izzy handed him a crumpled plastic baggie. A stab of recognition went through his gut.
"This fell out of your pocket," said Izzy, nose wrinkled.
Zayn felt relief when he realized the baggie was empty. "Thanks, Izzy."
"Why do you have a baggie with that basketball symbol?" asked Izzy, then added when Zayn hesitated, "The one from the famous player."
"What?"
The word stumbled out of his mouth. He felt dizzy.
"The basketball symbol," said Izzy, pointing to the upside-down Y.
Zayn looked at it a second time, seeing the person flying through the air with a basketball. It wasn't exactly the same logo, but it'd clearly been derived from it. His brain had been telling him it was an upside-down Y before, but now he couldn't see anything but the basketball version.
"Is something wrong?" asked Sela, stopping the conversation at the whole table. Everyone turned to look at Zayn.
"No. Nothing," said Zayn, hiding his discomfort behind a smile. "Was reminded of a school problem that I got wrong, and just figured out the answer. That it took so long made me feel stupid."
Keelan gave him a funny look, but Zayn shook him off.
"Well, you should put your brain away for a little while," said his mother. "You can solve the world's problems when you go back next year."
"Yes, ma'am."
Conversation resumed its normal hum, leaving Zayn a contemplative moment. He caught Keelan watching him, so he smiled and raised a lemonade glass towards his cousin in salute. Keelan received it with a nod.
After dinner, Zayn worked the sink, hand washing the pots, plates, and silverware while Neveah sat on the counter. Her bead-ended dreads were bound in a red handkerchief.
"You okay?" asked Neveah as she swung her feet.
"Yeah, I survived my first year at the Hundred Halls," said Zayn. "Not every student gets to say that."
"I don't mean that," said Neveah. "You seem different since you've been back."
"I am different," said Zayn. "But also, I'm not. I'm still the same older brother who can braid your hair better than Mom."
Neveah narrowed her gaze. "You've always been at the center of a million plots, but it seems different now, like the stakes are raised."
"That's what happens," said Zayn with an offhanded shrug.
"I don't want you to get hurt," said Neveah.
Zayn sighed and nodded. Then he put his shoulder into the wire brush to get the gunk off the edge of the pot, grunting as he scrubbed. "I don't want to get hurt either."
Neveah lowered her voice. "How's Keelan?"
Zayn paused mid-scrub. He looked back to see her face etched with worry. They shared concern for their cousin, and Zayn hadn't told Neveah even half of the things that had happened when they were growing up.
"He's doing fine," said Zayn. "I think the Halls have been good for him."
Neveah screwed up her mouth, so Zayn added, "Really. I mean it."
"Good," said Neveah. "This family could use a break or two."
"It's good to see Mom and Aunt Lydia together," said Zayn, nodding back towards the courtyard, which prompted Neveah to jump off the counter.
"Oh shit, I told them I'd bring them coffee," said Neveah, grabbing the pot from the coffee maker, and hurrying into the courtyard after sticking her tongue out.
Aunt Lydia and Keelan stayed until late in the night when the full moon had arced across the sky, spilling silver light on the tips of the trees. After they left, Zayn helped his father unplug the holiday lights. Then he headed for the iron steps that led up to his part of the Stack.
Sela caught him before he went into his room. She gave him a long hug and a kiss on the forehead, which had to be delivered with her standing on her tippy-toes. She smelled like lavender.
"I'm so glad you're back, alive and well," said his mother, eyes rounded.
"Me too."
She poked him in the chest with a stern finger. "I know it is your wont to get into schemes, but for my sake this summer, please take a break. No plots, and please, stay away from the Goon."
"I will," he said, kissing her on the forehead. "Good night."
Back in his room, he tugged the cord above his bed to turn out the light. He'd forgotten how loud the insects were in Varna, but at least he didn't have to listen to Vin's snoring. It was good to be home, even if it wasn't really that place anymore.
Zayn waited for an hour before getting back up. Rather than use the stairs, he pulled himself out the window, relying on his imbuement to provide the finger strength necessary to make the hand-over-hand climb down the support wire. When he landed in the dew-soaked grass, he took one look at the Stack before taking off down the gravel road towards the Goon's place.
Chapter Forty-Three
Varna, May 2014
Making right with the Goon
&
nbsp; The Goon's place was a mini-compound in the middle of the woods that surrounded Varna. It was ringed with tall fences topped with curly barbed wire and shock-me runes. Cameras covered every inch of the lawn, which was carefully manicured so no one could approach the house without triggering the motion detectors.
When Zayn first came to the compound, he'd been terrified by the layers of protections, thinking the place impregnable. And for the majority of the population, it was. After only a year at the Academy, Zayn saw fifteen different ways he could get into the house without triggering a single alarm.
But thankfully, he didn't have to circumvent the Goon's protections. He rang the buzzer at the gate, making sure to stare into the camera.
He waited for a couple of minutes, longer than was usual, which started to worry Zayn. But then the gate shuddered into motion, opening wide enough for Zayn to slip through. He made his way up the long drive to the single-story ranch. It didn't look like much from the outside, but the Goon had built down rather than up. There were two more floors beneath the main one.
The Goon appeared in the doorway, straw hat tilted back on his nearly bald head. He had big bags under his eyes and a hand on a pistol at his side.
"Is that you, Zayn?"
Zayn stumbled in his stride. "Of course it's me. What's wrong? You look like you haven't been sleeping."
The Goon rubbed his eyes with his palm, glanced around, then waved Zayn into the house. His dad had said the Goon was in trouble with the Lady, but he hadn't thought it had gotten this bad.
As soon as Zayn stepped inside, the Goon latched the door and locked it. Zayn was about to tell him that those simple protections would be no match for one of her Academy-trained Watchers, but he didn't want to rattle him further.
"What happened to the plan?" asked the Goon, turning on Zayn as soon as he was finished locking the door. He had a firm grip on his pistol in the holster and the other around the amulet under his shirt.
"There were complications," said Zayn, walking past the Goon as if there were no problems. "Besides, I think I should stay longer. I'm learning a lot."
The Reluctant Assassin Boxset Page 22
