“You two should stay here, close to the house,” I say. “You can return in a few hours. I’m sure Melina’s people will be gone by then. I doubt they’ll be upset with you, but it won’t be like you can tell them where I’ve gone anyway. I won’t tell you.”
“Actually, I’ve got a buddy who’s a paramedic,” Billy says. “My best friend. If I called him, he’d come pick us up. He could even take us to the hospital where Dad’s operating. Your sister can’t stop an ambulance, at least, not without attracting a lot of attention.”
Melina’s people are clearly circling, probably drawing nearer to me every second. Hopefully I can fight my way through, but ultimately I’ll need to get out of Austin somehow. They’ll know that as well, and probably be watching the easiest ways to leave. Main highways and so on. Airports are problematic, since I have no identification. Something humans insist upon to fly, as I understand it.
“So should I call him?” Billy holds up his phone.
“Wait, you have your phone,” I say dumbly. I’m clearly suffering from the incarceration. He was talking about texting, so obviously he has his phone.
Billy nods.
Because he wasn’t kidnapped, duh. I’m too stupid to live. Of course he has his phone. Why didn’t I think of this before? I could call Roman and ask him to come. Melina won’t be watching planes coming in to Austin. Just the ones departing. I bet Roman would come right away, and he’d keep it all a secret from Chancery until I know what to do. My fingers practically itch to call him and ask for help. Then I wouldn’t have to continue to rely on the charity of humans, and I wouldn’t need to risk their lives again, either. Of course, it’ll take some time for him to get here, so Billy’s plan may still be my best bet in the short run.
“Fine, call your friend.”
Billy does, and he tells him to pick us up about three blocks from here, hopefully in a less populated area.
“Can I borrow your phone?” I ask after he hangs up. “I need to make a long-distance call.”
“Like, outside of the United States?”
Ambrosia giggles. “You’re worried about a few bucks in phone charges? There are two disembodied hands lying in sticky pools of blood on my floor. You don’t tell Wonder Woman no to save twenty bucks.”
Billy shrugs. “I guess not.” Billy tosses his phone to me.
“It’s not out of the country. Just Hawaii.” I dial Roman’s number slowly, but before my thumb taps the talk dot, I pause. Could this endanger Roman? What does Chancery think about my absence? How upset is she about the bombs I sent before she defeated me? She might be furious and wishing she’d killed me, in which case, she could be relieved I’m gone. Or maybe she’s realized what a favor I did for her. It’s not like I hit a populated area, and the only casualties were a few thousand humans.
Only a few thousand humans.
Yesterday I wouldn’t have thought twice about those words. Humans are, I’ve always believed, lower than dogs. They’re worthless, except as commodities, pawns from which we only seek to optimize production. They aren’t like us, not at all. The human leaders I’ve met are notable exceptions, the best of the best, the trained performance dogs we can work with. They don’t bite our hands or poop on the carpet because they’ve been conditioned to act as we expect them to act. But even so, they aren’t as good as an evian. Not even close.
The idea of half-evians always horrified me. Who would sully themselves to the point of copulating with a human?
And yet, I’ve only spent a few minutes with Ambrosia and Billy. They’re both full-blooded humans: normal, untrained, unremarkable. They aren’t as strong as me, or quite as intelligent, but they’re kind, generous, interested in justice and morality.
I like them quite a bit more than the human leaders I’ve worked with in government, men who allegedly represent the very best humans have to offer. The President, for instance, seems only to think about himself and his friends. He would never have called in a favor to help someone who turned up on his doorstep. I’ve never even seen him pretend to care about right and wrong.
Maybe the humans I’ve met aren’t the best of the best, or maybe I’ve been misled. Billy and Ambrosia are helping me for absolutely nothing in return. Billy took down an evian, for heaven’s sake. They’re good people, better than quite a few evians I know, and not nearly as dense as I expected. I shake that thought away.
Focus, Judica. Will Chancery be watching Roman? Will it harm him if I ask for help? Would she detain him, or even kill him in pursuit of my location? Roman’s smarter than that, and I don’t think Chancery will shoot first and ask questions later. It’s not in her personality.
I hit talk.
Roman picks up on the second ring. “Hello?”
His voice is richer than I recall, deeper too. I’ve missed it, like I miss strawberry shakes. Like I miss Death. Actually, more than I’ve missed both of those combined, and I really like strawberry shakes.
“Hello?” His tone has shifted to annoyed. “Is someone there?”
“It’s me,” I squeak out.
“Where are you?” he asks. “Is it really you? Say something else. Anything. Are you safe?”
I savor the sound of his voice. I consider not speaking quite yet, so he’ll talk more. But he’s worried, and delaying feels cruel. “It’s really me,” I say. “Melina took me with help from Angel.”
“So she did kill your mother. When she went missing too, we all suspected. We all thought.” He coughs. “Chancery still thinks you’re dead.”
“It’s all my fault,” I say. “Angel made a promise to Mother, and I think she felt she was honoring it by delivering me to Melina. Melina plans to kill me as a favor to Chancery.”
“I don’t understand,” he says. “Chancery doesn’t want you dead. She spared you and then refused to contain you in any way.”
“I’ll explain later. Can you come get me?”
“Yes. Tell me where.” He drops his voice. “In fact, if you’ll let me tell your sister, I bet I can bring a small army.”
“No,” I nearly shout. “Don’t tell her.”
“Have you changed your mind?” he asks. “Is she our enemy?”
Our enemy, just like that. My heart does a tiny somersault. “It’s complicated. I’ll explain when you get here. Bring a pilot and no one else.”
“Where am I headed?” he asks. “I assume you’re in Texas, if Melina took you.”
“Austin, yeah. Meet me at—” I glance at Billy and shrug.
“How about Maxine’s Gumbo House?” he says. “It’s near that small airport, the Austin executive one or whatever.”
“Dad’s a pilot,” Ambrosia says. “Or he used to be before Mom died. He used to fly us to lots of places in his tiny plane. Our favorite place to eat was Maxine’s, coming or going.”
“You get that?” I ask.
“Tell me you’re okay,” Roman says.
“I’m fine.”
“Who are you with?” he asks.
“Two humans who have gone above and beyond.”
“I’ll be there as quickly as I possibly can,” he says. “And I’m saving this number.”
“Thanks.” I hang up and pass the phone to Billy.
“Your boyfriend?” Billy asks.
I shake my head. “The head of my guard.”
“Of course,” Ambrosia says. “Why wouldn’t you have enough guards that they need to have a boss?” Her eyes look a little wild.
“Let’s go, okay?” I ask. “We can call your dad later, and I promise once I get home, I can make all this go away. You won’t be in danger or in trouble.”
Billy lifts one eyebrow, but after a second or two, he nods and takes off at a jog again. I follow him with Ambrosia on my heels. Every snapping twig and wild squirrel causes my heart to race. I don’t even bother modulating it, since they can’t hear it anyway. Luckily, the jog to the corner is uneventful. Billy’s friend is waiting in an ambulance as promised.
“Frank,” Billy wav
es. “Thanks for helping. I’m telling you, this is an absolute emergency.”
“It better be,” Frank says. “Because we’ve got to take you three straight to the emergency room for evaluation.” Frank jerks his head toward the woman sitting on the passenger side with a sour expression on her face.
“I’m Barbara, Frank’s trainer. We don’t usually take calls in this unconventional method. You should have called 911 and taken whichever ambulance was dispatched.”
I step toward her and extend my hand in the way humans like. “I’m Judica Alamecha. I promise you that your willingness to help will be richly rewarded.”
“Richly rewarded? What are you, a secret Nigerian prince? Because I told you no when you emailed me, too.”
I glance at Billy, but he shakes his head.
The sour woman rolls her eyes melodramatically. “I’ll settle for a valid insurance card, okay?” Barbara doesn’t shake my hand, but she does mutter to Frank. “Altered mental status. Did you notice that stupid toy sword on her back?”
“We’ll work the paperwork out with the hospital,” Ambrosia says, “because our friend Judica here is having severe chest pain. Right, good friend?”
“Oh, right. Yes. It’s severe.” I clutch at my heart. “Shooting pains that feel really, really bad.”
Barbara frowns again, but she opens the back of the ambulance and shoos us inside. “Fine, get in.” I climb in and start to sit on a jump seat. Ambrosia widens her eyes at me and I reluctantly climb onto the stretcher. Billy climbs in after her.
“We insist you take her to Scott & White in Pflugerville.”
“We’ll pass about four other emergency rooms to get there.”
Ambrosia puts her hands on her hips. “Did I ask your opinion? We’re requesting a particular ER, and you have to take us there. HIPAA says so.”
Barbara’s scowl intensifies, the lines between her eyebrows like quotation marks. “Frank says your dad’s a doc. You brats are always a pain.”
“Our dad works at that hospital,” Ambrosia says. “And I don’t trust anyone else. He’s a cardio-thoracic surgeon there.”
“Surgeons are the worst of the bunch.” Barbara closes the first ambulance door. “Fine, let’s go.” She slams the other door shut.
“We’re like rats in a cage back here,” I say. “No way to get out.”
Melina’s people could be surrounding us at this moment. She could be bringing a bomb, or rabid dogs, or an army with exploding rounds. Crazy people don’t give up easily, and this has been far too easy so far.
“What’s wrong with you?” Billy asks. “You’re acting like you really do have chest pain.”
“I don’t like being trapped inside a metal box on wheels with no visibility.”
“You’re worried your sister will find us,” Ambrosia says.
“You don’t understand,” I say. “She’s strong like me, and she has a small army at her disposal.” How did Mother ignore Melina? She’s clearly a threat. First she needs to kill me. Who knows what she’ll need to do next to fulfill her bizarre prophecy. Maybe steal Chancery’s baby and offer it as a sacrifice.
“It’s a forty-minute ride to the hospital,” Billy says. “I think now might be a good time for you to share a little about what the hell is going on.”
I bite my lip. “I’m evian, which is to say, I’m a direct lineal descendant of the woman you know as Eve, the mother of all living.”
Ambrosia and Billy share a glance that says, Okay, whatever you say, crazy person.
“Look,” I say. “You’ve seen me heal quickly.” I pick up an oval metal basin. “What is this?”
Billy clears his throat. “It’s a bed pan.”
Why would a bed need a pan? Who cares? I grab either end and bend it in half, then I bend it in half again. “I’m stronger than a human. I can’t demonstrate in here, but I also run faster, have a photographic memory, and so on. I’m not this wonder woman you mentioned, but I am what you might call super-human.”
“Why haven’t we heard of evians?” Ambrosia asks. “Wait, evian. Like the water?”
Mother and her oddball sense of humor. “Yes, like the water.”
“Do you, like, only drink that kind of water?” Billy asks. “Is that the source of your power? Will regular water harm you? Because earlier, that was sink water. It wasn’t Evian.”
Oh good grief. “Look, you’ve never heard of us, but we secretly rule the world, okay? The last thing we want to deal with is disgruntled humans hatching ridiculous plots against us, and frankly, you don’t live long enough or pack a large enough punch to really do us much damage. It’s easier for us if you don’t know we’re here.”
“So presumably your sister’s evian too?” Billy asks. “Why would she be after you?”
“In this particular instance, she happens to think I’m a threat to my twin sister, Chancery. My older sister Melina believes the only way to keep Chancery safe is to eliminate me. See, the youngest female always becomes the new queen of each evian family. I was the ruler, but our Mother changed her mind. She named my twin in my place.”
“That made you mad, I assume. And now you want to kill this Chancery?” Billy asks.
I shake my head. “We fought, but we’ve worked things out. Our mother made her the ruler at the last minute, and I have accepted her decision. I won’t get in Chancery’s way, and in fact, I plan to help her with whatever she needs. Forever. Our family matters, and I’ll do whatever it takes to keep us strong, including killing my older sister before she can do anything else to harm Chancery.”
“But she didn’t want to kill your twin, right?” Billy asks. “She only wants to kill you.”
“She’s unhinged. She’s fixated on me right now, but I’m telling you. Mother banished Melina for a reason, and that reason is becoming very apparent.”
“So you don’t intend to go back until you’ve done exactly what she accused you of doing,” Ambrosia says softly. “Killing someone, namely her.”
I shrug. “Sometimes bad people need to die before they do more damage to the world around them.”
“Spoken like every dictator ever,” Billy says.
I don’t bother telling him that all those dictators were only figure heads for various evian empresses. The crazier the dictators seemed, the less efforts the empresses had to make to explain away their actions. “As soon as I eliminate her, I’ll go back to Chancery. Trust me when I say that you’d love my twin. She’s as benevolent and kind as they come. Which is exactly why she needs someone like me around to keep her alive.”
“The twin you wanted to kill needs your help to survive?” Ambrosia asks. “Really? Or do you think she’s relieved you’re gone?”
Chancery’s not prepared for the job she’s taken upon herself. She’s in too deep and likely drowning, but the question is still a good one. Does Chancery even want my help? Or was she happy to hear that I left? And if she’s relieved by my absence, should I even return? I blink repeatedly. “I’ve been so caught up figuring out how to get back that I never considered what might happen if I didn’t go home.”
“I would want you back, Rosy,” Billy says. “No matter what fights we had, or how mad you made me.”
Ambrosia beams at Billy and my heart contracts. I wish I knew whether Chancery felt the same way. Maybe Roman can tell me more when he arrives.
“What happened to your mother?” Ambrosia asks. “You haven’t said anything about your parents.”
“My father died before I was born,” I say, “and my mother died recently. Very recently.”
“Oh,” Billy says. “I’m very sorry.”
The sympathy in both their eyes clues me in.
“What about your mother?”
Ambrosia frowns. “She died almost a year ago.”
“Why?” I ask.
“Cancer,” Billy says. “My dad’s friend is an oncologist, and I think Dr. Hermes did as much as he could, but it wasn’t enough.”
“Your father faults him f
or it?” I ask.
Ambrosia nods. “He does, just not as much as he faults himself.”
“Explain,” I say. “How is her death your father’s fault?”
“Dad’s a surgeon,” Ambrosia says. “He considered doing the surgery to remove the tumor himself, but it’s not his specialty. Dr. Hermes convinced him to step back. But they couldn’t get all the cancerous cells and Mom. . . Well. She didn’t make it. Dad thinks he should have done it himself or found another doctor, a better doctor. Dad says he screwed up her care by trusting too much to his friend.”
Humans don’t live very long, so I’m not surprised she died. But I’m not too familiar with what cancer is, exactly. “What does that word mean, cancer?”
“It’s where your cells replicate too fast and in the wrong places,” Billy says. “And they often form tumors. Those tumors are aggressive and damage various parts of the body.”
“It’s an illness where your body goes haywire, causing functions to shut down?” I ask.
Ambrosia nods. “Basically, yeah.”
“Does your mother’s death indicate that any of you will also become ill?”
Billy shrugs. “I guess that’s my dad’s fear. He’s been researching cancer with every second of free time, like if he works hard enough, he can find the cure even though people have been studying for decades without much luck.”
“The thing is,” Ambrosia says, “Mom had breast cancer, and that’s hereditary. He thinks I’ll die in my thirties.”
In her thirties. She might die after living less than twice as long as I have. I can’t even imagine what that would feel like, knowing your life is so fragile and having no control over your future. “But your father can’t stop something like that, right? If you have cancer?”
Ambrosia shrugs. “Someone has to cure cancer eventually, so he figures, why not him?”
“He’s doing so much research and so many cases,” Billy says, “that he never sees us anymore. So whether we live a long time or not, he won’t remember a thing.”
“Dad’s always been a perfectionist,” Ambrosia says, “and he’s gotten so much worse since Mom died. I try not to let it bother me so I can enjoy the little bit of time that he’s around.”
unForgiven (The Birthright Series Book 2) Page 13
