“The washroom is just down the hall,” Fabricio said.
Kovit rose and slipped away, still trying to rub the blood out of the grooves of his switchblade.
Fabricio sat in the plush leather chair across from Nita, hands in his lap. He turned to her. “Is there any information you want to look at before it finishes downloading?”
She hesitated, then nodded. “Yes. INHUP. Anyone associated with it.” She pulled out her phone and showed Fabricio the picture of her mother, Nadezhda Novikova, and Zebra-stripes from an old photo. “Especially anyone from this photo.”
“Are there names to go with that?” He asked, opening a search bar.
Nita listed off several of her mother’s aliases, but none of them came up. Then out of curiosity, even though it didn’t matter anymore, it was over and he was gone and never coming back, she had him search her father’s name.
The hit was instant, and most of the information was older than she was. She scrolled through a case where he got a serial-killing unicorn off on a technicality years before the Dangerous Unnaturals List was put up. He’d covered up evidence in multiple unnatural trafficking cases. He’d helped set up dozens of offshore accounts for various companies to avoid paying taxes.
Nita had known her father wasn’t a good person. He worked with her mother, he helped run the business side of their operation, and he’d never really had an issue killing or selling unnaturals. He’d hidden their money, he’d avoided taxes and the law.
But he’d loved her, and she’d loved him. Even if she was slowly coming to understand that his love hadn’t truly included protecting her from the person hurting her the most.
Nita sighed softly. She’d always thought her father was good, but it was nothing but childish illusions. Finding out the depth of his crimes didn’t change how much she loved him, didn’t rock or shift that core in her heart. It just made her feel lost and a little sad for the naive child she’d been who’d seen her father as the only good person in her life. Who couldn’t recognize that “good” was a relative term, who couldn’t understand that just because someone loved her didn’t make them good.
Nita wasn’t sad to see the last of that child disappear, didn’t regret letting her illusions finally die. Because even though it made her admit her father was a terrible person, she felt like she could at least see him as a person now. A flawed, weak person, but a person nonetheless.
Fabricio left the desk and wandered to the bookshelves while she read more. He ran his fingers over the spines of the books and finally said, “This was my father’s office.”
He wore a wistful, sad expression, and Nita asked, “Do you miss him?”
“Every day.” Fabricio swallowed and looked down. “I thought it would get better, you know, the grief. And I suppose it has—it’s not as sharp, not as constant as it used to be. But sometimes it comes back full force, and it’s like I lost him yesterday.”
Nita’s chest tightened, thinking of her own father. Gone. Stolen forever.
“Were you close?” Nita asked.
“We were. I was his only kid, and since my mother was gone, we spent a lot of time together. He always took Sunday off, and we’d do something fun. Go to a movie or to see a fútbol—soccer—game, or to Montevideo to lie on the beach.” His eyes were sad. “I think he wanted to make sure I didn’t feel the loss of my mother. That I had a full childhood, even without her.”
“He sounds . . . nice,” Nita admitted.
“My father used to try and comfort me about my mother’s death by telling me good people die young. They’re too good for the darkness in the world.” His smile went cruel. “You know what I used to think whenever he told me that?”
“What?”
“If being good means you’re going to die young, why would I ever be good?”
Nita blinked, unnerved to hear her own thoughts echoed back at her. “Pardon?”
“Never mind.” The computer beeped, and Fabricio nodded at it. “Download’s finished.”
Nita unplugged her hard drive and tucked it away.
Fabricio looked up and seemed to come to some sort of decision. “I know you don’t believe me, but I’m sorry, Nita. I really am. It’s my fault you were sold, it’s my fault your father was found and killed. I thought I was doing what I had to do to survive, but I didn’t really think through the consequences.”
Nita’s mouth formed a thin line. “So you’ve said.”
His smile was sad. He knew she didn’t forgive him, wasn’t capable of it. “I hope the information in here is enough to make up for it, but I have a feeling you want blood. I’ve done so very much to survive, though, and I’m not willing to die yet, even if I deserve it.” He met her eyes. “So I’m sorry for this too.”
That was when the alarm began to ring.
Thirty-Three
NITA WHIRLED AROUND, looking for the source of the alarm, some way to shut it off, anything, and in that moment, Fabricio ducked into the adjacent room and locked the door.
Nita stormed over and smashed her fist into the glass surface separating them. “You little shit, what have you done?”
Fabricio shrugged. “I told you, I don’t want to die. When you had what you wanted from me, I figured you’d kill me. Vengeance, tying up loose ends. Both.”
Nita clenched her teeth. He was right, but that only made her angrier.
“You should run,” he said gently. “These glass doors are bulletproof, and you’ll waste a lot of time trying to get in here to kill me. Tácunan Law has a security force on standby for situations like this, and they’re probably on their way. You should go before they get here.”
“And what about when they find you here?” Nita snapped.
Fabricio blinked, then gave her a sad smile. “Me? I’m the son of the owner. Brutally tortured for the password.” He looked down at his hand bitterly, still covered in bandages from Kovit’s “ministrations” three days ago. “I’ve even got the evidence to prove it.”
Her fists clenched at her sides as the alarm rang louder and louder. She’d been played again. When would she learn?
“You’re a traitorous asshole,” she hissed.
“No. I gave you the information you wanted, didn’t I? The computer is even wiped—I bet you didn’t know that one, did you? I set it so once the backup was done, the servers would be wiped clean. Not even Tácunan Law has the information you have anymore.” He gave her a clever smile. “You’re the only one in the world with that information.”
Nita frowned. “Why? Why would you do that?”
He laughed softly, but there was something almost hysterical in the sound, like he couldn’t quite comprehend the magnitude of what he’d done. “To end this company. To destroy it, completely and utterly, so no one will ever hurt me because of it again.”
Nita stared at him a long, hard moment. “I’m going to release all your information online. I don’t go back on my threats.”
“That’s fine,” he agreed amicably. “I don’t see the issue with that now. Martin is dead, he can’t send people to bring me back. Tácunan Law has been robbed—and the computers wiped—so I have no information the black market cares about.” He considered. “I suppose now that I’m eighteen I’ll inherit my father’s fortune, though I imagine the collapse of Tácunan Law will eat up most of it. There’s better rich kids to kidnap and ransom.”
He grinned at her. “Thanks for getting rid of everything tying me down, Nita. After this, I really can start a new life.” His face cleared, and for a moment, he looked like he’d just seen paradise and he wanted to weep from the sight. “I’m finally free.”
“You . . .” Nita couldn’t even find the words to express her anger. Because he was right—she had nothing on him anymore. Nothing. He’d played her like a violin to deal with all his problems, and now she had nothing left to hold over him.
And even now, played and manipulated and furious, she still felt a little bad for him. There was something so utterly pathetic about his situation and hi
s goals that made her pity him.
She tried to push that emotion away, because that was just another part of his manipulation too. But the emotion persisted, mixing with her anger into some new emotion she didn’t fully understand.
Kovit ran into the room, his eyes wide. He grabbed Nita’s hand and tugged her toward the door. “Nita, why are you standing here? We need to run!”
Fabricio smiled and tapped his finger on his wrist, indicating a nonexistent watch. “The more time you waste here yelling at me, the less time you have to escape.”
“He’s right.” Kovit pulled Nita away from Fabricio. “We need to go, Nita. Now.”
Nita hated that they were right, and she let Kovit pull her away. She shot one last murderous look at Fabricio before she left. “This isn’t over, Fabricio.”
He sighed softly, slumping against the glass. “It never is with you.”
And then Nita was running, Kovit yanking her along. They sprinted back down the office hallway, nearly crashing into a glass door they could barely see before they got to the stairwell. Nita grabbed the door handle and yanked the massive metal monstrosity open in a single sharp motion. They ducked under the FIRE EXIT sign and pelted down the stairwell, round and round, feet slamming on the concrete stairs.
It would probably have been faster to use the elevators, but Nita didn’t want to get caught in them. If they froze or the power was cut, she and Kovit would be trapped, sitting ducks in a metal box.
The alarm blared, and Nita was near frantic by the time they reached the bottom of the stairs. They burst out the side door and ran for the street, hoping security hadn’t reached them yet and that they still had time to vanish among the crowds enjoying the evening in Puerto Madero.
The air outside was warm and muggy, even in the darkness of evening, and the sound of tourists chattering and the excited music of a violinist busking whispered through the air.
Nita grabbed Kovit’s hand and tugged him toward the water and the bridges that crossed over to reach the rest of Buenos Aires. The sound of an overpowered car engine roared closer, and a massive four-by-four shrieked toward the building, followed by several more.
Kovit swore, and the two of them sprinted for the safety and anonymity of the tourist sector. Surely they’d be safe with witnesses. Tácunan Law wouldn’t want to get the police involved.
They reached the main seawall and quickly vanished into the crowds.
She glanced back once and saw the men going into the building through the front door. She let out a long breath. They’d gotten away in time.
Beside her, Kovit’s shoulders relaxed a little. He lifted his head and grinned at her, and she smiled back.
Then she realized: he’d forgotten his sunglasses. His hair was a mess from running.
He looked exactly like the photo that had gone up online.
Her eyes widened, but before she could even form the words, she heard the sound she’d dreaded since he went up on the list yesterday.
“ZANNIE!”
It was impossible to see who’d screamed in the mad crush of tourists and locals. The whole mass of them froze, like the entire world had been put on pause. A woman in a Yale sweater held her umbrella in front of her like a weapon, and cell phones went up immediately, recording whatever was about to happen next. Panicked faces searched the crowd.
And all their gazes shifted to Kovit.
It wasn’t because he was the only obviously Asian person there, though maybe that was part of it. But in her panic, Nita had forgotten that Kovit’s clothes had been spattered with blood from the guard he killed, and they painted him with a bright red bull’s-eye.
“Fuck,” Kovit whispered.
Behind them, someone in the crowd pulled out a gun. People nearby saw and dove out of the way, clearing a straight path for the bullet.
Nita shoved Kovit to the side as the first shot went off. The moment after the shot was perfectly silent, like time had stopped, and all that was left was the ringing in her ears.
Then time started again, and she and Kovit stumbled sideways as the bullet smashed into a garbage can behind them, sending it toppling to the ground and rolling across the pavement, spilling trash as it went.
Nita’s and Kovit’s eyes met, and she whispered, “Run.”
And they did, pushing their already tired limbs to new speeds.
The pedestrians came out of their stupor as soon as Nita and Kovit started to run, and quickly divided into two camps. Those who ran screaming in the other direction.
And those who decided it was a good day to hunt a zannie.
The man with the gun was quickly joined by other people. Young men on Rollerblades, tourists in sun hats wielding selfie sticks like batons. Old and young, foreign and local, people began to mass behind them, a slowly forming mob of humans shedding their surface veneer for the once-in-a-lifetime chance to let their inner monsters free without consequences.
A hamburger flew through the air and smacked into Kovit, but he wiped it off and kept running, ketchup smearing across his face and mixing with the blood. A Rollerblading kid zoomed toward them, and Nita tripped him, sending the kid flying into the concrete barrier separating the walkway from the port. Blood spread red along the gray of the barrier, but Nita didn’t turn back to see the damage.
Ahead, a massive bridge with old, nonfunctioning cranes loomed, a chance to cross and vanish into the tumbling melee of the rest of the city.
Nita licked her lips and hissed, “Go. Run. Hide. I’ll hold them off and meet up with you later.”
He didn’t question her, just put on a burst of speed.
Nita put on her own burst of speed as Kovit elbowed through crowds of confused tourists who had no idea why he was being followed by an ever-growing mob. Her eyes were glued on a motorbike casually parked by the side of the road.
Nita was very strong. She had no myostatin limiting her muscle formation, and she’d been working on her strength for a long time now.
So when she grabbed the motorbike, she swung it round and round, her body dizzy from vertigo, and then threw it at the mob.
People screamed, ducking out of the way, but they were too tightly packed, and the bike smashed into them and plowed a path through their midst. Voices rose high in panic, and blood coated the sidewalk.
The blood seemed to snap some of them out of their mob mentality, and they backed away, then sprinted off in various directions in panic. But it made others scream louder, eyes wide and unseeing, full of violence and rage that had nothing to do with rationality and everything to do with a hunger to hurt someone that was just as strong as Kovit’s.
Nita didn’t stick around to see what the swarm did next. The second after the bike hit, she raced away, feet pounding on the pavement, across the bridge and into the city proper, hoping Kovit had eluded his pursuers and terrified by the knowledge that even if he had, there’d always be more.
Thirty-Four
SHE COULDN’T GO back to the Airbnb because Fabricio knew about it, ditto with the room in the conference hotel. Nita had been using Fabricio’s money to buy things while he was their captive, but now that he’d escaped, she didn’t want him able to track her, so she used her own stash of money—most of it stolen from that diplomat she’d murdered yesterday—to pay for a hotel room.
She texted Kovit the address, but he didn’t respond. She tried not to let the fear creep in, but it was hard. She checked the news, but his name was still on the list, and none of the local channels or social media mentioned his death. Yet.
She took a deep breath and tried to be practical. He would survive or he wouldn’t, and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it either way right now. She needed to focus on the things she could do.
She doubled back to stop by the conference hotel to pick up the blood wine and the diplomat’s laptop she’d been using. Information from a hard drive wasn’t much use if she didn’t have a device to read it.
The new hotel was a cheaper one, just off Florida S
treet. When Nita checked in, the bored hotel clerk gave her two cards and then went back to scrolling through his phone at the reception desk.
Waiting for the elevator, two tourists, women in their late teens or early twenties, were whispering excitedly to each other.
“Did you hear there’s a zannie in town? He was spotted by the port!”
“I know! Do you think they’ve killed him yet?”
“I dunno. I hope not. I really want a chance to see him first. Gosh, I wonder if there’s a hashtag tracking him? Think of how many followers I’d get if I could get a video of him being killed!”
“It’d definitely go viral,” the other woman agreed, and they all stepped into the elevator.
Nita’s fingers dug into the crate of blood wine, and she tried to keep her anger off her face. None of it was real to these people. To them, Kovit wasn’t a human, he was just something they could watch from a safe distance, a piece of entertainment, his life only as valuable as the followers they gained from his death.
She hated people.
She got off on her floor and tapped her keycard on her room. The door opened, and she immediately put the wine down and assessed their new space. It was small, with a queen-sized bed, a desk, and not much else. Faded red curtains matched a faded red blanket on the bed.
She closed the door and sat on the bed. It groaned ominously.
She yanked out her phone, but still nothing from Kovit. She texted him the room number, and waited for something, anything.
Finally, she shoved the phone aside. She had things to do, and sitting here worrying wouldn’t get them done.
She plugged the laptop in and connected the hard drive. She had a terrible fear that the information hadn’t transferred, that something had gone wrong.
But when she plugged the hard drive in, it was all there, all thirteen terabytes of it, an impossibly large amount of information she couldn’t imagine where to even start parsing.
She stared at it a long moment. This was it. This was the power she craved. Here was the information that could crumble nations, destroy powerful men, change her life.
When Villains Rise Page 22
