by Kelly Meding
I burst out into bright sunlight, heedless of how stupid a move it was. We faced west, over the river, nearly at the bow of the ferry. Behind us was a slightly elevated platform and the wheel room. The deck was warped with age and covered in piles of dried bird shit.
Movement to the north caught my attention.
Walter Thackery stood on the sundeck of the next ferry, drawing the last corner of a plank of wood over to his side. Tall, lean, and movie-star handsome, he looked a bit like a wannabe spy preparing a hasty getaway. Too bad he wasn’t the hero in this little adventure. A good ten feet of water and a three-story drop separated him from me. But not from Phin.
Phin snarled. Thackery raised his right hand. We both dove to the nasty deck as Thackery fired. The shot pinged off the metal door. I lurched to my knees and returned fire. Thackery ducked and shot back. White fire grazed my shoulder. I didn’t stop, just peppered the deck all around him.
Taking advantage of my distraction, Phin dropped his Coni blade and his pants, shifted into a smaller target, and flew across to the next boat. Hovered. I stopped shooting, having run out of bullets. He shifted in midair as he dropped right down on top of Thackery with a rage-fueled battle cry.
“Stone!”
I didn’t stop to identify the person calling my name. A fourth teleport so soon after the others was going to hurt like hell, but I grabbed the blade and did it anyway. My tether to the Break was wide open, sharp and agonizing. My wounded shoulder shrieked in agony as I fell apart and came back together on the deck of the other ferry. Everything tilted and spun, and I crashed to my knees.
The skin-on-skin sounds of two men wrestling kept me from pitching into a serious faint. I inhaled several deep breaths, and exhaled hard through my mouth. Sometimes the physical price of magic sucked.
“Where are they?” Phin snarled.
I blinked the pair into focus. Thackery was on his stomach, both arms twisted behind his back and up so high that I half expected one to pop out of its socket. Phin straddled Thackery’s waist and held his wrists tight between his shoulder blades, Phin’s own weight keeping the man facedown on a rough bed of sun-baked bird shit. His black-streaked wings stood up high, arched, looking as angry as the rest of the warrior.
“Stone!”
Tybalt’s voice. He and Paul stood on the other ferry, watching us with weapons drawn, clothes speckled with blood.
“They’re on the bottom level, near the engines,” I said.
Paul nodded, then turned and bolted.
“Where are they?” Phin asked again, pulling harder on Thackery’s wrists.
Thackery grunted.
The skin on the back of my neck prickled. The last time I’d been this close to Thackery, I was strapped to a table having my left pinkie hacked off in the name of science. I held out my hand, a sight both familiar and foreign—four digits instead of five, a healed bump instead of a joint. Bastard did that to me.
I inched closer and extended the Coni blade toward Thackery’s face. His eyes latched on and followed the twin blades, nearly crossing as I pressed one sharp tip against his cheekbone. “You owe me a finger,” I said.
Utter fury blinked across his face. “The vampires you protect owe me a wife and son,” he replied.
“One vampire killed your wife, not the entire race. Not the people you infected today.”
“They aren’t human.”
“Neither am I,” Phin said. “But which one of us is a cold-blooded killer?”
“By my own hands, I’ve never murdered a human.”
I pressed the blade until a bead of red formed on the ridge of his cheekbone. “They don’t have to be human for it to be murder.”
“What of the human Rhys Willemy?” Phin asked.
Thackery grunted. “His death was at the hands of my protégé. I merely assisted in carrying out his vision.”
“An accomplice to murder still makes you guilty.”
“In your book.”
“And your supposed friend Bastian Spence?”
Something dark flickered across Thackery’s face. “What of him?”
“You set your hybrids and hounds loose at Boot Camp. He was still on-site. Do you feel no responsibility for his death?”
Clearly that wasn’t the answer Thackery was expecting, and the barest hint of grief peeked through his cold façade. “I told him to leave.”
Thackery was officially insane. Six years spent plotting his revenge against vampires had warped his idea of right and wrong, cause and effect. He didn’t even see the world in terms of black-and-white. It was simply his way and our way—and according to his way, his hands were clean of all the deaths he’d left in his wake, including a man he’d once considered a friend.
“Bastian saved my life,” I said, feeling no pride in it. “I bet that makes you all kinds of happy.”
He glared.
“Just like it probably makes you happy to hear that I stabbed your protégé through the throat not long after,” I said.
Fury flashed in his eyes. Oh, he didn’t like jabs at his precious werewolves? Too fucking bad.
“We killed three more of your precious protégés earlier today, too,” I added. “And let me guess. You didn’t murder Michael Jenner, either?”
“Of course not. Why waste the blood?”
Phin pressed his weight down hard. Thackery groaned.
“What about all the half-Bloods you’ve made?” I asked. “You were an accomplice to their deaths the minute they were infected.”
“The lesser of two evils, child.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“It means you’re too young and ignorant to truly understand the scope of my vision. But you will see part of it come to fruition.”
Ignorant my ass. “Not if you’re in custody, pal.”
“The wheels are in motion. Capturing me now doesn’t stop what is to come.”
Oh joy.
“The Coni female and her child were not with the others belowdecks,” Phin said. “Where are they?”
“Alive, for now,” he replied.
“Where?”
“Come now, shape-shifter, I never put all my leverage in one place. By the way, you might want to tell your cohorts to begin abandoning ship.”
“Why is that?”
A distant rumble of thunder caught my attention. I glanced at the sky and saw only cloudless blue. Then a groan of metal joined the thunder. Across the slice of water, on the opposite ferry, Tybalt braced himself on the deck rail with his right hand and was gazing at his feet. He looked up, puzzled. Then concerned.
“Because it’s about to sink,” Thackery said.
Chapter Eighteen
1:20 P.M.
Letting Thackery out of my sight, even in the capable hands of Phineas in full-on protector mode, took a little effort. I trusted Phin to keep a handle on him, but I didn’t trust Thackery. He was slippery, and we could not allow him to get away again.
But knowing that others needed me more had me back on the lowest level of the ferry, searching frantically for a way to open those damned Plexiglas cells. Cold water already swam around our ankles, as whatever backup plan Thackery had rigged allowed the river inside the slowly sinking ferry. It wasn’t deep enough to sink completely, just enough to submerge this entire level—and probably the parking level, too. We had to get the Therians out.
They were still unconscious, although Leah showed signs of waking. Water oozed up through cracks in the floor’s metal plates at a slower rate than in the corridor. At least an inch deep already, the water would either snap everyone awake or quickly drown them.
Baylor, Paul, and bear-Shelby prowled the corridor, looking for a control panel. Shelby even tried throwing his weight against the doors, with no results. We couldn’t risk shooting at the Plexi, for fear of a ricochet killing someone, and I had no doubt it was bulletproof anyway. Thackery built the thing to contain Therians able to shift into bears and large cats.
Others were fart
her down the corridor inspecting the laboratories, gathering anything they could save. I left them to it, intent on those cells and the lives trapped behind their slick, impenetrable walls.
Impenetrable to everything but me. I pressed my palm against the cool Plexiglas of Joseph’s cell. Goddamn, this was going to hurt a lot.
“Stone?” Baylor asked, coming up next to me. “What are you thinking?”
I looked up at him, forcing a smile. “I’m thinking I’ll be lucky if my brain doesn’t start leaking out of my ears by the time I’m done down here.”
“Huh?”
“I can get them out.”
It took him a moment to catch on. He hadn’t seen me teleport others with me, but I’m sure he’d heard stories. I’d already teleported too many times today. My head ached continuously, and the pain would only increase. Using the magic of the Break often used humans right back. Our bodies were not physically capable of handling the full force of its power. I’d gotten nosebleeds and migraines from it before.
This was going to be a doozy. If it didn’t kill me.
Slowly, Baylor nodded. “We’ll keep looking for a release mechanism.”
“You do that.”
I closed my eyes and took a breath, trying to calm my unraveling nerves. The Break snapped and crackled close by, eager to be used and yet still playing the bashful virgin. I pulled it in and it danced away. I tugged harder, drawing on everything in my arsenal to power it with loneliness—Wyatt drifting away from me, Alex dying, my Triad life gone and taking all my security and acceptance.
I slipped in and through the wall. White lightning struck between my eyes. I materialized in front of Joseph, and before I had time to reconsider, I crouched, looped my arms around his narrow, bony chest, and fell into the Break again. We reappeared in a tangled heap in eight inches of water that stank of river rot. My chest ached and my head throbbed. I let strong arms take Joseph away.
Baylor helped me sit upright. “You gonna make three more?”
A canine bark startled me. Kyle bounded through the water, shifting from dingo to human even as he ran. He skidded to a hard stop in front of Lynn’s cell. Someone else’s blood covered his hands, chest, and face, and through the gore, love and need shone through.
“Yeah,” I said, “I can.”
Tremors rocked the ferry. A blast of cold water ran in from somewhere down the corridor. Voices bounced and echoed on the low metal walls, only adding to the confusion, panic, and awful noise. The water level in the corridor rose to knee height quickly; in the cells, it was dangerously close to the mouths of those still unconscious.
I got Lynn next, then Dawn. They were civilians, so they got to go first. I was moving on automatic, exhausted, nauseated. My head hurt so badly I could barely see past the red haze over my vision. Teleporting while so disoriented was stupidly dangerous, but I had no choice. No mechanism had been found to open the cells, and the Therians had to come out.
Without my healing ability, I’d have surely passed out. Or simply keeled over dead from the shock of it all. As it was, I’m pretty sure Baylor carried me over to the last cell and put me down as close to the wall as possible. The water was up to my chest while sitting, and the cold shock of it cleared my mind just enough to concentrate.
Had to get Leah, and then I was done. Could rest for a bit. Maybe pass out for a few hours. That sounded nice.
Leah first, then pass out.
“Yeah, you can pass out soon,” Baylor said.
Okay, so I hadn’t just thought that last part.
He squeezed my shoulder. “I think your brain-to-mouth censor is fried.”
Fuck it all. I looked into the cell and picked my spot. Felt for my tap. It danced out of reach, the power teasing me, there and yet impossibly far away. God, I wanted Wyatt. He’d help me. Between the two of us, we’d summoned half a Jeep into a log cabin. Together we could get Leah out of that damned cell before we all drowned in the river.
But Wyatt wasn’t there. He might never be by my side again. My throat closed and my nose stung. I coughed—it might have been a sob. The Break sparked. My tap hit me like a sucker punch, and I was moving. Flying apart. Coming back together. Less water, metal floor. I reached out blindly, flailing for a body. Touched skin. Grabbed hold.
Back in, to the other side. Agony turned me inside out. Freezing water pushed me down, under. I choked on it.
I didn’t want to drown, but I really, really wanted to sleep.
The gentle lull of movement greeted me as I woke. I was on my back, resting on something moderately soft, with the hum of an engine close by. Cymbals still crashed behind my eyes. I was wet, chilled despite the presence of what felt like a blanket.
I grunted something I intended to be “where am I?” and came out a garbled mess of muttering.
“Evy?”
Male voice. I huffed some semblance of response.
“We’re on our way back to Watchtower. Just rest, okay?”
Tybalt. Sounded like him. I tried words again and managed, “Therians?”
“They’re fine, all coming around. Turns out Thackery rigged up an electrified floor to keep them docile. Used it to knock them all out just as we got there.”
The very image of him electroshocking Aurora and Ava made my blood boil. I tried to sit up, and only managed to make my head spin and my entire body spasm. “Fuuuuuuuuck,” I groaned.
“Then keep still.”
“Why?”
“Because sitting up is obviously painful.”
I almost smiled at his error. “No, why them? What did Thackery do?”
His silence only compounded my unease. I peeked through one eyelid. He was crouched on the floor between the seats of an SUV. I could see Astrid watching us from the front passenger seat, wrapped in loose sweats, her face stony. I didn’t know who was driving; I couldn’t see.
“Leah told us that Thackery was draining their blood a few pints at a time,” Tybalt said. “Because of their accelerated healing, they replenished faster than a human would. He’d use the floor to knock them out, then go in. She said she woke up weak, groggy, and with a cotton ball taped to the interior of her elbow. She put two and two together.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. It was a horrible déjà vu to what Thackery had done to me—drained me to the point of physical death, let me heal, then took more blood. What the fuck was he doing with Therian blood?
“He’ll be telling us shortly,” Astrid said.
I guess the censor button was still broken.
“The what?”
I ignored her and drifted for a while, letting my bruised and mangled brain repair itself. Didn’t wake again until movement ceased and a hand squeezed my arm.
“Evy?” Tybalt said. “We’re back. Can you walk?”
I wasn’t even sure I could sit up. “Think so.”
By some miracle, I managed to conquer sitting upright. Any other day, I might have been embarrassed into doing it on my own and risk falling on my face. Today I gratefully accepted Tybalt’s help. I leaned on him as we climbed out of the SUV, careful of his arm’s blade attachment, and I may have actually clung a little while we walked out of the parking lot and into the main Watchtower hall.
People were everywhere, chatting in clusters. I spotted Paul and Shelby among them, still bloodstained, but as eager as the rest of us to see this thing finished. The crowd knew we had Thackery. They knew we’d found the missing Therians. Well, most of them.
“Ava?” I whispered.
“Nothing yet,” Tybalt replied.
“Where’s Thackery?”
“Being secured in one of the empty stores, since the jail is still wrecked. They’ll interrogate him soon.”
“Goodie. I want in.”
“You can barely walk.”
“Don’t need to walk to watch.”
“Point taken. You want to change first?”
I took stock. My clothes were damp, but not horribly wet. The chafing I could live with. The front of my
shirt was stained with blood—my own and others, I’m sure. I kind of smelled. “No,” I said. If I offended anyone, they could suck it.
Tybalt aimed us toward Operations, which didn’t seem right. “You said he was in a store.”
“Yeah, he is, but you aren’t participating in the interrogation. Astrid’s orders.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes. You could have killed yourself teleporting everyone today, Evy. Relax for ten minutes.”
“Aurora and Ava are still missing, Tybalt.”
“I know that. But you can’t help them if you end up in some sort of magic-overload coma.”
Coma. Wyatt. Shit, I should go see him. But I needed answers, too. Needed to find Aurora and Ava, and to make sure they were safe. I was Ava’s godmother, her Aluli, and I had to save her. Period.
Tybalt steered us through Operations and into the War Room. Some of the seats were already occupied. I ignored exact faces in favor of what was being projected onto one of the whiteboards—Walter Thackery, bound to a chair, in the middle of an empty store.
“Oh good,” I said as Tybalt put me into a chair. “Pay-per-view.” Further proving my edit button was broken, I said, “He’s not going to blow up, is he?”
Someone at the table snickered.
“He was checked out thoroughly before we brought him inside,” Tybalt replied. “No detectable explosives or tracing devices.”
“Detectable.” We hadn’t detected anything on Felix. Then again, we hadn’t been smart enough to check properly that time—a mistake I bet no one was eager to repeat. “Awesome.”
“It is what it is.”
“Evy?” Rufus asked. His voice startled me into swiveling my chair around too fast. My ankle slammed into the footrest of his wheelchair and sent a shock up my leg.
I hissed through my teeth.
“You look lousy,” he said.
“Well, good, because I feel pretty damn lousy,” I replied.
My tone slid right past him. “We watched everything from here. I’m amazed you were able to use your Gift so many times in such a short span.”
“Ditto. I think I lost a few million brain cells in the process, though.” We hadn’t really spoken in almost a month. Since the morning Boot Camp was attacked, and Rufus told me he’d been there eleven years ago when Wyatt’s family was slaughtered by vampire bounty hunters. Rufus admitted to being one of those bounty hunters, young, the apprentice of the man who’d decided that innocent victims shouldn’t be allowed to live to repeat what they’d seen.
