“And they trusted you by then?”
“Oh, yeah. Definitely. I’d had plenty of time to prove myself by then.”
“And when you returned this time? Were you bringing information again?”
Archer traced a pattern in the condensation on the side of his glass. “No, this time it was because of my family. My father demanded I return home. Our agreement was that I could do whatever I wanted for a year, and I’d already pushed it a few months beyond that, so it was time.”
“So now what?” Ridley asked. “Time to grow up and learn the family business and forget everything you discovered in the mountains on the other side of the world?”
“According to my father, yes. I’m being groomed to take over Davenport Industries one day.” Archer gave her a grim smile. “Thrilling stuff, arxium mining.”
“And according to you?”
He sat forward again, and his voice was low once more when he said, “I’m biding my time. Waiting for a chance to get out of the city again. For good this time. I need to do it properly. I need to make sure my family will never find me.”
His words left Ridley feeling oddly cold. She couldn’t imagine running away from her father like that. “Do you really mean that?” she asked. “Won’t you miss them terribly?”
Archer sighed. “My parents …” He shook his head. “We have a complicated relationship that borders on toxic. Lilah, on the other hand … I know you two have your differences, so you may not agree with me on this, but she isn’t that bad. I missed her a lot while I was away, and if I leave for good …” He paused, lifted his drink, and downed what remained of it. “That’s the only thing that might change my mind. Leaving my sister behind. When I think of family, I think of her. But I can’t tell her the truth. You know I can’t. She believes everything my parents have ever told her about magic. She would never understand me giving up everything to live with people who are born with it. She’d probably turn me in before letting me do something like that.”
Ridley shook her head, remembering the text message conversation she’d had with Lilah after the other girl had tracked down the footage of the murder in Ridley’s alley. “No she wouldn’t,” Ridley said. “She’d do anything to protect you.”
A frown line creased Archer’s brow. “You think?”
“Yes. As you would do for her.”
“Well, okay. Perhaps she wouldn’t hand me over to the cops, but she’d never understand. Telling her is not an option.”
Ridley nodded, turning her glass in small circles. She wondered how much time had passed since they’d sat down. “So,” Archer said before she could pull out her commscreen to look at the time. “Are you still mad at me?”
The question caught her off guard, and she had to think about it before answering. Life’s too short to hold on to anger, Grandpa had said the night before. “No,” she answered eventually, looking directly into his eyes so he’d know she was being truthful. “You, me, my dad, Grandpa … we’ve all kept secrets. I might want to get all self-righteous and tell myself that the secrets you kept were way bigger and that you should have told me the truth. But … I don’t know. I can’t really be self-righteous considering the things I’ve done, can I? And now that the shock of discovering everything has passed, it just seems like too much effort to stay mad at you.”
With a straight face, Archer said, “That’s so mature of you, Ridley.”
She rolled her eyes and muttered, “Shut up.”
Archer laughed. “I take it you’ve forgiven your father as well then?”
“Yes.” She pushed her glass forward and rested her elbows on the table. “We spoke a lot earlier this evening after Grandpa left. I told him about everything from the past few days. Stealing the figurine, running and hiding after the shooting at Wallace, the fact that I know about the city’s—” she lowered her voice and whispered, “—magical underworld.”
“Ah, yes. Your dad knows Christa, doesn’t he?”
“Yes, though he said he’s had no contact with her since just after the Cataclysm. He doesn’t want to have anything to do with that bunker or anyone who lives down there.”
“Naturally,” Archer said with a nod. “He wants to keep you safe, so obviously he doesn’t want to get involved with them in any way.”
“Yeah. And we spoke about all my thefts from the past few years, and how he strongly feels that I should never, ever, ever steal from someone again.”
“Looks like I have something else in common with your dad.”
“Yeah. I’m still figuring out my position on that one. Maybe it’s a good thing Ezra’s been ignoring me since we showed up underground. If I don’t have anyone to sell stolen items on my behalf, then maybe—”
“Ohmygoodness, Archer! Hello!” A girl in a white mini dress dropped into the chair beside Archer, interrupting Ridley mid-sentence. “Where have you been?” she exclaimed as she flipped her sleek black hair over her shoulder. “You totally disappeared from all the social feeds for like a year, and then we saw you on the news because of that murder, and none of us even knew you were back.”
“Aaaaah, it’s Archer!” a second girl squealed as she slid into the empty chair next to Ridley. Her outfit was almost as skimpy as her friend’s, and she ran her hands up and down her arms as the chilly breeze gusted along the sidewalk. “Okay, you have to tell us everything. I saw Lilah at Voletti’s on the weekend, but she was super vague on the details of what you’ve been up to. And OH MY HOLY GOSH. Did you see what happened with Lawrence? That he was shot and killed? Such a tragedy. I actually cried when I heard about it.”
“And obviously we’ll be at the memorial tomorrow morning,” the first girl chimed in. “Will you be there?”
“Kelly, Luna, hi.” Archer’s smile was friendly but guarded. He gestured across the table and added, “This is Ridley. You might remember her from Wallace.”
“Oh. Hi.” Luna jerked to the side as if surprised to find someone sitting beside her. Ridley remembered both girls from Archer’s class two years ahead of her own, but neither girl seemed to recognize her.
“I’d love to catch up,” Archer continued, “but Ridley and I were actually about to leave. We need to meet someone, and we’re already late.” He pushed his chair back and stood. “I’ll see you around.”
“Uh, yeah, sorry about that,” Ridley said as she stood. Archer walked away from the tables, and she followed quickly. “Wait, the bill,” she added, pulling her commscreen free. “I’ll just go inside and scan the—”
“It’s fine, I paid at the bar when I got the drinks. Come on, or we’ll lose him.”
“Oh, did you see him leave?” Ridley pushed her commscreen back into her pocket as she and Archer stepped onto the street. “I thought you just didn’t want to talk to your old friends.”
“I saw him walk past just as Kelly and Luna sat down. Perfect timing.”
“Great. So … which one is Malachi Hollings?” she asked, her eyes scanning the people walking ahead of them.
Archer nodded toward the dark-skinned man with a backpack over both shoulders who was about to turn a corner into the next street. He glanced back once before disappearing around the corner, giving Ridley a brief glimpse of his face. She guessed he was in his early twenties.
“Don’t hurry,” Archer said as she edged ahead of him. “Keep it casual. We don’t want to talk to him until we’re somewhere quieter.”
“I know, I know, I just don’t want to lose him.” She pushed her hands into her jacket pockets and forced herself to slow to a stroll beside Archer. They turned left into the next street, and Ridley was relieved to see Malachi hadn’t vanished. He was walking a little faster though, and soon he turned another corner. Ridley linked her arm with Archer’s and pulled him along as she increased her pace. “We need to move quicker, and I don’t want to look like I’m running away from you, so we need to walk together.”
“You do realize,” Archer said as a fine drizzle began to fall, “that if we happen
to lose him we can just come back tomorrow night, right?”
Ridley sighed and reached back with her free hand for the hood of her jacket. The rain was little more than mist right now, but it could change at any moment. “This would be so much easier if I were on my own,” she said. “I could become air, follow him without anyone knowing, then appear only when it’s safe and he’s completely alone.”
“That sounds a lot more stalker-ish than what we’re doing.”
“I could actually hide us both,” Ridley continued, ignoring the stalker comment. “Like I did when we went into Brex Tower to look for Lawrence. I can’t do it now, of course, since there are other people around.” She threw a look over her shoulder at the group of giggling young women crossing the street. “But perhaps we can do that next time.”
“Maybe,” Archer said as they turned the next corner into a residential street. It was quieter and darker now, with only the regular street lamps and no bright restaurant signs or billboard screens. Aside from a man hurrying out of an apartment building with his commscreen to his ear, Malachi was the only other person on this street. And he was even further ahead now, already rounding the corner at the next intersection.
“Crap, come on.” Ridley let go of Archer’s arm and broke into a jog. As she approached the corner, she prepared to shout out for Malachi. But his name died on her tongue as she rushed around the corner.
He stood there, facing her, his backpack on the ground and his fists balled at his sides. Ridley skidded to a halt. A second later, Archer stopped beside her. “I don’t know what the hell you’re doing following me,” Malachi hissed, “but I’m not interested.”
“Um, hi,” Ridley said. “Sorry about the creepy following thing. We just want to talk.”
Malachi’s gaze moved to Archer. “I know who you are, and if you come any closer I will kill you!”
“Whoa, jeez.” Archer raised his hands. “That’s not necessary. Look, man, we just want to talk. It’s really—”
But Archer never got to explain what he wanted to talk about because Malachi’s arm flashed forward, his fist connecting with Archer’s face a second later. Archer stumbled backward. “Hey!” Ridley yelled, but Malachi didn’t stop. He lunged at Archer and slammed into him with the full weight of his body, sending them both crashing to the ground.
7
All Ridley could make out was a confusion of swinging arms and clenched fists. Then, just to make the scene even more dramatic, lightning flashed overhead. “YOU KILLED MY FATHER!” Malachi roared, aiming for Archer’s face again.
“What the hell?” Archer demanded, his arm up to protect his face.
“Your father—” punch “—fired my father—” another punch “—and we were still mourning my mom and sister. Your father ruined mine with his lies and accusations.” Malachi paused for a moment, breathless, and Ridley was about to yell at him to get off Archer when he finished with, “So he committed suicide,” and threw another punch, this one directly to Archer’s abdomen.
Ridley hadn’t witnessed a great many fist fights in her life, but she knew enough to be fully aware that Archer wasn’t fighting back. He was strong—she’d felt the muscles across his back the night she’d wrapped her arms around him and hidden them both with magic—so she figured he could easily take on Malachi. But he wasn’t even trying. “Hey!” she yelled again. Archer might feel the need to take a beating for whatever his father had done to ruin Malachi’s father, but that didn’t mean she had to stand by and watch. “Malachi, stop!” Malachi paused at the sound of his name, his arm pulled back long enough for Ridley to grab hold of it. She tugged as hard as she could, but he resisted instantly, and though years of indoor rock climbing had given her great upper body strength, Malachi was clearly far stronger.
“Get off me!” he yelled, ripping free of her grip. He swung his elbow back at her with way more force than she expected, striking her stomach and shoving her backward into the nearest wall. Her head smacked against the bricks, and pain rocketed through her body.
“Hey!” Archer shouted. Ridley blinked and gasped for breath, but she couldn’t seem to get any. With a wordless cry, Archer finally kicked Malachi off and struggled to his feet. “Touch her again and you’re dead.” Clutching his ribs and wiping one hand across his bloodied face, he lurched toward Ridley. “Are you—”
Malachi launched himself at Archer’s legs before he could finish speaking, tackling him to the sidewalk again. “I’m dead? I’m dead?” He went for Archer’s face again with renewed fervor.
Ridley raised one hand to the back of her head as she sucked uselessly at the air that refused to fill her lungs. She couldn’t feel anything wet in her hair, which was a good sign. She’d probably just end up with a painful lump on the back of her head. She tried again to breathe, managed a cough and a groan, and then finally pulled a small breath into her lungs. “Dammit,” she wheezed as the two guys struggled with one another on the ground.
“I am not my father!” Archer yelled.
“You’re just as bad!”
“NO I’M NOT!”
Enough! Ridley shouted inside her head, since shouting out loud was still impossible. She may not be able to physically pull the two guys apart, but that didn’t mean she was completely useless. She looked both ways down the street, confirming there was no one else around, then up at the windows in the buildings on both sides of the street. Those that were illuminated were covered by curtains or blinds. As far as she could tell, no one was watching. It was a risk, but it might be the only way to get Malachi off Archer before one of them seriously injured the other.
She breathed in another few shallow breaths, then pushed her aching body away from the wall, letting her magic rise to the surface of her skin. She imagined air, and as she threw herself at Malachi, her body vanished. Her magic swirled around him in glowing blue wisps as she collided against his side and clung tightly to him. Together the two of them spun away on the evening breeze.
He cursed loudly in her ear and tried to shove her away. She let go of both him and the air that concealed them, and a moment later, the two of them landed hard on the ground. “What the hell?” he gasped, scrambling to his feet and backing away from her. His sweater was rumpled, and blood oozed from his split lip.
“Yeah, I’m just like you,” she said, straightening and rubbing the part of her backside that had hit the ground. “That’s what we want to talk to you about. Now will you please stop attacking us?”
“Ridley, are you okay?” Archer asked as he staggered toward them, which was a ridiculous question considering the state of his face.
“I’m fine,” she said. She’d feel it later, no doubt, but for now, the immediate pain of being thrown against a brick wall was beginning to recede. “Malachi, we need to talk.”
He cursed beneath his breath as his eyes, wide and bright against his dark skin, darted around the empty street and up to the windows. Soft rain pattered onto the hood covering Ridley’s head as she waited, her gaze switching between Malachi and Archer. The latter was making his way toward them, his steps uneven and his arm wrapped around his chest. Ridley’s stomach turned at the sight of all the blood on his face. Hopefully it looked worse than it was.
“Fine,” Malachi said eventually. “Follow me.” He hurried past Ridley. She rushed forward, took Archer’s free arm, and helped him to walk a little faster. Around the next corner, Malachi ran up a few steps to the door of a residential building and punched in a code. The door swung open. Once they were all inside, he shoved the door shut and hissed, “Why the hell would you do that out there? You could get us both killed.”
“And how is that any different from what you were doing to Archer?” Ridley asked as she pushed her hood back. “You actually used the words ‘I will kill you.’”
“Yeah, but I wasn’t literally going to kill him.”
“How was I supposed to know that? And I checked before using magic. There were no people around and no drones flying by. If there was s
omeone in a window too high up for me to see, then that means he or she would have been too far away to see our faces. We’ll be fine.”
With another curse, Malachi turned away from the elevator and stairs toward the passage on the left. “Come on, my apartment’s right here.”
“Thank goodness,” Archer groaned. After passing two doors, Malachi unlocked the third and hurried inside. Ridley followed as fast as Archer—still hanging onto her arm—would allow. As Malachi shut the door behind them, Archer let go of Ridley. She glanced around the small studio apartment, quickly taking in the unmade bed on one side, the well-worn couches in the middle, and the kitchen on the other side, before turning her attention back to Malachi.
He met her gaze and stared for several silent moments. Lightning flickered outside, brightening the dim apartment for a moment. Malachi exhaled slowly. “Okay. Wow. You’re … I can’t believe this. You’re like me. And here I was thinking I was the only magical freak in existence.”
Ridley allowed herself to smile for the first time since coming face to face with this guy. “I know, me too. I only found out a few days ago that I’m not the only one. I’m Ridley, by the way.”
Archer dropped onto the nearest couch with a groan, one hand pressed against his ribcage and the other gingerly prodding the swollen skin beneath his right eye. “Sorry,” Malachi said to him, though he didn’t sound all that apologetic. “You might need to go to a hospital.”
“I’ll survive,” Archer answered.
“I’ll fix him up later,” Ridley said. “I know a few conjurations that’ll help.”
“You do?” Malachi’s eyes snapped back to hers. “Where’d you find those? Weren’t all the books and everything destroyed? I’ve scoured the net, but I haven’t found much.”
“I just remember a few things from before,” Ridley said, not wanting to reveal that she’d found a book containing certain conjurations in her father’s antique store. “Things my parents made me memorize. Anyway, this is why we’re here.” She removed the letter from inside her jacket and handed it to him. “I received one of these, but the guy who delivered it died before he could pass on the rest of the letters. So I figured I should probably do it.”
Elemental Power Page 8
