Kat Dubois Chronicles

by Lindsey Sparks

  “Hey, Lex,” I said as I drew nearer. “There’s something I want to show you.”

  She glanced at Heru, her hand settling on his knee. An unspoken conversation passed between them, and he nodded. She leaned in, kissing him on the cheek, then stood and smoothed down the front of her sweater and jeans.

  “Come on,” I said, leading her back the way I’d just come. “It’s not far . . . just up a couple floors.”

  Lex looked over her shoulder, her lip pulled between her teeth and her brow furrowed.

  “It won’t take long,” I promised. “Just trust me.” I couldn’t help the lilt of a question. I didn’t know if she trusted me at all anymore. And if she did, I wasn’t sure whether she should.

  We emerged from the third floor stairwell into the waiting room packed full of police officers a couple minutes later. Lex looked around, eyebrows raised. I waved to Henderson, and he gave me a slight nod.

  “Where are you taking me?” Lex asked, laughing nervously.

  I grinned at her over my shoulder. “There’s someone I want you to meet. Someone you’ll want to meet.”

  We reached Garth’s room, and I peeked around the doorframe. He was just as I’d left him, gaze focused on the window and the rain pouring down in sheets outside.

  “Garth, there’s—”

  “I told you to—” His dismissal died out when he looked at me. Or rather, looked past me, no doubt at Lex. His focus returned to me, confusion lighting his brown eyes.

  “Garth,” I said, stepping into the room. I reached behind me, finding Lex’s arm, and pulled her in after me. “This is my sister, Lex—Alexandra.” It was the name his people had known her by when she’d passed through their land—and time—over a century and a half ago.

  Garth’s eyes bugged out.

  I turned to Lex. “This is Officer Garth Smith, who changed his last name when he was in middle school . . . from Seattle. He’s descended from Chief Sealth.”

  Lex’s eyes narrowed, and a second later, her lips spread into a broad grin, her gaze sliding past me and landing on Garth. “You—” She moved further into the room to stand behind the chair at Garth’s bedside. “How?” She looked from Garth to me and back.

  “Chief Sealth’s daughter, Kikisoblu, was my great-great-great-great-grandmother. I grew up hearing stories of you and your people, but I never really believed any of them until I met Kat.” His eyes shifted to me. “I did some digging after our first meeting. I found your birth certificate.” The corner of his mouth lifted, and he scanned me from head to toe, giving me an appreciative nod. “You look good for a thirty-eight-year-old.”

  Heat suffused my cheeks.

  “I—” Lex shot me a questioning glance, and I nodded, letting her know that he knew exactly who she was—and what we were. “I knew Kikisoblu . . . not well, but she saved my life once when I was in a bit of a sticky situation. She was a remarkable woman. And Sealth . . .” She shook her head, laughing under her breath. “He was something else.”

  “This is unreal,” Garth said.

  “Truly incredible,” Lex agreed. “Can I ask you—how many of your people know of us?”

  “Just my family,” Garth told her. “We’ve kept your secret, just as we promised all those years ago.”

  “Then you know how important it is that you continue to keep that secret a, well, secret,” Lex said.

  “Which means not telling every Nejeret you cross paths with that you know what they are,” I added.

  Alarm flashed across Lex’s crimson eyes. “I can propose his name be added to the protected humans list, but there are no guarantees . . .”

  Garth’s expression turned quizzical.

  “I’m pretty sure that’s why you were attacked,” I explained. “You know too much, and the wrong person found out. To the rest of the world, you have to pretend that we don’t exist.” I snorted out a breath. “It’s probably best if you just forget about us.”

  “Kat!” Lex said, giving me a look of scandalized disbelief. She shook her head, her eyes narrowed, and laughed under her breath. When her attention shifted back to Garth, her features smoothed over. “I’d like to speak with you more, I really would,” she said, “but I should get back downstairs. Our brother was the victim of a—well, he’s in bad shape down in the ER. They’re not sure if he’ll . . .” Lex’s voice seemed to catch in her throat. “We should get back.”

  Garth looked at me, some measure of forgiveness in his gaze.

  I risked the tiniest of apologetic smiles.

  “You should go,” he said. Though the words were the same ones he’d spoken earlier, they felt entirely different. “I’m not going anywhere for a while, so you know where to find me.”

  Lex started back across the room, but she stopped halfway and turned back to Garth. “Kat’s right, though. This secret—what we are—it’s dangerous . . .”

  Garth’s eyes shifted to Lex, then back to me. “So the Ink Witch keeps telling me.”

  I bristled. “You know, I really hate that name.”

  Garth chuckled. “I know.”

  Lex and I were halfway down the stairwell by the time she spoke again. “Ink Witch?”

  I groaned. “It’s a stupid nickname.”

  “Oh.” She was quiet for a few seconds, but I could feel her sidelong stare on my face. “I think he likes you. But he’s upset with you, too.”

  “He’s in here because of me,” I said. “Because of all this . . .” I shook my head as we started down the final flight of stairs. “I tried to keep him out of it, but it just made things worse.” I considered telling her about the bartender, but I wanted to deal with him on my own, Senate agent or not. “I never should’ve visited him at the station. It would’ve have been best for him if he’d never met me at all.”

  Lex grabbed my wrist, pulling me to a halt halfway down the stairs. “Do you really think that?”

  I eyed her. “It would have been best for him if he’d never met me. It’s safer that way.”

  Lex shook her head, her brow furrowed. “You don’t get to choose what’s best for people, Kit-Kat. There’s one person in this world that you’re responsible for—you.” She gave my wrist a tug, then let it go. “It’s not your job—your right—to decide what’s good or bad for other people.” Her carmine eyes searched mine. “Don’t you get that?”

  I looked away, focusing on the wall.

  “Like with your mom . . .” With those four words, it felt like she’d rammed me in the chest with a wrecking ball. “She made the choice that was best for her—trading her life for yours.”

  A tear leaked from the corner of my eye, and I jutted out my jaw to keep my chin from trembling. “If it weren’t for me, she’d still be here.”

  “She chose your life over hers, Kat. She chose that, not you. You have to let her take ownership of that choice.” Steel seeped into Lex’s voice. “Stop making decisions for the people around you. We’re all responsible for ourselves, for our choices. We love you, and you don’t get to take that away just because it scares you. Because that love is ours, not yours.”

  I closed my eyes in a long blink, then looked at her. I had no words, just a shit-ton of long-dormant emotions all unfurling at once.

  “Stop punishing yourself for your mom’s choice. You’ve twisted it into something shameful in your head, but what she did was selfless; it was beautiful. Give her a little credit, for once in your life. Be proud that she was your mom . . . that you’re her daughter. Be the legacy she deserves.”

  I looked up at the shiny, whitewashed cement ceiling. Tears streamed from the corners of my eyes.

  “I’ll give you a moment,” Lex said, continuing down the stairs. “Come join us when you’re ready.”

  “Yeah,” I said, voice raspy. “Sure.” I sunk down to sit on a stair and rested the side of my head against the metal railing.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered. Because Lex was right. About everything. I’d been an ass for the last two decades. Ever since my mom shove
d me out of the way of the gun and took the bullet meant for me, I’d made it all about me—about my loss. But it wasn’t. It was about her—her choice. Her sacrifice. Her gift.

  As I sat in that stairwell, facing the things I’d been hiding from for all these years, it felt like the whole world shifted around me. Everything I’d believed was based on faulty logic. On a foundation of cardboard and Styrofoam. I’d been wrong—blind—and I was finally ready to accept it. I’d been in hiding from myself for twenty years, but not anymore. Never again.

  Chapter Nineteen

  When I emerged from the stairwell, Aset was standing near where Lex and Heru were sitting in the waiting area. As soon as I stepped onto the sitting area’s rug, Aset stomped over to me, raised her hand, and slapped me. Hard.

  I pressed my hand against my cheek and worked my jaw from side to side. While she might have been petite and pretty as all hell, Aset was ancient and had spent millennia training to be nearly as fierce and lethal as her twin brother. Who, at the moment, was watching from a chair, Lex’s hand in his and the faintest smirk twisting his lips.

  “I’m sorry about Nik,” I said, assuming her anger was because her son seemed to be the latest Ouroboros victim. “I knew Mari wanted him for something, and I told her where he was to save my own life.” And to keep this timeline from unraveling as the thread of my life disappeared, or so I’d thought at the time. I hadn’t known there was another way.

  “You’re a foolish child,” Aset said with a huff. Her rich, ancient accent was more pronounced than usual. “Nekure is more than capable of dealing with Mari.”

  My eyes narrowed. “Then why did you hit me?”

  “Because I missed you.” Her amber eyes shone. “For three years, you couldn’t even be bothered to answer my calls, and you made it clear I was not welcome in your life. What was I to think? I had to resort to hiring a private investigator to check up on you.”

  My lips parted. “You did what?”

  “Even Nekure checked in with me time and again, letting me know he was alive.”

  “Thanks for letting the rest of us know,” Lex muttered under her breath.

  I sniffed. So Aset hadn’t shared her periodic phone calls with Nik with the rest of our unconventional family. Now who was the inconsiderate one? I opened my mouth to make that very point when the sound of footsteps came from the hallway leading to Dom’s operating room.

  Neffe appeared, crossing to the waiting area, shoulders slumped. “He went into cardiac arrest.” She held up a hand to cut off our questions. “We managed to bring him back, and he’s stable enough for the moment, but there’s no way to predict how long that will last.” She was quiet for a moment, her eyes locked with her father’s. “I thought we could stabilize him, even without his ba, but . . .” She shook her head. “His organs are starting to shut down. There’s nothing more we can do for him, and life support will keep him going for only so long. If we don’t reunite him with his ba soon, he will die.”

  “Mari’s the only one who can release his ba from that thing,” Heru said, pointing to the inky black orb in my hand.

  “But how can we find her, Father?” Neffe asked. “The Senate’s been searching for Mari and the others for months . . .”

  Heru’s hawkish stare locked onto me. “She’ll be looking for you if she truly believes you’re infected with anti-At.”

  I nodded. “There’s no way for her to know about this mark,” I said, rolling the orb to my fingertips and flashing the black-streaked iridescent Eye of Horus on my palm. “So far as she knows, she needs to find me before this world changes into the wild unknown.” I looked at Aset. “If Nik’s with her, can’t you just call him?”

  She shook her head. “I tried that hours ago. His phone’s either off or dead.”

  “If you made your whereabouts known to her,” Heru said, “Mari would come to you.”

  I shook my head. “Not if she thinks you guys are around. She might prefer to preserve this timeline, but not at the expense of her own life.” I frowned, considering another angle. “I think she’s kind of a big shot at Ouroboros. If I walked in there alone, asked for her, and told them who I was, they’d be able to get the message to her.”

  “But that still doesn’t get her here,” Neffe said. “And there’s no guarantee that she’ll be willing to help.” Neffe hesitated. “What about Mei? We could use her to coerce—”

  “Out of the question,” Aset said. Mei was Mari’s adoptive mother. She was also Nik’s only child—that I knew of—and Aset’s only grandchild. She was technically dead, having been murdered during all the hoopla a couple decades ago, but being a time traveler—however grounded she currently was by the new gods’ ban on time travel—she’d found a loophole to extend her life by jumping forward in time. Eventually, the day would come when she’d have to return and allow her own murder. But not yet.

  “If I talk to Mari . . .” I licked my lips. She’d said she loved me; if that was true, she’d have to listen. “I don’t know why she’s doing all of this, but she’s not a bad person. She’ll help Dom. She’ll make the right choice.” I exchanged a look with Lex. Her red-rimmed eyes made her look a little shell-shocked. “I have to trust that she’ll make the right choice.”

  Everyone looked at Heru, our people’s general, an uncrowned king. Finally, he nodded solemnly. “If she chooses wrong—if she resists—I authorize you to use whatever force necessary to capture her and bring her here. This isn’t how Dom ends. He’s a warrior. He deserves better.”

  “I understand.” I turned away from Heru and set the orb down on a chair, then picked up my leather jacket and put it on. I stuffed the orb back into my pocket and met Heru’s fierce golden eyes. “This isn’t how he ends,” I agreed, meaning it with every fiber of my being.

  This isn’t how he ends.

  Chapter Twenty

  I hurried back to the parking garage and found the trash can near my bike, where I’d stowed my weapons. The trash bag was still mostly empty, and it was easy enough to retrieve my things. Within minutes of reaching the garage, I was suited up once more and kicking my leg over the Ducati’s high seat.

  It was still early enough that the streets of downtown Seattle weren’t crowded, only a single overnight road construction crew attempting to slow me down. Fourth Avenue was closed off, and instead of following the detour down to Third so I could swing back around on Fifth—damn one-way streets—I flipped a bitch and rode down Fifth going the wrong way. It was only a block and a half, and Dom’s life was on the line.

  A couple cars honked at me, and someone in a white BMW sedan rolled down their window to inform me none too politely that I was going the wrong way. I ignored them all and parked the bike on the sidewalk just a few feet from the Fifth Avenue entrance into the Columbia Center, not caring that the parking job was about as illegal as they get. I jumped off the bike, practically ripping my helmet off and dropping it on the cement, and ran to the door.

  I entered the posh building on the second floor, all the mall shops still closed, doors shut and security gates pulled down. I could hear people down in the food court, though, early birds at the several cafes grabbing their morning coffee fixes.

  A single woman was waiting at the elevator. I stopped a couple feet from her, crossed my arms over my chest, and met her eyes, forcing a half-assed smile. Her gaze slid to the sword strapped to my back, and her eyes rounded. She backed away slowly, then turned and jogged to the escalator. No doubt she was going in search of security or, even better, police. I sniffed and turned my back to the escalators. Some people are so jumpy.

  Widening my stance, I rolled my head from side to side to crack my neck as I watched the digital counter over the elevator. Eleven. Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven . . .

  The metallic clang of boots tromping up the escalator caught my attention, and I glanced over my shoulder. Two of Seattle’s finest in their starched midnight-blue uniforms barreled up the moving stairway, one a chick, the other a dude.

 
I peered up at the counter. Three. Two . . .

  Ding. The elevator doors whooshed open, and I stepped inside, hitting the “close” button immediately.

  “Hey!” the lady cop shouted. “Hold the elevator!”

  I raised my hand and blew them a kiss as the doors slid shut. Too slow, Joes. I heard the cop shout “Stop!” just before the elevator car started its speedy ascent.

  The building was on the newer side, and the elevator was fast, but the ride up to the sixtieth floor seemed to take forever. I counted my pounding heartbeats, hoping the exercise might provide some sense of calm. It was one Dom used to make me do when my temper or frustration would get the better of me, and it always helped. Not this time. Though this time I thought giving in to my emotions might actually be beneficial, especially when it came to pleading with Mari.

  On floor sixty, the elevator dinged and the doors slid open once more, revealing the medical-chic lobby. It was just past six in the morning, late enough for a receptionist to be sitting at the curved desk a dozen or so yards across the polished composite floor. She looked up as I stepped out of the elevator, and a second later, her arm moved.

  “Security to reception immediately,” she said in a voice that should have been too quiet for me to hear. If I were human. I’m not.

  She watched me cross the lobby, my bootfalls echoing off the walls. I stopped a few yards from the reception desk, hands in my coat pockets. “My name is Kat Dubois. Tell Dr. Marie Jones I’m here,” I said, using Mari’s pseudonym. “She’s looking for me.”

  The receptionist offered me an icy smile. “She isn’t currently in her office.”

  I withdrew my hands from my pockets ever so slowly. “I’m sure you have a way to get ahold of her. All you have to do is let her know I’m here.” I sniffed a laugh. “What could be the harm in that?”

  I heard the sound of multiple pairs of boots pounding against the hard floor. Security was on its way. Dealing with them would be annoying, but hardly much of a hindrance. So long as I could convince the receptionist to get a message to Mari, the plan was still on track.