by Sonya Clark
“You belong to yourself. Never forget that.” He pulled her toward the door. “Let’s go.”
Chapter Thirteen
The buzz of his phone vibrating off the nightstand woke Vadim. He disentangled himself from Lizzie and picked it up, squinting at the screen. It was a text from Tuyet, urging a meeting. He typed a response full of misspellings and code, agreeing to meet later in the day in the main underground meeting room. Lizzie stirred, her leg brushing against his. He dropped the phone and curled himself next to her.
There had been no sex the night before, or talk. She’d fallen into an exhausted sleep almost as soon as they arrived, not even asking questions about the tunnels that had allowed them to bypass the gates or the glamour spell he used to shield her from view and bring her to his apartment above the club. He didn’t want to let her avoid the uncomfortable conversation heading their way much longer, but another hour or two wouldn’t hurt.
The phone buzzed again. He tried to ignore it but it continued. If he weren’t so loath to damage his electronics, he would have succumbed to the temptation to fry it with a blast of energy. Instead he sat up and plucked the phone from the floor.
Can’t wait. I’m outside your door.
Vadim swore. He dressed quickly and hurried to the front room.
Tuyet waited in the hall, pacing. He said, “This better be important.”
With no greeting or preamble she said, “I found a photo of me from a Mexican CCTV camera. Darknet only, with a message asking for any help in identifying me and an email address.”
His chest squeezed and he couldn’t breathe for a moment. “Did you kill it?”
“My very best virus. I ran a trace on the email and wound up going in circles. Whoever did this knows what they’re doing.”
“Did they use magic?”
“No. But I’m pretty sure it’s the same person who cleaned out that account of yours. At first I thought it was random. There were other accounts hit in that bank at the same time. Then I started doing some checking on other underground accounts. Several were cleaned out or the passwords compromised. The railroad accounts were never the only ones hit at each bank, but every bank I’ve found that fell victim to this program had a railroad account.”
Every muscle in his body tightened. “Somebody’s targeting us.”
“This is my fault,” she said. “The picture of me is from the Jennings run.”
“Yeah, I figured. What are the odds anyone who might recognize you saw it before your virus killed it?”
Hands on her hips, she rocked back and forth. “I don’t know. Not high but anything’s possible.”
“What about anybody from Gehenna?” The only thing he knew for sure about her past was that she originally came from the Cleveland zone.
“As far as they know, I’m dead.”
“Anybody else looking for you?” He knew she wouldn’t answer but he asked anyway. He had no proof there were still black-magic operations units—nobody did—but he’d bet the deed on Sinsuality that Tuyet knew something about them.
“No one that will find me.”
“That’s nice and ambiguous. I’ll go into the darknet as soon as I get a chance.”
Tuyet nodded. “I’ll keep digging too, see if I can find this hacker. They’re good but they’re Normal. One of us will find him or her sooner or later.” She paused, eyes on the door. “Unless you want me to leave.”
“You’re far too valuable for me to want you to leave. What I don’t get is, why do you stay? You know all the routes out of the country. You’ve got a Normal ID and money stashed away. You could be free.”
She didn’t answer for a long moment. “It takes more than walking away to be free. I’ll be in touch.”
He closed the door behind her. Lizzie was awake when he returned to the bedroom, and she was wearing one of his shirts and stepping into her skirt. The desire to pull her back to bed taunted him but too much stood in the way. Instead of reaching for her, he shoved his hands in his pockets. “So what do we do first? Talk or breakfast?”
Lizzie sat on the bed. “Talk. I’m too nervous to eat.”
Some of his resolve melted. He sat next to her but not touching. “Tell me about this law.”
She filled him in on everything she knew about the ordinance, including the involvement of Brice Jennings and the implication that there was a group in the shadows pushing for the law. With halting words she gave him more detail about her chief of staff and his revelation.
“Forbes was part of this group.” Vadim spoke to himself as much as to her.
“Apparently.” She sighed, leaning with her elbows on her knees and her hair falling in a tangled cloud around her. “How did you find out about me? You never said.”
He only hesitated a moment before telling her about the Forbes files, leaving out the names of those involved in their acquisition. “There’s a lot there. I’m gonna need to go through it all again, see if I can find anything about this group of concerned citizens. I don’t remember anything remotely like that though.”
“I think Carger is the only one who knows about me. I didn’t get the sense that Jennings has any idea. He probably knows Carger has something on me, but not specifics. I don’t think he’d want me anywhere near this group if he knew I was Magic Born.”
“These people are too rich to be bribed but everybody’s got a skeleton rattling in their closet. We need to figure out how the rest of the council intends to vote and see what we can get on any of them that might be useful. And we need to know who’s working alongside Jennings. Hopefully some of them have something to hide.”
“That means I have to let Carger think I’m going along with this. That I’ll do what he wants.” She stood, pacing in the small space between the bed and the door.
“Are you up for this? Because if you’re not, tell me now and I’ll get you out.” He’d lain awake half the night holding her, thinking about having Tuyet guide her out. Trying not to listen to the voice in the back of his head whispering to go with her.
“What are you talking about?”
“Amelia Jennings and Neil Gussow didn’t just waltz across several states and the Mexican border on their own. They had help. You know that. Brice Jennings knows it. Hell, everybody in New Corinth knows it. They just don’t know specifics.”
“But you do.”
“Of course I do. I can get you out. You can just disappear or we can figure out a way to fake your death. You can go to Mexico and from there, anywhere. Get you on a freighter to Brazil or Australia. Personally, I’d recommend Mexico first and go from there but it would be up to you.”
“Leave? Just like that?”
“I can get the ball rolling today, if you want. You wouldn’t even have to go back to your apartment. Never have to see that chief of staff of yours again. Just say the word.”
The thought of never seeing her again broke something open inside, spilling out a melancholy that filled every part of him. He tried to assuage it with images of her standing on some beach somewhere, free.
“You’ve never asked me why I’m in public service, even though I have an inheritance that would allow me to do nothing. Want to know why?”
“I have been curious about that. Figured you got bored one day and decided to see if politics was any fun.”
She snorted, the sound somehow delicate and ladylike coming from her. “It’s not fun at all, trust me. My father believed in service. He knew I needed to hide who I really am in order to be safe, but he always talked about finding ways to change things. I’ve never relished the thought of higher office but the idea that I might be able to help might make it worth it.” Lizzie returned to his side and took his hand. “It’s foolish to think one person can make a difference. But what if I’m not the only person out there who wants to make a difference? I don
’t know. I’m not saying this well.”
“You want to be in a position to change the laws. To help the Magic Born.”
“Of course I do. Carger’s given me an in with these people. I need to take it.”
“Are you sure you can handle it?” He squeezed her hand, hoping to convey comfort and not the doubt he felt.
“Honestly, I don’t know. But I feel like I need to try.”
“Lizzie.”
She looked away. “I think I’d like that breakfast now.”
He pulled her close, his arm around her waist. “That wasn’t a panic attack last night. That was a nervous breakdown.”
“No.” She pushed away.
Vadim held her firmly but gently. “Sweetheart, that was self-harm. You hit yourself to ground.” The words came out hushed, horrified. “Gods, I’ve seen cutters before and it’s spooky as hell, how calm they are when they do it. What you were like last night, that was... Fuck, I don’t know what that was.”
“I used to cut, when I was a teenager. That’s why they took me to Dr. Forbes. He treated me, put me on antidepressants. Plastic surgery took away the scars but nothing ever really helped. I found other ways to deal with it.”
“The night we were together.” He didn’t want to think about it but he had to get it out. “I thought it was about pleasure.”
“It was! I’d never done anything like that but please don’t think it was the same.” Lizzie buried her face in her hands. “I don’t know how to explain it.”
“Could you try?”
She was quiet for a moment. “I never want to hit myself. Everything gets out of control and even when I can feel it coming on all day, like yesterday, when it hits, it’s fast and hard and it’s like a storm. I can feel my nerves getting tighter and tighter, like my body is sending me a weather forecast, but I can’t stop the storm.”
“What does the hitting do?”
“You said I hit myself to ground. It sounds like you have some ideas of your own.”
“I want to hear what you think first.”
“The pain blocks out everything else. All the noise in my head, what the anxiety is doing to my nerves. It helps me focus and that helps me stop the magic when it gets out of control.”
Exactly what he’d suspected—the pain helped her ground and center. A fake DNA test might have saved her from life in a zone but it had also cut her off from the very people who could have taught her how to work with her gifts. Instead, she’d caused herself harm for years trying to suppress her magic. Anger bubbled like acid in his gut but he did a little suppressing of his own. Lashing out at her dead parents would serve no purpose and besides, he could hardly hate someone for wanting to protect their child. The fact that there were Normals out there who could feel that way gave him a tiny bit of something. He didn’t know what to call it because hope seemed such an impossible thing. It was something, though, and he held on to it.
“I’ve screwed this up royally and it’s made things harder on you,” he said. “I’m gonna bring in help, someone who works with kids and can do a better job of teaching the basics than I can. You’re a fast learner. It won’t take long, but you’ve got to do it.”
“I can’t stay here indefinitely.”
“Just give me today. Is there someone you can call other than your chief of staff? Tell them you’re sick or something.”
Lizzie picked up her purse from the floor and withdrew her phone. “Yes, one of my aides.”
“No matter what else happens, you can’t keep doing that to yourself. No one should do that to themselves.”
“I don’t want to do it,” she said. Her voice shook. She cleared her throat and continued. “It’s just so hard. I hate hiding what I am. I hate that I have this privileged life and I’ve got an uncle who might still be alive in a zone, but what kind of life does he have? People thought I was a snob about Magic Born because I would never come to your club or date a Magic Born. It was fear though.”
“That they’d figure out you’re a witch?”
She nodded. “And that I’d have to look at what my life should have been like. It took me a long time to realize just how ashamed I am of what my parents did for me. I mean, I’m grateful but I’m ashamed at the same time.” The purse slipped from her grasp and fell to the floor. “My head is a confused, fucked-up place and I know it. Maybe that’s why I hit myself too. Because I feel like I deserve it.”
“Gods, no. Don’t think that. Don’t ever think that.” Vadim pulled her into his arms. It seemed a useless gesture but he didn’t know what else to do. “The decision was taken out of your hands before you were even born. You said so yourself. There’s nothing for you to feel ashamed of or guilty about or anything.”
“You think I haven’t tried to tell myself that over and over? When I was cutting, they told me the same thing. I try so hard to believe it but I can’t.” Silent tears shook her body. He watched her struggle to get herself under control. It wasn’t just magic she wanted to suppress, it was emotion. Did she ever even let in the good stuff? Or did walling off the bad take up so much energy that she couldn’t differentiate between the two?
He stroked her hair, lifting the mass from her shoulders and smoothing it down her back. “You don’t have to figure this all out at once. I’m going to fix you some breakfast and a glamour charm and then I’ll go talk to my friend who can help you with some magic basics.”
Moving away from touchy subjects seemed to help her calm down. She wiped her face and retrieved her phone. “I’ll call my aide. Why do I need a glamour charm?”
“Disguise your looks. No one needs to know who you are. I trust my friends but I don’t want to take any chances.”
She considered that for a moment. “Who are you going to tell people I am?”
He shrugged. “Just a woman I met. There’s no need for too many details.” The person he intended to enlist for help knew about both unregistereds and the railroad and would not ask questions.
She tightened her hand on the phone. “Okay.”
“There’s just one thing I’d like.”
“What’s that?”
“Stay late enough tonight to come to Sinsuality. It’s the best part of FreakTown, if I do say so myself.”
“I’d love to. Especially since I was kind of hoping you wouldn’t kick me out until morning, anyway.”
The last thing he needed was to get involved with a damaged woman with secrets and a high public profile, but when she looked at him like that, a smoky heat in her eyes and a seductive curve to her lips... Damn it. He was already in it up to his neck with her. Surely not even hell could burn as hot as the desire she lit in him.
He said, “You’re trouble, you know that?”
“You like trouble.”
He licked his lips. “Yeah. Okay. I’m gonna go while I still have my pants on. Breakfast in twenty minutes.” He pointed at the bathroom door. “Shower’s in there.”
“I’ll think about you while I’m all wet.”
“I know you will.” He grinned and closed the bedroom door behind him.
Chapter Fourteen
Lizzie spent several hours working with a man named Braeden. Around her age with long dark hair held back in a ponytail and a blend of Asian and Hispanic features, he had a quiet, soothing manner that set her at ease immediately. He guided her through the basics of grounding and other early skills taught to young witches. Like she had when working with Vadim, she learned quickly, but doubt lingered.
She wanted this so very much, so much that she’d told Vadim things about herself she’d never admitted to another person willingly. Wanting it didn’t mean she could have it though. Even if she mastered grounding and anything else she needed to learn, that didn’t guarantee she’d be able to keep it together in the middle of a panic attack.
&n
bsp; Vadim returned, quickly sending Braeden on his way. The other man gave her a polite goodbye and Vadim a knowing half smile.
“He said I made really good progress.” She dodged his hands and stepped backward.
“Good. Take the charm off, I want to see you.”
“Oh.” The bracelet hung heavy and warm on her wrist. Made of light brown leather strips with brass beads worked into the braid, it emitted a strong vibration of magic. She unhooked the clasp and dropped the jewelry onto the coffee table. A shimmer of energy rippled around her then evaporated. After staring at the glamour in a mirror for several minutes, she’d forgotten about the mask of slightly altered features with a subtly darker skin tone and dark blond hair. Now she ran her hands through her hair and pulled it forward. Red again.
He dragged her into a deep kiss. Slow and luxurious and erotically enticing, it made her want to pull him down onto his beat-up, uncomfortable couch and ask him sweetly to do wicked things to her. Before she could, he drew away and walked to the bookcase where he kept a shelf full of liquor and glasses.
“Want a drink?” He poured himself a tumbler full of amber liquid.
“No.” She didn’t bother to keep the disappointment out of her voice, or out of the look she gave him.
He downed a generous swallow. “Don’t start. High-functioning addict, remember? Take it or leave it.”
Hypocrisy filled the room with a noxious stink. “So my self-destructive behavior needs to be altered but yours is fine and dandy?”
“Jesus fucking Christ, woman! The gap between self-harm and drinking too much is big enough to fit the fucking Atlantic Ocean in.”
“Right. One makes people squeamish and the other is socially acceptable. You’re an ass, Vadim.” She dropped onto the couch, regretting it immediately as a broken spring attacked her backside.
“Can’t argue with the last part of that.” He left his drink on the shelf and sat next to her. “Look, there’s a lot of things I can do. I can get you out of the country. I can get you black-market spells and charms. Get you into my club without paying the exorbitant cover charge.”
