“Maybe we were asking the wrong questions before.” I glanced up at the ceiling once more and then focused on Elizabeth. “What do you remember?”
She looked to Michael, who gave her a nod.
She said, “My name is Elizabeth Anne Nelson. I was born in Waltham and moved to Boston in 2043 when I was two years old. I worked in the Alliance archives as an assistant librarian from 2061 until six months ago when my belly started to show.” Her lip trembled. “And then I got fired.”
“Why were you fired?” I asked with none of Michael’s gentle encouragement.
Pregnant women didn’t get fired for no reason. In fact, men and women who worked in the Alliance and were expecting a baby were usually given raises and promotions. Departments strove to be known as being family-friendly.
Elizabeth shook her head as tears continued to stream down her face. “I don’t remember,” she whispered. She swallowed. “I remember the police arresting us, and then some men in suits coming before we were taken away. They said we could either go with them willingly or be forced.”
There was something about this woman’s story that struck me as wrong. My lawyer sixth sense was tingling, and I had the sense that maybe this woman knew something important, after all. If only I could ask her the right questions to tease out the information I needed.
“Who were the men in the suits?” I asked. “Where did they take you?”
“They said they were—” she thought about it. “They didn’t say. All they said was they were bringing us to the Lab.” Her terrified look returned and she started to rock in place.
“What lab?” Kaira asked.
“I don’t know!” Elizabeth wailed.
“Bobby Axelrod said something about a lab, too,” I said in a low voice to Kaira while Michael calmed Elizabeth, who was near hysterics. “He and Jonas Meddlesworth were both working there. Could it be the same lab she’s talking about?”
Kaira lifted a shoulder. “Maybe? But this lady doesn’t look like she’s involved with drugs unless she’s using, but even then, they wouldn’t have brought her to the lab where they make the drug….”
Maybe she had been in some kind of rehab center. That would explain the hospital gown.
High-pitched whimpering sounds were coming from Elizabeth. I felt myself cringing in anticipation of a second march of the insects.
“Michael, do something,” A.J. pleaded. “My heebie jeebie quota is all used up for today.”
“Here.” Yutika scribbled on her sketch pad. A few seconds later, a stress ball with a smiley face plopped down onto the ground beside Elizabeth. “No more mice, okay?”
Or spiders….
Nodding, Elizabeth picked up the stress ball and squeezed it in her fist.
Thank you, A.J. mouthed to her, putting his hands together and bowing his head like he was worshipping her.
“That’s interesting.”
We all turned to Smith, whose gaze was flying back and forth between his open laptop screens.
“What?” Kaira asked.
“There’s no record of an Elizabeth Anne Nelson anywhere. No tracker, no file, no record of her ever having worked at the Alliance.”
“Maybe she forgot her own name,” Yutika said. “She’s obviously cracked.”
“I am not!” Elizabeth snarled. “The Alchemists poison the air, and it makes us forget. And—”
“How did you escape this lab?” I interrupted what sounded like a conspiracy that belonged on one of Smith’s dark web blogs.
“I found a shard of glass in my cell. I killed the man when he came in and stole his keycard.” She looked at Michael, a desperate, pleading look in her eyes. “I didn’t mean to kill him. I just wanted to get away.”
“I know,” Michael said, giving her a comforting smile. “Don’t worry. You’re safe now.”
“I knew it,” Smith gloated. “The Alliance is experimenting on Mags. Probably took her baby to—”
“Not now, Smith,” Kaira warned.
“How else do you explain all of this?” Smith said, wilting a little under Kaira’s gaze.
I didn’t know, but I knew that there had to be a better explanation than one of Smith’s conspiracy theories. I also didn’t think Yutika was right, that this woman was just insane.
“Where’s your boyfriend now?” I asked, still unable to shake the feeling that if I could only ask the right question, something important would be revealed.
Elizabeth’s scared, confused expression softened. “Benji,” she murmured, before turning her watery gaze on Michael. “They killed him.”
“I know,” Michael said in sympathy.
“What was Benji’s last name?” I asked.
“Murell,” she replied.
Smith’s hands stayed folded across his chest as webpages opened themselves on his screen.
“Benjamin Murell, age twenty-five, found dead in his Boston apartment due to apparent suicide,” I read off the screen.
“It wasn’t suicide!” Elizabeth shouted. “They killed him!”
I waited for the skittering of tiny legs across the wood floors to go quiet before I asked, “Why would they want Benji dead?”
Elizabeth’s chin wobbled as she shook her head. “We’re nobodies. I’m just a Level 1 Animalist.”
“And was Benji also an Animalist?” I asked, knowing I was grasping at straws.
“He was a Nat,” Elizabeth said.
Every face in the room turned to her at once. Realizing her mistake, Elizabeth slapped a hand over her mouth.
“Holy guacamole,” A.J. exclaimed. “You did it with a Nat?”
“Baby killer!” Bri shouted.
She launched to her feet. Her skin had gone full titanium, and she was starting toward Elizabeth.
“Stop it,” Kaira commanded, moving to stand in front of Elizabeth, who was sobbing and quaking.
“You sick bitch,” Bri gasped, titanium tears rolling down her cheeks and plunking down on the hardwood floor. She wiped a silver hand across her eyes. “Get out of my way, Kaira,” she said.
Before I even thought about what I was doing, I had moved to stand beside Kaira.
“Bri, just calm down,” I tried.
“My niece died because of a baby killer!”
Plink, plink, plink.
More titanium tears hit the floor and scattered.
Bri shouted, “One of your twisted freak babies was born in the same ward as my niece, and she died because of it. We never even got to bring her home. My brother and sister-in-law haven’t been the same since. And it’s your fault. It’s your fault!”
Bri collapsed into Kaira’s arms, sobbing.
Kaira hugged the other girl, murmuring soft words into her ear.
“I guess we know why the authorities were after them,” Yutika said, looking at Elizabeth with disgust.
“We were in love,” Elizabeth whispered.
My throat tightened. I couldn’t help myself. I looked at Kaira. Her expression was guarded and she pointedly kept her gaze fixed on Bri, who still looked like she might murder Elizabeth if given half a chance.
It was a stark reminder about what it meant to break the third high law. Bri was one of the nicest, most easy-going people I’d ever met. Even when she was beating people up, she wasn’t angry about it. But now….
“You had a baby together?” Kaira asked Elizabeth. Her voice wavered just a little. I doubted anyone else had noticed.
Elizabeth nodded. “I have to find her.”
“My husband’s a cancer survivor. His immune system is compromised!” one of the women on the other side of the room yelled. Her face was red with fury. “I don’t want that DAMND baby anywhere near our family!”
My attention had been so fixated on Elizabeth, I had forgotten those other people were even here. I glanced at them now. Every one of their faces was filled with a mixture of disgust and hatred.
It was the way they’d be looking at Kaira and me if they knew.
Unbidden, the images
I had seen in every health and science class since middle school crowded into my mind. Fetuses horribly deformed. Misshapen heads and fingerless hands. The graveyard in Missouri filled with tombstones. Hundreds of infant-sized caskets from a singled DAMND baby.
Kaira looked like she was having as much trouble holding herself together as I was. I had a sudden, desperate urge to wrap my arms around her. I wanted to do whatever it would take to erase that stricken look from her face. I wanted to shield her from the loathing expressions on her friends’ faces.
But of course, if I so much as took her hand, the rest of the Six would be staring at us the same way they were staring at Elizabeth now…like she was filthy…a monster.
Baby killers.
I heard Kaira’s shuddering breath before she said, “Yutika, work on getting Elizabeth new documents and enough money to go wherever she wants. Michael, do whatever you have to in order to convince her to forget about her child and worry about her own survival. I’ll illusion her, and then we’ll escort her to the airport and make sure she doesn’t have any trouble getting out of the city.”
“We’re helping her?” Yutika squeaked in protest.
“She’s a Mag in trouble,” Kaira replied, her voice tight with all the emotions she was hiding.
My chest ached. I could see how much Kaira was hurting. It went against every instinct I had to let her suffer while I just stood by.
“I thought we only helped unMarked Mags,” Bri added, throwing a look full of hate at Elizabeth.
“She is unMarked,” Kaira said. “Otherwise Smith would have found her records.”
“Are we going to start helping murderers and rapists now?” Bri asked, her voice rising.
“Would you really count her crime as equal to murder and rape?” Kaira demanded, incredulous.
“Just because her mutant child hasn’t killed anyone yet, it doesn’t mean that it won’t,” Bri shot back. She gave Elizabeth a freezing look. “Baby killer.”
“This woman has lost enough,” Kaira said, her tone final. “Now, get to work on her papers. Then, we’re going home.”
CHAPTER 21
The sun had risen by the time we’d made all the arrangements for Elizabeth and dropped her off at the airport. I was bleary-eyed with exhaustion, my joints were on fire, and I was shivering from a low-grade fever. I could tell the others were struggling, too. I’d gotten about five hours of sleep in the past three days, and I could barely see straight anymore. But the idea of sleeping, when the next murder was about to happen, was like a shot of adrenaline in my veins every time I thought about it.
I slumped onto the couch as soon as we got inside the house. The cushions dipped as the others crowded around beside me.
“We need to find out about this lab everyone seems to be involved with,” I said. I was so tired my words slurred together. “Maybe if we can find the connection, we’ll have something to give the police before the next murder.”
“Um, it’s a little late for that.”
Before any of us could ask questions, headlines and images began to appear on the blank wall.
I sat up so fast my head spun.
Boston Mayor Found Brutally Slain, the top headline said. The bolded text below read, Boston’s second-term Natural mayor was found dead in his home at 7:59am. The words ‘NATS GET OUT’ were written in blood across his front door.
“Oh God,” Bri said.
“Shit,” added Smith.
I felt my gorge rise. This was my fault. If I had turned myself in yesterday, the Mayor would still be alive.
“Do I need to block the door again?” A.J. asked Kaira, giving me a pointed stare.
I was too numb to move. I kept reading the headlines, feeling an icy stab in my heart with each one.
UnAllied Magic takes Credit for Murder. Sentenced to Death for Tuesday AM
Record Number of Magics Expected to Attend Valencia Stark’s Rally on Saturday
Murder Toll: 2 Mags, 2 Nats; Convict Toll: 2 Mags, 0 Nats
Where in the World is…Graysen Galder?
“Jeez,” Yutika said. “That’s four murders in….”
“Four days,” Michael finished.
Their words were just background noise at first; all of my attention was fixed on the headlines. Once my brain made sense of their words, I jolted to my feet. I clutched my head. I couldn’t believe it had taken me this long to put the pieces together.
“Gray?” Kaira asked.
“Restrain him,” A.J. called. “I’ll get the handcuffs.”
But I didn’t go toward the door. I turned to Smith. “Pull up the Alliance’s Report of Laws.”
Smith’s eyes moved, and the enormous PDF began to load on the blank wall.
“Go to Section 278, Article 3, 998J” I ordered.
“You’re kidding, right?” Yutika asked.
“He’s not,” Kaira said, and I thought I heard the hint of pride in her voice.
The document scrolled across the wall until the appropriate cover page was displayed.
“Page fifteen,” I said, my pulse speeding up. “Maybe sixteen.”
“Well whaddya know? We got a Level 10 Brainiac on our hands.” A.J. smirked. He was at the top of the stairs, a pair of pink, fuzzy handcuffs dangling from his hand.
Smith enlarged the text and started to scroll. My eyes were glued to the moving text.
“Stop,” I said. “Blow up that third paragraph.”
Smith extended his thumb and index finger in midair, and the text on the wall expanded.
A.J. read out loud: “The Alliance is an organization that was chosen by the people of Boston, but if at any time it no longer meets the promises of its founding principles to protect and serve both Naturals and Magics, then either group may independently choose to dissolve the organization by a two-thirds majority vote. To ensure both Natural and Magic interests are upheld, a vote for disbanding will automatically be triggered if there is an undue number of magically-motivated murders in Boston over a confined period.”
The room went silent.
“Holy crap,” Yutika said, effectively summing up what we were all thinking.
“It’s a conspiracy,” Smith said, sounding delighted. “I told you.”
“You say everything’s a conspiracy,” Yutika pointed out. “You were bound to be right eventually.”
“Someone’s trying to take down the Alliance.” I sank back down onto the couch as a wave of dizziness took hold of me.
“That’s going to start a civil war,” Michael said, incredulous. “Who would ever want to do that?”
For some reason, the question made me think of the last moments of Bobby Axelrod’s life. As he was choking to death on his lethal concoction, he had been making a strange sound.
Vvvv.
At the time, I had thought it was just his horrible choking. But he had looked so determined, like he was trying to tell me something in the last moments of his life…something important.
Vvvv.
I buried my face in my hands while the others continued to speculate.
“Whoever it is, we need to find them before they instigate any more murders,” Michael was saying. “If Graysen’s right, these killings won’t stop until the Alliance has been dissolved.”
“How are we supposed to do that?” A.J. asked. “We still don’t have the first clue about who’s behind these murders.”
Come on, I told myself. The answer was right there, hovering at the edge of my consciousness. I just had to reach out and grab it.
I sat up. Bobby Axelrod’s last attempt at a word…that section in the Alliance’s Report of Laws….
“Who has the most to gain from a civil war between Naturals and Magics?” I asked.
The others gave me a blank look.
“I’ll give you a hint.” I felt a grim smile pull at the corners of my mouth. “Her name begins with a ‘V’.”
For a few seconds, no one spoke.
A giant image popped up on the wall. We all stared a
t the zebra-print dress, giant leopard-print purse, wild red hair, and dark storm cloud hanging over the Alliance building.
“Valencia Stark,” Kaira breathed.
CHAPTER 22
It was so obvious, I couldn’t believe it hadn’t occurred to me before.
Valencia Stark wanted to destroy the Alliance, which would result in the war between Naturals and Magics she’d always advocated for. It wasn’t much of a leap to assume she had orchestrated a series of murders throughout the city, beginning with Penelope, to debilitate the only system that had thus far worked to bring peace between Magics and Naturals. As opposed to a few weeks ago when Valencia was the joke of the city, now, Magics were listening to her.
I clenched my fists as a burst of hatred rushed through me like wildfire. This woman was responsible for ruining my life. She was responsible for the death of four people. And she’d done it because she was trying to destroy the Alliance and replace it with her organization’s agenda of intolerance and violence.
Everyone was talking at once. Cell phones, silverware, and other household items buzzed around the room as A.J. waved his hands in animation.
“What do we do now?” Bri asked. Her skin kept going from flesh to titanium and back again.
“We may be against Marking,” Kaira said, “but if the Alliance falls, there will be nothing to keep Boston from slipping into the gutters.”
“And when Valencia nominates herself as the new governing power of Boston, we’ll be worse off than even the worst cities,” I said. “She’ll try to enslave Naturals.”
“And Nats won’t take that sitting down,” A.J. added. “They’ll bring in the military. Boston’ll turn into another Detroit.”
Michael’s face paled, and I remembered Yutika telling me that Michael was from Detroit.
“So, what do we do?” Yutika asked.
“We could go to the police,” Bri suggested. “Tell them what we know.”
A week ago, I would have agreed with Bri. I’d believed so fully in the system that made Boston better than everywhere else in the country. Now, the memory of my arrest was too raw for me to have faith in that particular branch of law enforcement.
The Nat Makes 7 (Mags & Nats Book 1) Page 16
