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by Max Gladstone

“Why are you telling me?” he asked, teeth gritted.

  She smiled. One of her front teeth was crooked. He found that easier to look at than her inhuman eyes. “Because seeing how you react when I spread havoc is a large part of my plan. I’m not just getting what’s mine. I’m also making you chase me.”

  His hands itched to close around her neck. But the human host that Hannah had taken over was innocent in all this, and the beast would just exit the host if things got too dangerous.

  “What if I don’t chase you?” he asked. “You won’t get what you want.”

  “Oh but I will. I’ll find what I need to find a lot more easily without you bothering me, and then I get the amusement of seeing you get fired from your little club. They’re not going to let you stand and watch while I play my games.” Her eyes narrowed and her wide smile shrank to a smirk. “Otherwise you might have to tell them who I really am. They’re going to be thrilled when they finally find out.”

  The woman blinked and staggered, her silver eyes turning brown. He reached out and steadied her, telling himself he was not going to hurt an innocent, and this was no longer Hannah.

  She looked up at him, confusion and slight fear crossing her face. “Father? Why—how did I get here?”

  He let go and stepped back, giving her space. “I don’t know,” he said. “You were staggering around and I caught you to keep you from falling.” He hated himself for the next part, but it was a reasonable, non-magical assumption to make. “Have you been drinking?”

  “I don’t think so?” she said, her forehead creasing.

  He pulled out his cell phone. “Let me call you a taxi. Get home and get some rest.”

  As he dialed, Hannah’s words played in his mind. She was right. What would Team Three (not to mention Fox and the other teams) say when they found out?

  • • •

  Asanti and Liam were arguing.

  “We should call her, we’re already one down because of Grace abandoning us,” Liam said.

  “Sal needs a break and needs to spend time with her parents,” Asanti said, writing something down from the glowing Orb.

  “You mean she needs to watch her brother to make sure he doesn’t say something or turn them into puddles of goo for some mysterious reason us lowly humans wouldn’t understand,” Liam said.

  “Your description is graphically extreme, but in general that did cross my mind,” Asanti admitted. She looked up. “Hello, Arturo. It’s time.”

  “We’ll call Sal if we need her,” Menchú said as he accepted the paper Asanti held out to him. “It’s my belief that a magical being is here hunting something.”

  She looked at him sharply. “How do you know that?”

  “Team Two has intel,” he said. The lies were coming more easily now.

  “I don’t get it,” Liam said. “Do we have any idea what it’s looking for?”

  “No,” Menchú said.

  Liam slipped his laptop into his backpack. “Is it at the museum now?”

  Menchú nodded. “I believe we need to get moving.”

  “So if we don’t know what we’re looking for, we’re just moonlighting as museum security?” Liam asked Menchú. “That’s a bit of a step down.”

  “We do our jobs,” Menchú said sharply.

  “How is that different than usual?” Liam asked.

  “It’s different because the Vatican has a much more vested interest in the outcome of this mission,” Menchú said.

  Asanti nodded. “This has less to do with evil and magic and demons. It’s much more important. It’s money.”

  Menchú glared at her, but didn’t contradict her. Oh, how he wanted to.

  3.

  Sal and Perry took their parents to their hotel and waited for them in the lobby while they freshened up. Sal wanted to “check in with work” and Perry said he would keep her company. Of course, after Sal settled on a couch next to a large potted plant, Perry disappeared.

  Sal looked at her phone and Perry appeared soon after he’d left, holding two mimosas. He handed her one and joined her on the couch.

  He took a deep drink. “This is amazing.”

  “Getting plastered right before we hang with the parents, great idea,” Sal said, but sipped the mimosa. “You better get rid of yours, though. They think you’re clean. Do you want to have The Conversation again?”

  “I never said I was clean, that was you,” he said, and took a sip. “Besides, the addictions this body once had are effectively gone.”

  “They won’t understand that because that’s not how human addiction tends to work, so unless you want to explain that Step 5.5 of Alcoholics Anonymous involves possession, you should finish that before they get down.” She took a deep drink of her own mimosa to steady her nerves. “Do you have any ideas about how to keep them occupied today?”

  “Come on, the obvious thing is a tour of the Vatican.” Perry said, smiling slightly. “They probably want to know where you work.”

  Sal snorted. “No, I really don’t want to do that.”

  The elevator dinged and opened. Perry simultaneously waved with one hand and casually tipped his champagne flute into the potted plant next to the couch. He nudged the glass behind the stalk and sat back up as their parents approached. Their mother frowned at the glass still in Sal’s hand.

  “Sal, why are you drinking in front of Perry? Before ten o’clock, even?” Jennifer said. “It’s not healthy for his recovery.”

  “The bartender said he had some champagne left over from a bachelorette party and offered it for a mimosa,” Perry said. “We said why not?” Their parents glared at him. “Well. Sal said why not. I sat here and watched her like the good boy in recovery that I am.”

  Sal stared at him as shock and rage—that special sibling rage that she held only for her brother—battled within her to become the primary emotion. “That’s not exactly how it happened,” she said. “Perry brought me one.”

  “Did not,” he said.

  Bradley held up his hand. “Enough. I don’t care who is right or wrong, but the fact is Sal shouldn’t be drinking in front of Perry. Even if he says it’s all right.” He frowned at his son. “Recovery is a serious thing. If you don’t see it as important then you can easily slide backward. Have you found an AA group in Rome to attend?”

  Perry nodded. “I have a sponsor who keeps close tabs on me, don’t worry.”

  Jennifer looked between her kids and then sighed. “I can only do so much as your mother. You’re going to have to make your own mistakes or not without me looking over your shoulder.”

  Sal relaxed internally. That was her mother’s “I’m giving you this battle but not the war” voice. She straightened when her mother looked at her sharply and pointed to the champagne flute.

  “Leave that here. Let’s go to breakfast.”

  She nodded and put the flute on the side table next to the plant.

  Perry put his arm around Jennifer. “I’m really fine, Mom. Better than ever, honestly.”

  Sal fought the desire to roll her eyes. It was going to be a long visit.

  “I want to get some food and hear what you kids have been up to,” Bradley said.

  “Then museums,” Jennifer said. “The guide says you could spend a whole week and not see all the Vatican museums.”

  Sal groaned inwardly. “Are you sure? Rome has a ton of other sights to see. The Colosseum? The Arch of Constantine?”

  “We’re here for a few days, we’ll get to them,” said her father. Sal and Perry stood and their parents nodded to the doorman, who opened the door to let them exit. “Where do you recommend for breakfast?”

  “Who’s for Antonio’s? They have a great brunch,” Perry said, and led the way to the restaurant, Sal glaring at his back the whole time.

  • • •

  Sal and Perry had gone through two espressos each before Jennifer broached the subject of work.

  “Perry, have you found a job here yet?” she asked as a waiter delivered a platte
r of pastries.

  Sal choked on a bit of pastry while Perry smiled. “I’m actually doing some work at the Vatican with Sal, in security,” he said.

  Sal’s eyes went wide. What are you doing? She still wasn’t sure if he could read her mind or not, but she sent him please shut the fuck up messages as hard as she could.

  Bradley frowned, shaking his head. “Perry, no establishment as serious as the Vatican would hire you for security. There’s no way you would pass a background check.”

  “Why are you lying to us?” Jennifer asked. “If you need something, just ask. Do you need money? Do you need to come back home?”

  See? Sal tried to think at him.

  Perry laughed. “No, I’m just fucking with you. Sal’s still there; I’m doing security at a club. Makes good money and I’m learning Italian. But I’m pretty sure I’m only learning the swear words.”

  Jennifer relaxed. “In my experience, bouncers don’t say much else,” she said. “How long have you worked there?”

  “About three months now?” He looked at Sal for confirmation, and she did fast math. That would work, she decided, and nodded at him.

  “That’s about right,” Sal said.

  Bradley wasn’t so easily placated. “Why would you lie, Perry?”

  He shrugged and looked down at his napkin, still folded next to his plate. “Because Sal really is working for the Vatican, and you’re always proud of her. I wanted to see what it was like.”

  Sal froze, but Perry had done some masterful deflection. Jennifer pounced. “Perry, we are proud of you! For so many reasons. You’ve beaten addiction, moved across the world to reinvent yourself, and it looks like you’re doing an amazing job staying clean. We love you so much we flew over here to see you.”

  Perry slowly nodded. “I know. It’s just hard to get back to seeing myself as something other than a fuckup.”

  “You’re not a fuckup.” Jennifer reached out and took his hand.

  Sal looked at his face over their mother’s shoulder, expecting to see him looking slyly back at her, but he had locked eyes with Jennifer, looking so much like his old self that Sal’s chest ached.

  Sal wasn’t off the hook; she shouldn’t have underestimated her mother. Jennifer broke the hug, with tears in her eyes, and then turned to Sal. “And the Vatican? How is that going?”

  Sal gritted her teeth. “Pretty good.” More espresso arrived and she reached for her cup. Her parents watched her silently, but she didn’t elaborate.

  “Well then you should be able to get us discounts for the museums,” Bradley said brightly after half a minute of silence had passed.

  Sal swallowed the bitter coffee. “I can try.”

  • • •

  Liam’s phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen and barked out a laugh. “Hey, Sal wants discounted tickets to the museums.” He turned to Asanti. “Do we get employee perks like that?”

  “Yes, just have her show her ID. It should be fine,” Asanti said, then looked up slowly. “Wait. Did you say Sal’s going to the museums? With her parents? And Perry?”

  “Oh. Shit,” Liam said. “And they’re going to have to stand in line for it, too.” He grimaced, remembering the one time he tried to patiently stand in line during the free Sunday to see the museums, with a Polish family arguing loudly behind him and a South African couple in the middle of a breakup weeping in front of him. Never again.

  “Should I tell her not to go?” he asked.

  Asanti shook her head. “Sal didn’t forget we’re watching the museums. And if her parents are anything like her, do you think she can keep them away if they’re determined?”

  Liam tried to picture the personalities that had to have raised Sal and Perry, and grinned. “Point taken.”

  “Just tell her we’ll be there and she needs to keep an eye out,” Menchú said. “If something happens she has to get her parents and Perry out of there immediately. They are her priority.”

  Liam nodded and thumbed a quick answer to Sal.

  “They’re only going to let us close one of the museums,” Menchú said. “They refuse to close the churches.”

  “What? That doesn’t help fuck all,” Liam said. “What if there’s a demon building a tower made out of babies in the Sistine Chapel?” Menchú glared at him, and Liam subsided. “It could happen.”

  Menchú shook his head. “We need to be discreet. For all we know, the demon is purposefully trying to bankrupt the Vatican via the museums,” he said. “So long as she wreaks havoc she’s satisfied,” he added under his breath.

  Liam nodded and put his backpack on. Then he paused.

  Did he say she?

  He wrote to Sal something altogether different than Menchú had directed.

  • • •

  Sal swallowed the dread rising in her chest at Liam’s text. She slipped her phone in her pocket so Perry couldn’t spy the message.

  “On a good day, I can get you in for cheap,” Sal said. “But it looks like they’re closed today for fumigation.”

  “Fumigation. Every one of the Vatican museums,” Jennifer said, deadpan.

  They stood outside a small corner store that sold SIM cards while Jennifer fiddled with both her and Bradley’s phones to insert the new cards so the phones would work in Europe.

  Perry pointed down the road. “Those people are going to be super pissed, then,” he said.

  Sal saw that she’d been caught in the lie. “Tickets are sold out?” she said desperately.

  “What is going on here, Sal?” her mother said sternly. “Why don’t you want us at the museums? Are you ashamed of us?”

  No, I just don’t want you to be eaten by a demon. Or find out that I work with a motley crew of survivors to quash the rising tide of magic from drowning us all.

  She looked at Perry, begging him to help her out.

  “She’s seen the museums, Mom,” Perry said. “She probably just doesn’t want to feel like she’s going to work. Don’t worry, Sal, I can take them. We’ll meet you for dinner tonight.”

  You asshole, she thought, and shook her head. “I’m sorry, Mom, work is … tough lately. And if you saw me interact with my coworkers it might be weird.”

  There. None of that had been a lie. She was pleased with herself.

  “Why didn’t you say so?” Jennifer said, and Sal relaxed, but only briefly. “We’ll be one hundred percent tourists today. You won’t even have to point out if we’re near coworkers. Don’t introduce us to anyone.”

  “Perfect!” said Perry.

  Sal’s phone buzzed again. Did you receive? Stay away today. We don’t know what’s going down, but something is.

  Any idea where? Sal asked. They’re determined to see the museums and I can’t keep them away.

  NO WE DON’T KNOW EXACTLY WHERE, he replied immediately. DID YOU THINK WE REFINED THE ORB IN THE HOURS YOU’VE BEEN GONE?

  The next text came in immediately as she was typing her response: And lie to them! Keep them away! Use your fucking gun if you have to!

  Sal gave her parents a tight smile. “Yeah, it’s best if you don’t meet them. My coworkers can be assholes,” she said. “Dad, why don’t you buy tickets online? That’ll be faster than me trying to get a last-minute discount, and we can skip that wait.” She waved her phone vaguely toward the huge line of Vatican visitors.

  She turned back to her phone. OK, asshole. #1: I tried lying. #2: I’m not pulling a gun on my PARENTS. #3: They’re ex-police and ex-military. They’d disarm me in 1 sec. Disinherit me in 2 secs. I’ll keep my eye out. We’ll be careful. If you find out what’s going on, let me know. She pressed Send and put her phone back in her pocket.

  “Sorry about that,” Sal said. She took one look at the Vatican ahead of her, and swallowed. “Let’s go.”

  • • •

  There was a long wait for tickets purchased online, although it was smaller than the other queue. Her parents tactfully avoided asking why Sal couldn’t just skip the line, and instead latched on to t
he other topic Sal was hoping to avoid.

  “So what about your personal lives? Either of you dating anyone?” Jennifer asked.

  Perry laughed out loud. “I only meet party girls in clubs, so no, I am definitely single.”

  Jennifer shook her head. “You don’t want to get involved with a woman like that.”

  “Don’t slut-shame, Mom,” Sal said.

  Jennifer looked surprised. “I’m not. But partying girls are usually not the kind of women who are looking for a guy in addiction recovery.”

  “Oh. That’s true,” Sal said, thinking there was another reason Perry shouldn’t date.

  “It sucks, though,” Perry said. “It gets lonely sometimes. And I’d like someone to woo.”

  “Woo?” Sal asked, frowning at him. He shrugged.

  “That’s understandable,” Jennifer said, and turned her attention to Sal. “What about you?”

  Sal fingered her phone in her pocket and thought of Liam. “I was seeing someone a while back—someone from work, actually—but that ended. We had religious differences, I guess you could say.”

  Bradley frowned in sympathy. “That’s the worst. I remember dating a Catholic in college, and that went nowhere.”

  Jennifer smacked him on the arm. “Shh,” she said, looking around. “Remember where you are.”

  Bradley smiled sheepishly. “Oh, right. Well, it doesn’t change the history. I had an unsuccessful relationship with a woman in college. I can relate.”

  Jennifer shook her head, disgusted. “I can’t take you anywhere,” she said. Bradley smiled at her and kissed her on the top of the head. “Anyway, I’m sorry it didn’t work out,” she said to Sal. “Was this a woman or man?”

  Sal blushed. “It was a guy. Why do you ask?”

  “You didn’t use pronouns. And if you were dating a woman I can’t imagine that would be very welcome in a Catholic city.”

  “Jesus, can’t you two stop investigating for two minutes? You’re retired,” Sal said, exasperated.

  “Besides,” Perry cut in. “Being gay is legal here, even civil unions. So if Sal wanted to date a girl, I don’t think they could say much. Although her direct boss might have a problem with it,” he said, and winked at her.

 

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