by M. D. Archer
“You weren’t getting anywhere.”
“I told you, we are making progress.”
“You are? Do you know anything about him, except that he is Lucan? Did you know he is foreign? That he has an accent?”
Rica flinches but lets me continue, watching me with narrowed eyes.
“The police are making more progress than you are. Why didn’t one of you have the sense to do what I did and find out what the police know so you can catch this psycho.”
“Tamzin? You knew something about the Crawler and didn’t tell us?” Nikolai has appeared on the stairs behind Rica. The betrayal in his expression hammers home how stupid it was of me to keep the accent clue to myself.
“That’s it, then,” Rica says with finality, holding my gaze for a second before sweeping past me down the stairs. He leaves, but there is no way that this is over.
Nikolai descends the stairs toward me. “I could tell that you were holding something back. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I was in enough trouble already. Because he was murdering people, and it was all connected to me. And I was going to tell you, but then you said you didn’t have a database and…”
Nikolai shakes his head, his eyes cloudy and unreadable. He passes me on the stairs, eerily reminiscent of Rica’s exit just moments before.
“Nikolai,” I call out, but he doesn’t turn back.
EVERYTHING IS SUCH a mess.
I pace Dana’s apartment, angry and miserable. I know I shouldn’t have kept that clue from them, but they didn’t give me a choice. They insisted that I do nothing, but I was the one the Crawler was trying to implicate. So what do I do now? I step out onto the balcony and take gulps of air, as if the answer is in the ether and I might be able to breathe it in. I fidget from foot to foot, unable to stop my incessant motion. I can’t stay here. I have to go do something.
I scrawl a note for Dana, and ten minutes later, I’m downtown. I take my favorite spot on top of the T Tower and look out across the city. The lights twinkle cheerfully, unaware of the torment raging inside me. Did I do everything wrong? Have I made one mistake after the other? I’m pretty good at screwing up my life, so why should anything be different because I’m Lucan? Now the stakes are higher and the fuckups are monumental. God, I have to get out of my head. I’m driving myself crazy. I scan the streets looking for distress or danger, but it’s an eerily quiet night. I climb down and stalk through the streets looking for anything to distract me. As the night progresses, the rain develops from a light shower to a heavy downpour, but I don’t bother to shield myself. I let the fat, angry droplets of water drum onto my head in an unrelenting stream as I roam the city. I’m soaking wet by the time I make my return to Dana’s at daybreak.
She greets me at the door. “Tamzin, we’ve got a problem.”
Chapter 32
“So you had an interesting meeting with Rica,” she says, standing in the doorway.
Uh-oh.
“What exactly did you say to him?”
“I, uh, not much really.”
Dana purses her lips and raises one eyebrow.
“Okay, he said that I shouldn’t have taken the amulet off and that I should be punished, and I said that I would like to see him try.”
Dana shakes her head. “Well, if you wanted to piss him off, then well done, mission accomplished.” Dana disappears into the bathroom then returns a second later with a towel and hands it to me. “You’re making a mess.”
I dry my hair and then mop up the small puddle at my feet.
“Dana? What’s going on?”
“Rica is calling your bluff.”
“Huh?”
“You said you wanted to see him try to punish you, and now he is trying.”
My stomach feels like lead. “Why do I have such a big mouth?”
“I don’t know, but since we don’t have a time machine, or the benefit of frequent flyer miles, for that matter”—Dana casts a look at me—“we can’t worry about that now.”
“What should we worry about?”
“The punishment the Consillium is dishing out, and Tam, it’s not good. I’m sorry, but it’s really not good.” Dana takes a seat on the couch, looking, for the first time ever, defeated.
I clutch at her arm. “Tell me.”
“Okay, so the Consillium have Enforcers. They are Lucans who enforce the Code of the Consillium. If you have rules, you need consequences for breaking them, or at the very least the threat of consequences. So the Enforcers were set up as a way to keep Lucans in line.”
“Don’t be naughty or the big bad Enforcers will come get you?”
Dana nods. “Now, when the Consillium Principali have an issue they can’t deal with, then they will dispatch an Enforcer to go sort it out.”
“And what do you mean exactly by ‘sort it out’?”
Dana raises her eyebrows and makes a throat-slitting gesture. “Their orders are to kill.”
Shit.
“Why didn’t anyone tell me about this?”
“Because no one ever thought it would be something you would have to worry about. They don’t send out Enforcers very often, Tam, especially to deal with Lucans who are part of the Consillium. It’s usually the last resort. This is pretty much as serious as it gets.”
I look down. Dana had warned me but I hadn’t taken it seriously.
“So who are they? I mean, what do they do?”
“They are trained fighters and they usually have extra skills. They are selected pretty soon after they Become and are trained for this job exclusively. It is considered a privilege to be selected. Many try, but only those most suitable are chosen. Only those with enhanced skills, like telepathy and strength, or agility. But also, usually they have certain personality traits.”
“Like?”
“A lack of empathy.”
Oh great. Inhumane killing machines.
Dana takes in my expression. “Like I said, it’s not good.”
“So….”
“Hang on,” Dana says as her phone rings. “It’s Vincent,” she says. She moves through the living room to her bedroom as she answers. “What’s up?”
Instead of using my Lucan hearing to eavesdrop, I stay where I am and think about the craziness that is my life now. My biggest worry used to be dropping out of college. Now, a Lucan assassin is coming to get me.
Good progress.
Dana returns to tell me in no uncertain terms that it’s time for bed.
“We need to get some sleep to prepare for the shitstorm that is heading our way.”
I smile weakly at Dana’s use of the word “we.”
“Vincent is going find out more details and meet us here tonight.”
“But, he’s Consillium Principali… Wouldn’t that be against the rules?”
“Vincent is just coming to talk to you, give you some advice. He’s not breaking any rules in doing that.” Dana’s eyes shift away. “I don’t think.” She extends her hand and helps me off the couch. “I know it hasn’t always seemed like it, but he does have your back. And things won’t seem so bad after some sleep, I’m sure of it.”
But Dana is wrong.
Chapter 33
Dana stands at the door frozen with shock as Vincent strides past her into the apartment. “Are you kidding? They’re sending three Enforcers?”
I stay where I am on the couch. I’m not sure my legs work.
Vincent nods. “Three.” Crouching down next to the couch, he takes both of my hands in his. “Tamzin, I’m sorry.” He stares into my eyes. “This is extreme and unnecessary.”
“And unfair,” I add. “How can Rica do this? He’s liaison to London, but you’re the West Coast head. Can’t you, like, cancel the order or something?”
Vincent rubs his jaw. “The structure, and politics of the Consillium”—he casts a jaded look at Dana—“are complicated. Rica is closer to the head office. He is certainly closer to Marcus, the head of the western sector.”
“So he outranks you.”
“What Rica is doing may be out of line. I’ve been trying to get hold of Marcus in London, to double check.”
“And this Marcus dude could call it off?”
“Possibly.”
“Guys,” Dana interjects. “Now is not the time to discuss the Consillium hierarchy. Three Enforcers are coming and we need to prepare.” She tugs at a leather-bound folder Vincent has tucked under his arm. “What have you got there?”
“It’s a dossier, a file on each of the Enforcers.” Vincent drops it on the table in front of me. It lands with a bang. A guttural sound escapes me.
“With this information, we can prepare you, Tam. You’re strong. Stronger than me, stronger than Dana. You have a chance.”
I’m numb. It’s as if I have stepped out of my body and I’m watching a scene from a movie. A scene from someone else’s sucky life.
Vincent disappears into the kitchen and returns with a bottle of whiskey and three tumblers. “I think we deserve the good stuff drink.”
Dana nods. “We definitely need the strong stuff.”
And so, we go through the files on the Enforcers. The whiskey is replaced by coffee as we work through the night, poring over each of the dossiers, noting their strengths, possible weaknesses, strategizing ways I could take them down. They are going to be trying their best to kill me, and my only option is to stop them. The permanent way. We stop only for food and toilet breaks, and by dawn I feel a tiny bit better.
“When will they get here?”
“Hard to say. We don’t know where they are travelling from, but at least a day, probably two.”
“And where? Where will they show up?”
“Well, with the Consillium’s rules, they are not going to take you out in public. So most likely at night, and somewhere private.”
“So, like here?” I gesture at the living room.
Dana looks up in alarm. “What if we went to the cabin? Lured them out there instead?”
Vincent nods. “Good idea. After we all get some sleep, I can take you through that extra training we talked about, okay, Tam? Later today, tonight?”
I nod. Anything to help prepare me.
Eight hours later, after a decent sleep, hot showers, and a big feed, Dana and I meet Vincent at The Public House. Closed for business and the blinds drawn, it’s a perfect place to train. Vincent and Dana are going to teach me every trick they know.
I just have to hope that it’s enough.
THE NEXT DAY I get up late, feeling groggy.
Even after exhausting myself physically, I couldn’t sleep. I had tossed and turned with dreams about the Enforcers, and I can’t shake off the emotional tension I woke up with.
I sit on Dana’s couch, still in my pajamas, guzzling coffee, but it’s just adding to the nervous pit in my stomach. I feel like a kid who knows they have done something wrong and is waiting for their parents to get home. The sense of an immense, all-powerful authority figure coming to get you is the same, and it’s overwhelming.
What have I gotten myself into?
My laptop is sitting on the coffee table. I stare at it for a few minutes, gnawing on my lip, then pull it toward me and start a message to Piper. I pour my heart out. I can’t tell her about being Lucan, but there is still a lot of stuff I can fess up to and apologize for. Ten minutes later, with a shaky hand, I press send.
“Dana?” I call out.
“Yeah?” She emerges from her bedroom. “Hey, is there coffee?”
“I drank it all,” I admit, looking at the bottom of my empty cup.
“Are you making some more?”
I don’t answer. Emotions are surging through me—an unpleasant internal water-blasting.
“Tamzin?”
“I’m sorry, Dana,” I blurt. “For getting you into this mess with me.”
Dana shakes her head and comes to sit next to me on the couch. “Don’t be sorry for what they’re doing to you. We are in this together, okay? You and me.”
I nod glumly.
“Do you want to go over the plan? Some of the techniques we taught you last night?”
“Okay,” I nod. “But, Dana, can we do that in a couple of hours? I need to, uh… I need to go see Mom and Dad. I haven’t seen them since….” And then my voice cracks. “Dana, I’m such an idiot. What have I done?” I start sobbing, all the pent-up emotion and fear leaking out of me. I can finally admit to myself that I’m terrified. Dana pulls me into a hug. “I need to tell them I’m sorry and that they shouldn’t worry about me.” My voice is muffled by her hair. “But what do I say? How do I explain it?” I pull my head back to search Dana’s face for answers that aren’t there.
I ENTER THE kitchen through the back door. Mom and Dad look up in surprise.
“Hi,” I say, my nervousness audible.
Two pairs of eyes give me the once-over and then flick to each other. Mom opens her mouth.
“Can you just listen for a second? I need to tell you…. I need you to know that I’m not on drugs, that I’m okay. Nikolai isn’t my pimp, and he isn’t leading me astray.” I hesitate slightly with this last statement. You could argue that joining the Consillium got me into all this, but I can’t put that all on Nikolai. “I have made some changes in my life recently, and I know it seems like I’m off the rails, but I honestly am not. But I’m sorry. I know you’ve been worried about me…” I trail off as I realize I can’t assure them that I’m going to be okay, because I don’t know that I am.
“Tamzin?” Dad looks so worried that I rush forward and wrap my arms around his neck. I look up at Mom who returns my gaze. She isn’t satisfied with this, I can tell, but at least she isn’t yelling at me.
“Mom?”
“Tamzin, I don’t know what to say, or think, anymore,” she says, sounding so tired that it makes guilt rocket around my body.
“It’s just…,” I start, but what do I say? How do I explain my secret life, especially now that it is crumbling down around me? With only a couple of exceptions, I have avoided reading Mom’s mind. Not just because it’s an invasion, but because I didn’t want to know what she was thinking. But now, feeling like time is running out, I have to.
Why does she have to make everything so difficult? I just want the best for her. I just want to prepare her for life. But maybe I have been too hard on her?
Tears well up in my eyes and I know that I’m about to totally lose it, so I have to go. I release Dad from my grip.
“I’m still at Dana’s, just so you know, and…” I try to gather some strength. “I love you,” I add, before slipping out the door. My heart is thudding. I said it. If this is the last time I ever see my parents, at least we didn’t fight.
And at least I told them I loved them.
Chapter 34
Emotionally spent, I let myself into Dana’s apartment. “You here? Dana?”
No answer, but a note on the fridge tells me she is with Vincent getting groceries for our trip to the cabin. I put the kettle on to make a pot of chamomile tea. I have just taken down one of Dana’s giant red tea mugs when I pick up on the scent.
Lucan, unfamiliar, and right outside the door.
The cup shatters on the tiling floor of the kitchen.
One of the Enforcers.
It’s too soon. I look around with desperation. What do I do?
Heavy footsteps retreat from outside Dana’s door but stop a few seconds later. I can hear his breathing, slow and measured, then footsteps, moving further away, but only for a few seconds. He stops, then again, silence. When this pattern repeats one more time, I know what he is doing. He is checking to see if Dana’s neighbors are home. He’s only got one more to go—there are four apartments on this level. I need to get out of here. Can I get out the door and to the stairwell fast enough? It seems unlikely. But there is another way out of this apartment—the balcony. I slip out, pulling the sliding door shut behind me. Checking there are no curious pedestrians on the street below first and thanking
the large tree that obscures the view from the busy main road, I swing my leg over the railing. The door to Dana’s apartment breaks open.
Enforcer # 1: Boris Dubrov, 44, originally from Estonia. A huge Lucan with terrifying strength. Became at the earliest recorded age of fourteen years old and the youngest Enforcer ever to be enlisted at age fifteen.
Andre the Giant on crack.
Vincent and Dana had agreed that when fighting him, my main objective is to avoid letting him get his hands around my throat, skull, or ribcage. His hands carried enough strength to literally crush me to death. I need to dodge his blows and get my own in where possible.
As I clamber down to street level, a head and massive shoulders appear over the edge of Dana’s balcony. With an agility that is surprising for a man so large, he leaps off the edge and lands directly in front of me.
Dammit, why didn’t I do that?
Before I can bolt, his huge hand closes around my throat. I can feel the power in his grip and it makes me tremble with fear. But he isn’t trying to kill me, not yet anyway. If he was, I would be dead. He drags me across the road. Spots appear in front of my eyes. In three quick strides, we’re at the entrance to the old church on the corner. He breaks the lock and the sanctity of this beautiful impassive gray building and closes the door behind us. It is dark and deserted. A nice, quiet place to die. He starts this process by flinging me across the room. I land on, and break, a couple of chairs sitting against the far wall. Damn, that hurt. I put my hand on my head—the source of an intense throb. Warm, sticky, red. There is a ringing in my ears, but it’s starting to feel like something more than just a concussion.
