by Jessica Roe
“Of course I have something big to offer. I'm close to creating the perfect being. You could—”
“I know all about that.” The Dealmaker dismissed his comment with a limp wave. “I'm not interested in your freaky creations. No, not at all. Besides, it wouldn't be nearly enough for the work that needs doing.”
“Then what would be enough?” Pablo asked desperately. “Please, you have to fix her. I need her.” Gable had never heard Pablo beg before. It sounded so wrong.
The Dealmaker appeared to think for a moment, but it seemed to Gable that his mind was already made up. He knew what he'd shown up to ask of Pablo. “I'll heal the girl,” he said, and Pablo heaved a sigh of relief. “In exchange for your invulnerability.”
Gable's heart plummeted. Pablo would never give that up.
Pablo flinched, clearly taken aback. “My...invulnerability...”
“Aw, come on,” the Dealmaker encouraged cheerfully. “You still won't age, but you will have the ability to die. Murder, electrocution, crashed car, flattened to death by a falling piano—the options are endless. What fun. But hey, how close to do ever get to accidentally dying these days anyway? No one can get near you to attempt murder, and you're not stupid enough to stick your finger in a toaster. Besides, what will a little invulnerability matter when you have your 'perfect being' formula, hm?”
Pablo looked tortured and conflicted. He glanced down at Gable's pale hand, still held in his, and brought it up to his mouth. When he raised his head again, his face was resolved. “Her life for my invulnerability?”
“I think that's fair.”
He nodded. “It's a deal. I'd do it for nobody but her.”
What? He couldn't be serious. He had to know that she'd never expect it of him...
The Dealmaker watched Pablo through surprised, but calculating, eyes. “You know, I heard you were a cold hearted monster. But that's not completely true, is it?”
“It's ninety nine percent true,” he answered, and Gable couldn't tell if he was being serious.
“Allrighty then, down to business!” The Dealmaker clicked his fingers and a scroll and dagger appeared in each hand. Gable didn't know if it had been done on purpose, but it looked just like that dagger, the one she'd been sent to kill Heidi with.“You know the ritual—read it, sign it with your blood,” he said, handing both items to Pablo.
“No one can know of this deal,” Pablo stated as he unravelled the scroll.
“Of course. To everyone else, you'll still be an Immortal. Not worth attacking because they'll never succeed.”
After scanning the words on the scroll and nodding in satisfaction, Pablo sliced into his palm with the dagger and squeezed his fist over the paper. A few fat droplets of blood splashed onto the page. By the time he had opened his fist, the wound had already healed—the last time that would ever happen.
The blood glowed on the scroll for a moment before disappearing. He handed the scroll and dagger back to the Dealmaker, who repeated the process before clicking his fingers again so that the the items vanished.
The deal was done.
Silently, he held his palm out to Pablo, who pressed against it with his own. And then the Dealmaker touched his other hand to Gable's forehead, and with Pablo holding Gable's hand, the circle was complete.
The Dealmaker opened his mouth to chant, and everything in Gable's world went white.
PABLO SAID NOTHING to her as the blood gushed out of the wound on his chest, trickling over the hands he held clutched underneath the dagger, but the utter betrayal in his eyes shattered Gable's heart into a million unfixable pieces.
“I've seen the future,” she said, and it sounded to her ears like an apology, a desperate plea for understanding. “And I can't let you destroy the world. I'm so sorry...I just can't.”
He choked, and a thick spurt of blood spilled over his lips. Losing strength and control, his legs failed him and he began to slide down the desk to the floor. Gable rushed forward to catch him, and they fell together.
“I'm sorry,” she whispered again, even as she took the box from his bloody, clenched fist. “I'm so sorry.” She rested his head in her lap and stroked his soft hair.
Pablo looked up at her with his dark eyes. Eyes that had watched the world grow and change over hundreds of years, eyes that had seen countless wars and battles and mayhem and death, eyes that had discovered beautiful things in places no one else had even thought to look. Eyes that had cried for her, for her pain, for her suffering. “I...loved you,” he gurgled. Bubbles of blood formed at the corners of his mouth.
She nodded and gently wiped them away with her thumb. “I know.”
And then Pablo, the man who was never supposed to have lived so long, died in her arms. As the light that had once shined so bright faded from his eyes, Gable finally let herself cry for the first time in eight years. She heaved great sobs as she rocked Pablo's dead body back and forth, and her tears dripped from her chin to mix with his blood.
She had killed him, and what was worse, she would do it all over again if she had to, to save the world.
Gable was a killer; exactly what he had wanted from her all along.
She doubted he'd have enjoyed the irony.
Somewhere unimportant in the back of her mind, she heard banging on the locked office door, but she ignored it. When the others came in, they'd take Pablo from her, and all she wanted to do was hold him until his warmth slowly seeped away.
Eventually the door smashed open, tearing apart the quiet, and Nicky stormed into the room, his gun drawn.
Of course it was Nicky, persistent as ever when it came to her. He must have thought she was in some kind of danger because when he saw her on the floor with Pablo, he looked seriously confused. He was wrong, though. She was the dangerous one.
He assessed the room silently and lowered the gun when he realized what must have happened.
The sounds of fighting had ceased through the broken door; the battle had finished. The Guardians had won.
“But...how?” he questioned, looking at Pablo's body.
Of course he didn't know that Pablo had lost his invulnerability, and she didn't think she had the words to tell him, not right that moment. That would all come later, she was sure.
Luckily, Nicky seemed to have finally decided to learn some tact, and he didn't question her again when she failed to answer. Instead, he dropped down to his knees next to her and reached out, so slowly, with one shaking hand. He rested it on her shoulder and squeezed.
And that was how they stayed while they waited for the rest of the world to catch up and find them.
HOURS PASSED, MORE than Nicky could even remember.
After the battle was over and the Outcasts and Guardians had taken control of Pablo's men and his hotel, the Guardian Elders had been called and they'd sent in the Officials to deal with the aftermath. Charles, Nicky and the others were so exhausted that they were more than happy to leave them to take charge.
The box had been taken and already the scientist was working on a way to destroy it before it could get in the wrong hands once again.
Leaving the Officials to do their job, everyone had made their way back to Yarmac and Bogely's. Fabian was outside, healing the injured Outcasts, and the Guardians had gathered inside of Terelle's tent.
Nicky had taken Gable up to the second floor—Terelle's bedroom—and tucked her in to the silken bed sheets. He'd never been up there before, but it was just as he'd expected—luxurious and old fashioned. The large bed took up most of the room, and a huge candelabra hung over it. A thick, red rug lay on the floor and every surface was littered with candles. On one wall a large window, covered by heavy, plum drapes, overlooked Yarmac & Bogely's.
As he sat down on the bed next to Gable, he could hear the low mumblings of conversation from the floor below.
Gable had curled up into a ball. She'd stopped crying, but the way she was just staring blankly at the wall was kind of worse. Her body looked so small and delicate a
mongst Terelle's huge pillows, and Nicky's heart ached as he watched her. He was desperate to comfort her, but he had no idea how. Not a single word had come from her lips since he'd found her with Pablo's body back in his office. In fact, the only noise he'd heard her make was the small cry of despair when the Guardian Officials had taken the body away from her.
He sighed and leaned forward to stroke stray strands of hair away from her face. He was tender and gentle, but she didn't even stir. “I'll be back soon,” he promised, kissing the side of her forehead. He wasn't sure she'd even heard him.
Nicky climbed down the spiral staircase and joined the others in their meeting. They stopped speaking for a moment while he found a seat on the sofa between Terelle and Walker. “Watcha talking 'bout?” he asked, like he didn't already know.
“I was just saying how confused I was,” said Queenie. She was sat in Terelle's usual chair, still beaten up but refusing any help from an already busy Fabian. A protective Zay sat at her feet, narrowing his eyes whenever anybody got too close. It would take a long time for him to get over her kidnapping. “I thought Pablo was an Immortal. So how did Gable...how did she...”
“Kill him,” Zay finished quietly for her. There was no judgement in his voice; they were all very aware of the fact that Gable had saved all their lives that night. Hell, screw that—Gable might have saved the whole damned world.
With a heavy, loaded sigh, Terelle explained everything she knew. She told them how Gable had called her from the hospital, about how she'd learned of Pablo's scheme, and of how he'd traded his invulnerability for Gable's life.
Nicky ran a hand through his hair, the shock penetrating right to his core. “Jesus. He really did care about her. I guess I just thought he didn't have those kind of human emotions any more.”
“Gable inspires it in people,” Terelle said softly, like she had first hand experience.
Nicky agreed with all his heart. People just couldn't help but feel things for Gable, even when they tried really, really hard not to. He'd been learning that lesson ever since he was sixteen years old.
“But she didn't have to be the one to...” Queenie swallowed hard. “She didn't have to be the one to kill him. I mean...she could've gotten someone else to do it, right? 'Cause they were so close...”
Terelle shook her head. “Gable knows what it's like to be asked to kill somebody, she would never do that. And I think she knew, deep down, that it had to be her. She had to be the one to do it.”
“What's going to happen with Pablo's business empire now?” Nicky asked. “I mean the legit one. A lot of people are going to notice that he's gone totally AWOL.”
“Actually,” Charles spoke up from another sofa where he'd been patching up a cut on Kain's cheek. “that's a surprisingly easy problem to fix. The Guardians have a Shapeshifter on staff—Tamitri's sister, in fact.”
“I thought Tamitri's tribe were the ones who controlled the Gate Guardians?”
“The males, yes. The females are always Shapeshifters.”
Huh. He'd been a Guardian a month and he was still learning. Hell, he'd probably never stop learning.
“She'll shift into Pablo and take his place for a short while to deal with his business clients, and then stage a fake heart attack from which he will not recover,” Charles continued. “His death will be announced publicly.”
“And so young, too,” Walker quipped, but no one laughed. It didn't seem like the time for jokes.
“He had no will and no heir, so his assets will be sold and the proceeds donated to charity.” Charles smiled grimly. “And the world's last thought of Pablo Nunez will be how altruistic he was, even in death. The irony is outstanding.”
“The Guardians won't keep any of the money?” Nicky asked. Surely it would be useful?
Charles shook his head. “It wouldn't be right.”
“None of this has been right.”
His point was conceded only with a nod.
“And what of the missing Outcasts?” Terelle wanted to know. “Do we know where they are being held?”
“I'm afraid we've hit a brick wall with that,” said Charles, frustration lacing every word. “Guardian Officials have already been through his office and home and found no information on the Outcasts, not a thing. We've come to believe that he must have had a partner in the scheme, one who dealt with all of the paperwork. Pablo has no files, no records, no messages. None of his men seem to know anything about it and they've been questioned thoroughly. They admit to forcibly escorting Outcasts to Pablo's office, but as to what happened to them after that, they're clueless. They have no answers. Nothing.”
“Did you bring in Zebb or Uang?” They all glanced up at the soft sound of Gable's voice. She was standing at the top of the spiral staircase, her trembling hands clinging to the wooden bannister.
“No,” answered Charles eventually, when they'd gotten over the shock of her sudden appearance. “They were nowhere to be found.”
“Then you need to get people on that.” She padded silently down the steps in her bare feet, her hand trailing listlessly along the railing. “If anybody knows anything about this whole deal, it's those guys. He trusted them more than anyone.” She paused at the bottom. “He trusted them more than me.”
There was an uncomfortable silence for a moment, until Charles cleared his throat. “Yes. We'll get the Trackers on it immediately.”
“What about his assistant, Chase?” Nicky noticed that Gable was avoiding saying Pablo's name out loud.
“No, we didn't manage to bring him in either. Do you believe he could have something to do with it?”
“I'm not sure.” She sighed. “He was his assistant, but he was also a good guy. I'm sure if he'd known anything about the Outcasts he woulda said something. Told someone. Told me, at least.”
Terelle tugged her down to sit between herself and Nicky and slipped a golden arm around her shoulders. It was a tight squeeze, but Nicky really didn't mind. He wanted so badly to take her hand, but he was pretty sure she wouldn't let him.
Later.
“I won't sit by on this,” Terelle announced. “Everyone here knows that I don't involve myself in things that are not my business, but many of those missing Outcasts were mine, they were from my tribe, and under my protection. I will find out where they are being held and I will bring them home.” She sounded all kinds of fierce, like a true leader.
“And we will help, of course,” Charles assured her. “Every step of the way. The Outcasts of this city are ours to guard just as much as the humans. I'm sure the Elders will grant us assistance.”
She nodded serenely. “Then we shall work together on this.”
“We will need you too, Gable,” Charles said, looking her right in the eyes and ignoring the way Walker scoffed. “You have knowledge and insight to things that none of us here do.”
“Of course I'm going to help,” she stated, like it should have been obvious. “This...this is on me too. And he took someone I care about.”
“Who?” Kain asked curiously, and then blushed when he realized he'd spoken out loud to the scary Gable.
“My best friend, Sacha. He took him because he's a Werewolf.”
Walker raised her eyebrows. “I thought Werewolves were extinct? Guardians haven't had a dealing with one in over seventy years.”
“No, there's still a couple left in the world.”
“And you're best friends with one? A vicious, savage beast? Why doesn't that surprise me?”
Nicky felt Gable twitch beside him and he wondered how hard it was for her to resist getting up and shoving her fist in Walker's face. He knew how difficult that struggle could be. “And it's judgemental, racist people with attitudes like yours that made them go into hiding in the first place,” she spat, and Nicky was actually kind of proud of her for holding back from the violence. “What happens to him one night a month is out of his control, but do you people care? Do you care that it was something he was born with, something he didn't ask for? No
.”
“It's what he does during that one night a month that—”
“What he does it chain himself up! He doesn't hurt anyone. He can't, when he's locked away like animal, so just...don't. Don't you dare judge him.”
It was stupid, because it wasn't like he'd thought she'd never had anyone important in her life since she'd left him eight years before, but the way Gable talked about Sacha, with so much passion and love, put Nicky right on edge. There was something about the way her eyes lit up, a certain sparkle that suggested that whatever they were, it was probably more than just best friends.
“We'll get Sacha back, Gable,” Terelle promised her with a squeeze.
“I know. I won't quit until I do,” she vowed, and Nicky's heart sank just a little bit.
The meeting wrapped up not long after that. There was nothing more they could do, not right at that moment. Plans would need to be made, a hunt would need to begin, but that could all wait, at least for the night. They were all so damned tired, beaten and bruised, inside and out, and not one of them felt like asking Fabian to heal them. Maybe because he'd already passed out from sheer exhaustion after healing all of the other wounded Outcasts, or maybe just because they needed their scars to remind them that they had survived, that they were alive and that they were together; the night's events really had happened, and Pablo really was dead and maybe, just maybe, things in New York City would start looking up.
But for one blissful night, there would be sleep. Lots and lots of sleep.
The Guardians began to trickle out, but Nicky hung back, wanting to talk to Gable. She was on the other side of the tent, discussing something quietly with Terelle.
“So what next?” he heard Terelle ask her.
“Next we get my damned Werewolf back,” Gable replied, no room for negotiation.
Terelle smiled at her. “Hell, yeah.” The casual words seemed foreign coming from her, but Gable didn't seem to notice. They were obviously better friends than he'd thought if Terelle was that comfortable around her. “Hey, you're welcome to stay here if you don't want to go back to that apartment,” she offered.
