by Ciara Graves
“Is this Shuval a mage?”
“No, at least I don’t think so.” I shrugged. “Truly, I’m playing catch up almost as much as you are. The only one I care about right now is Envy.”
“He’s the one who did this to you,” he murmured, running his finger down his cheek.
“And he was there the night my parents were killed. Not sure if he was directly involved or not, but from the sound of it, my life wasn’t the only one he ruined. I won’t sit around while he’s out there hurting innocents.”
It’d been so long since the night I was cursed. How many had he already killed? How many had we not been able to save because no one was looking for him? Because Damian and the others had been too devastated to keep up the fight?
“There’s every chance he’s going to be in Sector 1462 the night of Liam’s meeting. I need to be there,” I added
He raised my hand to his lips. The gesture was so sweet I found myself scooting closer, letting our shoulders touch.
“I said I was with you and I will be, but as much as I don’t want to agree with the others, you need more information. Running in there blind is suicide. That, and as far as I can tell, there is no Sector 1462.”
“Which is why we need to be looking for it,” I insisted. “We should be doing that right now.”
“What? You’re not enjoying your evening with me?” he teased with a wink.
“Never said that.”
“Tomorrow morning, first thing, we’ll check into finding the sector. I only ask that if we do find it, we don’t go rushing in, not until we have more information. Deal?”
The old me would’ve argued until I was blue in the face. “Deal,” I heard myself say.
Rafael smiled.
“Don’t get so excited. You don’t seem to remember what I’m like when I’m determined to get something done.”
He chuckled, and the sound warmed me all the way down to my toes.
“Right then, back to the movie.” He grabbed the remote.
Rafael held my hand throughout the rest of the film, and I leaned against his shoulder. After a while, his cheek found the top of my head. We fit so easily together.
At some point, I must’ve fallen asleep because the next thing I remembered was Rafael picking me up in his arms.
He carried me to my bed, lay me down, and tucked me in.
When he kissed my forehead, my eyes fluttered open, and I smiled up at him. He returned it and then went to sleep on the couch.
When I dreamt that night, it was all about Rafael and the fact that we had just done one of the things I never thought I would do.
I’d fallen asleep on the couch next to the guy I liked. There was no more lying to myself. No matter what happened when Rafael’s memories came back, I was going to be so screwed.
I was falling for him, and there was no more stopping it.
Chapter 11
Mercy
I stormed through the Underground toward Rufus’s place, with Rafael behind me.
We spent the past two days searching all the transports in Sector 21 for any sign of a way to get to this Sector 1462. There was nothing. Not that I was that surprised. We went to the library, searched the archives for any sign that one had existed at any point in history since the sectors were formed. Nothing. We even went so far as to check the city’s official records at City Hall. Nothing. No hint at all to say it had even been thought of. Ever. It was a damned dead end. The fact that we couldn’t find it pissed me off.
We wasted two whole days, but what was worse was when Bowen texted me this morning and told me to stop being angry at him and Rufus long enough to get to the Underground. When I’d asked why, he said he had more bad news as far as the artifacts were concerned.
As we climbed the steps to Rufus’s front door, it opened, and we hurried to get inside. Bowen closed and locked it as soon as we were in. His eyes narrowed, and he looked out the one tiny window toward the street.
“What are you doing?” I asked him.
“Making sure you weren’t followed.”
“Why would we be?”
“Because I was,” he muttered. “I told you poking around was going to stir up trouble.”
“Gobs?” I asked, looking out the window with him.
“No, worse.”
Hybrids, it had to be. “How many?”
“One… don’t see him now though.” He let the curtain fall back into place. “And get that look off your face, I have no idea if it was Envy or not. Though I’m fairly certain he wouldn’t let himself be reduced to spying.”
“What did you find out about the artifacts?”
“Half of this list is missing,” Rufus informed us as we joined him around the table. “Several were stolen from museums, others from personal collections. One or two were purchased at auctions recently.”
“And the rest? Can we get to them?” Rafael picked up the list, looking over the ones that had not gone missing yet.
“If you want to start breaking laws.”
“I’m a Fed though, right?”
“Yes, and?” Rufus asked, annoyed.
“And if we can track down the ones not found yet, can’t I find a way to ensure we get our hands on them first? Put extra protection around them?”
“There’s fifty, total. You want to track down and put into protective custody twenty-five artifacts? What’s your reasoning going to be? Because you sure as hell can’t tell your boss what we’re up to or all our asses will be thrown in prison.”
Rafael tapped his fingers on the table. “How much does my boss trust me?”
“As far as I can tell a lot. Why?” I asked.
“I could simply tell him I have good reason to and when the time’s right, I can tell him.”
“Yeah, not sure it would work,” I mused, glancing over the list. “A lot of these items probably aren’t even in the states. It could take months to track them all down. Maybe, years. Have you done a search on all of them yet?”
Bowen nodded. “Some aren’t too far, but others are in private collections halfway across the world. They’re not going to turn them over to our Feds without a damned good reason.”
“Then we give them one.”
“Can’t. Like I said,” Rufus argued. “I’m a wanted criminal who broke out of jail. Bowen is a prince who does not want to be found. And Mercy is dragonborn. I know you forgot shit, but I’m sure you remember what we do to dragonborn in this country. You want her disappearing forever?”
“No,” Rafael said quickly. “Would it help if we can at least protect a few?”
“It would,” Rufus agreed.
“Then let me at least try with the few that are not too far away. Get them hidden away so this Shuval can’t get her hands on them.”
Our plan was risky enough before. Now, we weren’t playing with fire. We were about ready to douse ourselves with gasoline and light a match. One wrong move and everything we were working toward would go up with us. There’d be no one left to pick up where we left off. I picked up the map, picturing the glowing lines on it in my mind. There were hundreds of locations Shuval could be carrying out these rituals. It would be impossible to place someone at each one in order to keep an eye on it. And for how long? We had no way of knowing which ones she’d already been to either, and the more I looked at the map and the pages for the Blood Moon, the tree imagery, the more I realized what exactly would be waiting for us at Sector 1462. It was the only solution that made sense.
“You want to share?” Rufus asked me roughly. “Mercy?”
“The tree,” I said quietly, picking up the paper. “You think it actually exists?”
“Guess it’s possible. Not that it matters.”
“Unless this is Sector 1462. It’s a real place and this tree, it isn’t just showing the Blood Moon. It’s showing the locations for the rituals. What kind of tree is this?”
“A dead one and you are grasping at straws.” Bowen sounded tired of lecturing me. “There is no Sec
tor 1462. For all, we know it’s a code of some kind and nothing more. The tree is only a picture so drop it.”
“We are three days away from Liam’s meeting,” I reminded them. “Three days.”
“You said it yourself, you found nothing to lead us to that location.” Bowen took the pages from me and set them back on the table. “If Rafael wants to start finding artifacts then that’s what we need to focus on. Not going off on some wild goose chase that’s going to waste time and lead us nowhere.”
“Envy could be going there to perform this ritual. He could be preparing to kill who knows how many people.”
“You have no proof of that at all.”
“So what? You’re really going to let innocents die because we have no solid proof?”
“And what if you’re wrong and we walk right into a trap?” Bowen snapped. “Do you even hear yourself? You’re so thirsty for vengeance you’ve forgotten to use your head! We might be wrong, but you could be, too. We are not going to risk our lives on nothing more than a hunch.”
I shook my head, not believing my ears. “You were the one who couldn’t believe I’d given up on tracking down the bastard who hurt me.”
He blanched. “It’s different now.”
“Is it?”
“Mercy,” Rafael chimed in, “as much as I hate to agree with them, they’re right. We have no way to find this sector. The smart thing to do would be to focus on what we can do, and that’s finding the remaining artifacts and keeping them safe.”
Grinding my teeth, I glared at each of them in turn. Why was it no one ever believed me? I stormed away from the table and went to glare out the front window. Their voices carried on quietly behind me, but I was too mad to hear what they were saying.
Rafael appeared at my side. He reached out for me, but I pulled back, not looking his way.
“Mercy,” he started, but I turned my back to him completely.
“I get it, the plan makes sense. I suggest you start searching for those artifacts.”
“We need to talk about this.”
“Yeah, sure. We’ll do that later. Go help them. I’m fine.”
“You’re still a terrible liar,” he said softly. His hand squeezed my shoulder anyway, and then he walked away.
A chill breath struck my cheek, and I didn’t have to turn to know Todd was there.
“You’re not giving up, are you?”
I gave him the subtlest shake of my head.
He sighed in relief.
That tree meant something. All of it was connected, I just knew it. If they didn’t want to believe me, that was fine, but I was not giving up that easily. I stayed at my post by the window, waiting for my chance. It took a good hour, but the three of them eventually moved away from the table, discussing where the artifacts would be and helping Rafael come up with a plausible reason why they would need to be removed from their current locations and placed in federal custody.
I sidled closer to the table, moving as quietly as I could. Once there, I snatched the datebook and the first page from the table and shoved them into my coat.
None of them noticed.
I returned to the window.
I waited around for another hour then decided it was time for me to go.
“I’m heading out,” I said and made for the door. “Keep me posted on what you find.”
“Want me to come with you?” Rafael asked.
Bowen and Rufus looked at me suspiciously.
“No, I can make it back on my own just fine.”
“Then I’ll see you later,” he said slowly.
“Not tonight,” I said and hated myself instantly for the hurt that crept into his eyes. “You might be staying here anyway. Sounds like this is going to take a while.”
“If that’s what you want,” he said, “just text me when you change your, mind.”
“I will.” If I did. Which I wouldn’t.
“Mercy,” Bowen said as I opened the door. “Watch your back on your way out.”
“Don’t I always,” I replied then left.
Todd walked along beside me as I reached into my pocket, feeling the page and the datebook.
“You ready for some work of our own?” He asked.
“If it gets us to that asshole, yeah, I’m ready.”
Chapter 12
Rafael
The darkness remained around me for a long time. I saw nothing. Heard nothing. I cursed my brother for throwing me into what had to be a pit of some kind in my mind. There was no door, no way out I could see. I walked on and on and on, for how long I had no freaking idea. I growled my anger, but it came right back to me. The angrier I became, the louder it slammed into my ears until I was clutching my head.
The memory of my parents’ dying bothered me so damned much. As I wandered through the nothingness alone, I replayed it over and over, searching for the moment it all changed. It was true that day had been the first of a set of tragic memories I could never forget, but why did I have to face it? There was nothing gained by seeing them killed. So why see it? The darkness around me lightened slightly. I strained, searching for a sign of a new door to go through. The next memory should’ve been here, unless Antonio screwed it up for me.
“Where are you?” I shouted, wincing when my words sounded, like I’d yelled them. “Antonio. Answer me.”
There was no reply. I walked on, my surroundings becoming more illuminated with every step. A second set of footsteps joined mine.
I stopped short, whipping around. Antonio wasn’t there. I was alone, but as soon as I turned back around and continued walking, the sound picked up again. I slowed, and mid-step pivoted, but it wasn’t my brother I saw standing behind me.
“What?”
There was another version of me, eyes dark and face haggard, but he was younger than me by a few years. This version of me hadn’t escaped the slums yet.
“When did I become so blind?” the new me asked. “Or stupid?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I uttered annoyed.
“You, following your brother around. You think he has good intentions?” He raised his hands as he spoke, motioning around us. “We’re inside your head, remember? Don’t let him take control.”
“I’m doing this to save him,” I argued.
“You should be doing it to save yourself. That part of him doesn’t care about you. Our brother is dead. Everything we loved about him is dead. Pay attention to your surroundings, or this is not going to turn out the way you imagined.” He nodded past me, and I spun around. “The door.”
“I already walked through that one.”
“You did, and I snagged you to warn you. Antonio is tricking you. You came here to face the, guilt so face it,” the other me urged, grabbing hold of my shoulders hard enough to hurt. “Remember.”
“I am remembering.”
“No. You’re witnessing. There’s a difference.”
The pressure lifted from my shoulders and then he was gone.
The iron door Antonio shoved me through was a few yards away, waiting for me to pass through it. Remember it, don’t witness it. What did that even mean? Every emotion I felt the day of my parents’ deaths, I’d remembered all over again. Every pang of sadness and guilt struck me as if I was reliving the moment.
And yet there was an inkling that what I saw did not match what transpired that day.
“Alright, brother,” I muttered as I reached the door and rested my hands on it. “Time to get this journey back on track. Saving myself. Not you.” It went against every instinct I had as a big brother, but the other me was right. The caring Antonio everyone loved was dead. All that remained in this one was hatred and anger. I pushed on the door and walked through as it opened.
Bright sunlight blinded me, and I cursed, throwing my hand up to shield my eyes.
“About time,” Antonio snapped, appearing at my side. “Where did you go?”
“Nowhere,” I said, since it wasn’t technically a lie. “Where are we
now?”
“Ah, we are at our next stop on this lovely journey of painful memories,” he commented, acting like some damned tour bus driver. “If you look to your right, you’ll see the home of your once friend, Matthew. Ah, and who is this I see coming down the road? Why that’d be you.”
“Matthew,” I whispered, watching memory-me knock on the front door. I was older now, seventeen at this point. It was opened for me, and I disappeared inside. Antonio snapped his fingers, and then we were inside the home, too. It was empty except for memory-me and one other. A demon I had not seen in years. He drew back the rug on the floor revealing a hidden passage.
Slowly this day came back to me, and I hesitated to go down there.
“Remember don’t witness,” I whispered and sensed a strange tingling in my limbs. It grew, and a tugging started in my gut.
Antonio took hold of me and dragged me down the stairs into a room filled with demons. “Watch,” he instructed.
The memory shimmered around the edges, and a weird buzzing filled my ears as the scene turned fuzzy. I swiped at my eyes, and it was back to normal. Matthew stood at the head of a long table, maps and notes spread out around it. Haphazardly-made weapons rested at the far end, anything we’d be able to use for the fight to come. All real weapons were locked away in the armory the mages’ kept a close eye on. This was the best we’d been able to do.
“Ah, Rafael,” Matthew announced.
I froze, but then saw the memory-me hurrying to reach his side. He took my hand and shook it. “I worried you weren’t going to make it.”
“So was I. They’ve upped the patrols.”
“Do they know?” another demon asked worriedly.
“They can’t,” said one closer to us. “No one outside this room knows what we’re up to and none of us are traitors.”
I glanced behind me to the stairs leading to the main floor, like I expected someone to come running down it, but that never occurred. Instead, memory-me stiffened and whispered something to Matthew about forgetting to grab the new weapons I’d made for the fight. Why did this feel so wrong?
