Bone Driven

by Hailey Edwards

  He glanced up, his expression unfathomable. “She has a file on you.”

  “What?” I snatched it out of his hand and skimmed it front to back. “Phew. You had me worried there for a minute. This is nothing malicious. Just newspaper clippings.”

  His expression indicated he begged to disagree. “It’s an invasion of your privacy.”

  “Says the guy who outfitted me with a phone for the sole purpose of stalking my every move.” I handed it back to him. “Privacy is an illusion, and it’s getting thinner and thinner these days.”

  “That was not my only reason.” He returned the incriminating papers where they belonged. “I gave you a direct line to me. Only three other people on this terrene can say that.”

  “Keep spoiling me, and I’m going to feel obligated to make you a friendship bracelet.”

  Wu sighed, a sound I was coming to enjoy provoking, and crossed to me. “She must have kept the prints on her person. We’ll check her vehicle next. The digital copies can be wiped as soon as we have the hardcopies in hand.”

  We cleaned up after ourselves and left the way we came. Wu caught me studying the disrupter thingy and walked me through disengaging it. Ready to be on his way, he didn’t notice when I pocketed the nifty device. Leaving him in my dust, I sprinted to the SUV, climbed in, and breathed a sigh of relief that we had made it in and out without getting caught. I was still luxuriating in our success when he joined me.

  “When do we search her car?” I strapped in, ready to Flintstones this SUV out of the driveway and back into nice, anonymous traffic. “Please tell me we’re not going to stakeout her street until she comes home.”

  “All right, I won’t tell you.” He backed out, found another empty driveway, and parked there. “We need to wrap this up tonight. We’ll take shifts. I’ll go first.”

  Grateful I hadn’t had coffee for hours, I reclined the seat. “Wake me when it’s go time.”

  “You would trust me to watch over you?” A mixture of surprise and pleasure and some undefinable something that fled too fast for me to identify splashed across his features. “You would leave yourself defenseless against me?”

  “What a very charun thing to say. I don’t trust you too far, but I’m pretty sure you’re not going to murder me in my sleep.” Leave it to him to twist a simple nap into an exercise in trust he hadn’t yet earned. For one thing, murder would stain his fancy shirt. For another, he had made the mistake of letting me know my value. He wouldn’t harm a hair on my head. Not unless I stepped out of line. “Okay, how about this? A member of my coterie is out there right now, watching us. Lift a finger against me, and they’ll break it off and beat you to death with it. Does that make you feel better?”

  “Actually, yes.” Proof I retained some sense of self-preservation coaxed a smile from him. “That explains why I smelled fur.”

  “Thom’s on duty tonight?” I yawned so hard my eyes watered. “He’s bitey. I wouldn’t recommend pissing him off if I were you.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he murmured. “Sleep well.”

  Putting another skill Rixton had taught me to good use, the ability to sleep anywhere and at any time, I linked my hands at my navel and dozed.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  A hard jostle knocked me awake, and I blinked up at a tan ceiling in confusion. The tingling awareness I wasn’t alone had me cranking my head to the left, and I yelped when I spotted Wu behind the wheel.

  He didn’t so much as flinch. “Bad dream?”

  “What time is it?” I blinked until the blurry numbers on the clock made sense. “I was out for five hours? Why didn’t you wake me?” I pulled the lever on the seat and sat upright. “What about Summers?”

  “Do these look familiar?” He reached between the seats and produced a file with the single set of prints Rixton had given her along with the glossy originals. “When we wipe her this time, it should fix the problem.” He angled his head toward me. “Right?”

  “Wrong.” I rubbed my face. “Rixton has a few more copies. I’ll disappear those tomorrow.”

  His fingers wrapped the gearshift until his knuckles whitened. “Do you think he would have distributed them yet?”

  “Usually he’s on the ball, but we’re juggling a hellacious caseload. He’s working long hours, and he has a newborn at home.” Rixton didn’t believe in doing things half-assed, so he would wait until his head cleared before making his case about the possible connection between all three fires. “There’s a better than good chance he’ll wait until the shift meeting to make his move.”

  The tension in his fingers lessened. “Did you give anyone else prints?”

  “I emailed copies to Miller and Santiago, but their computers are vaults.” You didn’t do the type of work they did without making sure all the doors you kicked down in pursuit of information wouldn’t fly open on your own computer. “You don’t have to worry about them. I promise if I need to reference the photos, I’ll do it online in a secure environment. I won’t make more prints. Deal?”

  “Let’s deal with the other sets first. Then we’ll discuss the need for you to possess your own.”

  A small victory, but I would take it. “Are we done then?”

  “For tonight, yes.” Headlights washed over his face, and his eyes gleamed golden as twin suns. The otherworldly sheen made me intensely curious what he hid beneath his suit. “Other loose ends might need tying off before all is said and done.”

  Maybe Wu had been a sailor in a previous life. He sure was a knot enthusiast.

  “I still can’t believe you flew to New York.” I tried not to laugh but failed. “Santiago is going to be full of himself for weeks after this.”

  A resigned sigh escaped Wu. “I don’t suppose I could persuade you not to mention the trip to him.”

  “Nope.” Dirt on Wu was worth too much to squander. “He and I are like oil and water most days. Ratting you out will earn me some much-needed bonus points with him.”

  “What will you tell your partner about the photos when he notices they’re missing?”

  “I’ll lie to him.” The acid taste of regret burned up my throat. “I don’t want him near any of this. He’s got a wife and a kid and a whole, normal life ahead of him. He’s already in this up to his neck, and he has no clue. I’m not letting him dig himself any deeper.”

  “You’re doing the right thing,” he assured me as he turned up my driveway. “Humans are fragile, and they break easily.”

  “What about Kapoor?” I found myself asking. “He’s human. The taskforce must have some human oversight.”

  “Kapoor is a demi, but he chooses to identify as human.” Wu sounded mystified by that mindset, humanity as alien to him as my heritage was to me. “They are an unavoidable staple in higher management. This is their terrene, after all.” I couldn’t tell if he was joking, and he moved on before I could ask. “The bulk of our taskforce are charun, though there are a few demi among them.”

  “Demi,” I clarified, “as in he’s half charun.”

  “Yes.” Wu parked his SUV, and we sat there staring at my house. “He didn’t know until his mother was captured by the NSB and quarantined. He was eighteen, a senior in high school. The mandatory testing required of all mixed blood children exposed his heritage.”

  I hazarded a guess. “He joined up to right the wrongs against his mother?”

  “I’ve already told you not all fathers are as worthy of a child’s trust as yours. The same can be said for mothers.” His fingers tightened on the gearshift until his knuckles punched against his skin. “He hated her for a long time, for making him what he is, but mostly for not telling him what he was.” A sharp inhale moved through his chest, and he released his grip. “Kapoor joined to play exterminator. He was a smart kid, driven, and we needed people like him. He lasted a decade before he burned out on all the death he was dealing.”

  I swallowed hard. “How nervous should I be that the NSB sent an exterminator after me?”

&nb
sp; “He wasn’t there for you, not in that way.” Wu didn’t bother assuring me Kapoor wouldn’t have offed me if I hadn’t agreed to cooperate. “He’s been reclassified to what the taskforce calls a janitor. All cases and public disturbances with suspected charun involvement land on his desk.”

  “That explains why he was cleaning up after us.” And why his reach exceeded his grasp on occasion.

  “White Horse has been a special project for him,” Wu admitted. “Kapoor expressed an interest in you early on, no doubt expecting us to put you down. When no kill order was issued, his fascination shifted onto your coterie.” A growl revved up my throat that earned me an interested look from Wu. “He’s loyal to us. He won’t harm your people so long as you keep them in line.”

  Gravel churned in my voice when I asked, “How do I know where the line starts and where it ends?”

  “The academy will cover the basics, and I’ll tutor you on the laws involving coterie creation and sustainment.”

  “Coteries are a thing outside the cadre? Other charun form them too?” I reflected on how it had been explained to me. “Miller told me each coterie is led by a high charun, that the groups vary in size and species, but the only true limit is how far their master’s control extends. I assumed that meant only cadre.”

  “We’ve covered enough for one night.” He shut me down fast. “Call when you’ve finished with Rixton.”

  “All right.” I slid out and stretched, the elastic fabric moving with me, and I plucked at my top. “Hey, do you want these clothes back or…?”

  “Keep the outfit.” He cast me a knowing look. “You’ll need it again.”

  Well, wasn’t that a comforting thought. “Night.”

  “Goodnight.”

  A deep ache in my bones for home had me mounting the stairs after Wu left instead of heading back to the sewing room at the Trudeaus’ for the night. With that in mind, I texted Uncle Harold to let him know where he could find me. I pulled up short when the front door opened under my hand. I was paranoid about locking it, always had been, since folks had a nasty habit of inviting themselves into our house.

  On reflex, my right hand brushed my hip but found nothing. I hadn’t gone to see Summers armed. There had been no point with Wu and a member of my coterie on the fringes acting as backup. And it’s not like I would have shot her for having the nerve to bust me for breaking into her home.

  Since Wu had been so helpful as to out my babysitter, I sent Thom a text then had to wonder if he would receive it if he was on all fours as Wu had implied. Still, I meant to back out and wait on him, I really did, but the moonlight chose that moment to glint off a puddle on the floorboards, and all my good intentions evaporated.

  Shoving the door open wider illuminated boot prints tracked through the living room headed in the direction of the kitchen. I crept inside, avoiding squeaky planks, and let myself into the gun safe masquerading as our hall closet. I reached in, retrieved my shotgun plastered in screamo band stickers, and loaded her as quick as a heartbeat. With the weapon braced against my shoulder, I started clearing rooms, saving the kitchen, where the tracks vanished beneath the sheeting, for last.

  Pulse thumping in my ears, I stepped through the slit in the plastic. There was so much blood… and then I spotted the source. I rushed over to the body and hit my knees, the gun smacking the floor under my hand. “Miller?”

  Curled on his side, he rested his head on an outstretched arm. Blood pooled under him, pouring from a ragged wound above his hip. His breaths came short and hard, and he flinched when I touched him, but he didn’t answer.

  “It’s okay.” I smoothed the damp hair from his forehead. “Thom’s on the way. He’ll know what to do. Just hang on until he gets here, okay?”

  Miller gave no sign of hearing me over the incessant chattering of his teeth.

  Footsteps echoed beyond the plastic, and I nestled the butt of the gun against my shoulder. “Show yourself.”

  “It’s only me,” Thom said, parting the folds and entering the space with his hands held up where I could see them. “What happened?”

  “No idea.” I lowered my weapon and shook my head. “I found him like this.”

  “He’s lost a lot of blood.” Thom knelt beside Miller and checked his vitals. “I’ll do what I can to stabilize him, but we’re going to need to transfuse him. See if you can reach Cole.”

  I pinged Cole, got no response, and cued up Santiago.

  “You better be dying,” Santiago grumbled, “and not interrupting me for a home address you could Google.”

  “I’m not dying,” I rushed, “but Miller might be. We need help.”

  “Tell him to bring the full medical kit,” Thom instructed, his eyes flipping up to mine, “and tell him to come ready to bleed.”

  “I heard him.” Santiago dropped the attitude. “I’ll be there in fifteen.”

  “Where’s Cole?” The question slipped out before I checked the urge and winced in anticipation of punishment for my lapse.

  Santiago didn’t disappoint. “Not here.”

  He hung up, and I pocketed the cell. “What can I do?”

  “Bring all the towels you’ve got. A pillow and a quilt aren’t bad ideas.” He brought Miller’s wrist to his mouth and bit down until fresh blood painted his lips. “That will ease his pain.” He palmed one of Miller’s curved shoulders and pushed it straight. “Can you help me turn him onto the opposite side?”

  “Sure.” I hooked my fingers through Miller’s belt loops, and together we flipped him onto his back. “Just one more,” I told him, though he was past hearing. “Here goes nothing.”

  Thom and I wrestled him so that his injury faced the ceiling, and then we got busy peeling back the fabric. The material was frayed and caked with blood. I sacrificed a pair of poultry shears from a nearby cabinet to cut the shirt free of him. The gaping bite mark wept, the ribbons of skin tattered.

  “Don’t get sick over him.” Thom nudged me away. “Get back if you can’t stomach this.”

  Forcing my lids closed, I drew in gulps of oxygen through my mouth, its metallic taste registering on my tongue with cold familiarity as I spiraled inward. The arctic well of rationality deep in my core roused, its frigid calm spreading ice over my emotions in a sheet that trapped them from surfacing.

  “Towels, pillow, quilt,” I said smoothly, the bite of frost in my mouth. “I’ll be right back.”

  Thom whipped his head toward me, and his administrations faltered. “Luce?”

  “I won’t be but a minute.” Knees that had failed to support me when I first spotted Miller had no trouble locking now. “Call out if you think of anything else.”

  Thom’s hesitation lasted until I reached the sheeting, and he asked, “What about your gun?”

  “I don’t need it.” I heard myself talking, but I was divorced from the words coming out of my mouth. I was still caged in human flesh and had no charun powers, so I had no idea what the cold place expected me to do if whoever had taken down Miller came back for seconds, but the beauty of embracing this headspace was its efficiency, the ability to function without panic over seeing a friend bleeding out on the kitchen floor. I reached the front door as it flung open under Cole’s hand. “Thom’s in the kitchen.”

  His charge halted midway, his feet and brain pulling him in two different directions as he stared at me.

  “Miller’s bleeding out,” I told him, and I might as well have been reporting on the weather. “Santiago’s on his way with supplies.”

  With visible effort, Cole wrenched himself away from me and stormed off in their direction.

  I gathered the supplies Thom had requested, adding a few extras, and then I hit the stairs. I met up with Santiago, who carried a black duffle large enough to double as a body bag on his shoulder, and held the plastic aside so he could get to Thom. Following him in, I circled around Miller then knelt on Thom’s left side across from Cole, who sat with his back to the cabinets.

  Miller’s head was
deadweight when I lifted it and slid the pillow in to support his neck. I worked in tandem with Thom, blotting the wound clean as he stitched it closed. Shock blasted through me when he sniffed the wound before licking the length of it clean, but there was too much insulation between me and what was happening for the disorientation to last.

  When the time came for him to pierce Cole’s thick vein, I was running on autopilot again. Needles, which usually made me squirm, didn’t bother me all that much at the moment, even when Thom started the IV on Miller. A bag of saline came next, and Cole hooked that onto a cabinet drawer pull. While Thom checked the line for patency then moved on to tweaking the clamps and hooking up tubes, I existed in the white noise of my own head.

  The process lasted two hours during which no one spoke or moved except for Thom, who vacillated between his two patients.