by Ann Aguirre
“How fascinating,” he said.
“Would it be impolite to ask why you wanted to meet? There’s someone waiting for me.”
“Yes, I can feel his birds circling. But they can’t report back on what happens in the car, for it is my domain.” That statement felt like both a promise of privacy and a subtle threat.
Since I was making an excuse, surprised flared like a match in complete darkness. Sometimes I forgot how seriously the Harbinger took his promise to protect me, though I wondered if that encompassed all of his interest. He seemed far too vigilant for someone merely honoring a deal.
“That’s good, I guess.” If he asked, I’d tell him what happened later.
“Since you’ve taken it upon yourself to impede my enemy’s progress, I propose an alliance of sorts. I can extend my protection and make Wedderburn think you’re one of my agents. That should grant you the opportunity to do some damage. In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me if you managed to complete your offensive against him.”
“What makes you think I have an endgame?”
“Intuition,” he said, smiling.
The car slid smoothly across a bridge, taking us away from downtown. The streets widened, and the houses got a little bigger. If we continued north, they would expand into subdivisions instead of neighborhoods, and beyond that lay a smattering of McMansions, like the one the Jake Overman lived in. Cross Point wasn’t a huge city, but it had all the problems and perks of a larger one like Pittsburgh, only in miniature.
“Well, it’s true I’m trying to accomplish something, but to be honest, foiling Wedderburn’s plans is incidental. If that’s fine with you, I could agree to an alliance.” More protection sounded good, as long as it didn’t come with restrictions.
“He is not the forgiving sort. Once you cross him, the encounter can end only in one of two ways.”
“You think he’ll wipe me out,” I guessed. “But you’re hoping I’ll do some more damage before he gets me.”
Dwyer shrugged. “Does that seem heartless? But my offer will buy you time, something you mortals always find to be in short supply. Your intervention has ruined multiple plans for Wedderburn, and I would like him to judge me more formidable and unpredictable than he previously estimated.”
“You want me in your deck as the wild card.”
“That is an excellent summation.”
“What are you offering exactly?”
“Primarily, a bodyguard. But I’ll also let it be known that you’re doing my work. That will drive Wedderburn mad.”
“I don’t want someone obtrusively following me around,” I objected.
“Selena knows her business. You won’t even know she’s around unless you’re about to be jumped by the winter king’s lackeys.”
Pondering, I tried to see any potential drawbacks, but off the top of my head, I found none. But just to be sure … “What are my obligations in this arrangement?”
“Just keep harrying Wedderburn. Keep him frustrated.”
“Because while he’s focused on me, you can make moves that he won’t notice, or come up with methods to counter.”
Dwyer smiled. “Now I see it.”
“What?”
“The reason for the Harbinger’s interest. You’re a clever creature, aren’t you?”
It didn’t seem right to agree, so I took that as a rhetorical question. “My mission is to save someone he’s determined to acquire as an asset.”
“Yes, I’ve noticed. Since I intended to deploy agents to ensure that asset’s destruction, it was a most entertaining development. Your advent had the same effect as my original plan, only you caused Wedderburn considerably more chagrin.”
“Because he didn’t know who I was working for or why I appeared?”
“Precisely.”
“If I only need to keep doing what I’m doing and act like it’s on your orders, that seems like a fair deal,” I said.
“So we have an agreement?”
“Absolutely.”
His answering smile nearly blinded me. “Excellent. I’ll let Selena know at once. She’ll find this most promising.”
“Excuse me?”
“She’s been waiting for an excuse to tangle with the hag in Wedderburn’s employ. With Buzzkill out of commission, he’ll send her after you at some point.”
I remembered the nightmare creatures with the metal claws and shivered. “She has a strange idea of fun.”
“So I’ve said more than once.” Dwyer seemed pleased to have his opinions validated even by someone like me. “Would you like to meet her? If only to avoid misunderstandings.”
“I have time.”
He rapped on the partition between the seats and leaned forward to give instructions to the driver. The car changed course and delivered us to an upscale coffeehouse in the suburbs. With a big, mostly empty parking lot, it was an odd place for a supernatural meeting. We went inside, and Minion A got us both cappuccinos without asking what we wanted. Dwyer chose a seat by the window in a cluster of overstuffed armchairs, and I noticed how everyone in the café perked up, like flowers facing the sun. Since he had his aura dialed down to a minimum, I could only imagine how people would react if he came at full charge. The two guards sat down at a neighboring table. Eventually the patrons went back to their phones, laptops, and quiet conversations, leaving me in awkward silence with Dwyer.
Twenty minutes after we arrived, a young woman dressed all in black stormed into the place. She rocked a unique look at the intersection of Goth and punk, lots of metal studs, a few spikes for good measure. Her lips were red as blood, and she had on an amount of eyeliner usually preferred by tween girls. Her hair stood in green-streaked peaks, an impressive amount of hair product there. Marching over, she hauled a straight-back chair toward us, spun it around backward and straddled it, aiming an angry look at both Dwyer and me.
Right, she looks completely enamored with the idea of guarding me.
“What’s so important that I had to drop everything and heel like a dog?” she demanded.
“I told you about her already,” he said. “I thought you’d want to meet the thorn in Wedderburn’s side.”
“This human offed Buzzkill?” Her tone said bullshit.
“I had help.” There was no way I’d admit that the Harbinger had taken control of my body and used my epic sword.
Though to be fair, I ended him on my own in the other timeline.
Her entire demeanor changed, becoming avid. She folded her hands on top of the chair and leaned forward. “What happened?”
“When he died, you mean?” This was decidedly a weird avenue of inquiry, unless she was testing me. If so … “He faded into dark smoke. In my experience, the immortal’s nature determines the light show. If they’re mostly good, then it’s golden sparks. Evil? Black smoky swirls, all the way.”
Two pairs of shocked eyes locked on me. Selena spoke for both of them. “You’ve killed immortals other than Buzzkill?”
Damn. Maybe I said too much.
“I don’t remember asking you this many questions,” I said. “The nature of a wild card is that you don’t understand it fully.”
Please let that be enough. I can’t piss Dwyer off too.
To my relief, the sun god laughed. “Well said. I’ll take your knowledge as a reminder to be wary.”
“Good plan,” Selena muttered, seeming unconvinced. But she set aside whatever misgivings she had to get down to business. “I’m not sure if you recognize me. Probably not, I suspect. Mighty huntress, goddess of the moon? Contrary to popular opinion, I’m not much for mysteries, and I’m definitely not into virgins. People seem to think this idiot is my brother. Sometimes I agree. Let’s see … what else…”
Bemused, I listened to her rattle off a list of true and false. Finally, she concluded with, “But the huntress thing is spot on. I miss the Colosseum.”
“You can see why I put her in charge of your protection,” Dwyer put in.
“The picture
is forming.”
“I’ll have your back when shit gets real.” Selena seemed eager for that to happen. “When Wedderburn finds out you ended his favorite clown, his head will explode.”
“That would solve a lot of problems for me,” I mumbled.
She grinned. “Figuratively. I thought you’d understand.”
“I’m glad to see the two of you getting along. You’ll need that goodwill until things are resolved, one way or another.”
I half thought Dwyer would bail right then, but to my surprise, he tipped his head at one of the guards, who got Selena mineral water and, inexplicably, a cup of olives. Neither of them seemed in any hurry to leave, and I sipped my cappuccino, waiting for the other shoe to drop. I noticed the guards were attentive, watching the door with a focus I found faintly unnerving.
“Are we expecting trouble?” I asked, low.
“Hoping is a better word,” Selena answered.
Half an hour later, the door blew open on a wintry breeze, and an elderly woman stepped in. Something about her seemed off, though I couldn’t put my finger on it. When she bared yellow teeth in our direction, I realized this must be the human camouflage for Wedderburn’s hag. Dwyer raised his nearly empty cup with a smirk of knowing amusement, while Selena just stared, likely cataloging the creature’s strengths and weaknesses.
Clad in a yellow hat and muffler, the hag stepped closer. She smelled of copper and seaweed, a combination that caused a stir in the other customers. “This is an interesting coffee klatch. I’ll have an update for the cold one after all.”
“Make sure you mention how I’m going to tear your throat out with my bare hands,” Selena said softly.
“Enemies better than you have tried,” the hag snarled back.
“Let’s keep it civilized,” Dwyer said. “We have an audience after all. Feel free to run along back to your master. You’ve learned what you came to uncover.”
“Not quite. I have a question for you first.”
“Go ahead,” the sun king allowed.
“How did you entice the clown away? What prize did you offer?”
Choking on a laugh, I covered by taking a sip of my drink. The other two had better poker faces, so other than a fresh glint of humor, Dwyer gave no sign of how wrong this guess was. Selena rolled her eyes and tipped her head at her “brother.” He responded with a lazy twirl of one hand.
“Why should I enlighten your master? It will do him good to wonder when that loyalty began to erode, how many small betrayals led up to this final one.”
“So you admit that Buzzkill has come to you?”
Selena cut in, “If you want to dance, let’s do it. Otherwise, get the hell out of here.”
The immortals exchanged a long glance, and then the hag inclined her head. “I’ll see you soon. Next time there will be no parlay.”
“Enjoy your promotion,” Selena shot back. “Too bad Buzzkill had to defect for you to get some recognition. That must sap the joy right out of it.”
I actually saw the hag’s jaw clench. To me, it was amazing that none of the people peering at their laptops noticed anything weird about our group, as it seemed so obvious. But nobody glanced up when the old woman left without ordering. At that, Dwyer stretched lazily, like a cat that really enjoyed his nap in the sun.
“Well, that’s an unexpected bonus,” he murmured. “That misunderstanding will greatly aid our plan to keep the winter king distracted.”
Selena snickered. “He’ll be searching everywhere for Buzzkill, trying to find out what you have him doing.”
“And to punish him for the treachery,” I added.
Dwyer nodded, then turned to me. “Truly a superb red herring. Stay alive, won’t you? I have irons in the fire depending on you as a successful diversion.”
Before I could reply, the doors blew open, glass banging on glass. Some customers started, and a few others lingered because the Harbinger in his Colin guise qualified as pure eye candy. Truthfully I wasn’t surprised to see him, only that it had taken this long. He strode toward us, violin case in hand.
“You must already know that I don’t like others trifling with my things,” he said, perching on the arm of my chair.
“Easy. It was only a conversation.” Selena studied us, as if she couldn’t figure out why the Harbinger took such an interest in me.
“Did you sign anything?” he asked, ignoring her.
The sun god faked a yawn. “No need for that. A verbal agreement is more than enough. I have no further business with our girl, so I’ll leave her in your capable hands.”
Dwyer signaled to his entourage, and the guards followed him out. Selena lingered only long enough to remind me, “I’ll keep an eye out for trouble.”
As if I could forget.
“A verbal agreement?” The Harbinger’s tone was dangerously quiet as he watched the others file out. “Our girl? I am … quite provoked.”
“It’s not like that,” I said, though I didn’t really know what “like that” would entail.
Quickly, I explained what went down before he could blow a fuse. Oddly, he didn’t move from the arm of my chair the whole time I talked, and I fielded more than one envious glance. It must have been an unconscious gesture, but he stroked my hair like I was his pet in truth. Once, I tried to scoot away, and he made a sound that sent shivers through me.
Yeah, he’s pissed.
“I’m doing my best to control myself, but I am not pleased,” he said eventually. “Dwyer will use you like chewing gum and spit you out when the flavor is gone.”
Mustering my courage, I touched him on the arm. “I know. But he can help me buy the time I need. It’s not that long by immortal standards; I just need Wedderburn trying to solve the wrong problems for a bit longer.”
“It’s your life.” The Harbinger sounded tremendously unhappy about that fact. “But don’t trust him, or the moon-mad Selena for that matter.”
“I don’t trust anyone. Except you, maybe a little.”
He gentled, his hand slowing on my hair. “You shouldn’t. Not me. Not even a little. But I’m happy you said so.”
“It’s the truth.” Ill-advised as it might be.
The Harbinger relaxed further, as if I’d said the magic words somehow. “If you have time next Friday, I’m calling your debt due.”
Worry warred with curiosity, underscored with amazement that he cared about my schedule. Since when…? Since I’d promised, of course I said, “I’ll be there.”
SONGS OF LOVE AND DEATH
When I agreed to the Harbinger’s request, I didn’t realize, but the Friday he’d chosen was Valentine’s Day. All day at school, student council representatives ferried roses around; you could buy one for a couple of bucks and have it sent with a handmade card to someone you liked. It was a little cheesy, but the cool thing was, they had different colors: red for romance, pink for showing interest, and yellow for friendship. Those might not be the agreed-upon definitions with the floral society, but as a school code, I admired the simplicity.
I got a couple yellow ones, one from Kian, one from Carmen, and three pinks. Judging by the way Wade Tennant made eye contact and waggled his brows as I went by, he must’ve sent one. Reading the card confirmed my hunch. We should get to know each other better, new girl. The other “interest” roses didn’t have cards attached, so it looked like I had secret admirers. I dropped that in the bin but kept the flowers. Together, the five blooms made a pretty bouquet.
Tanya had over a dozen, clutched in her arms like she’d just won a pageant, and they were predominantly red and pink with one sole yellow, probably from her best friend, whoever that was. I hadn’t paid that much attention to her social circle, though she didn’t limit herself to people at the popular table. From what I’d observed, she was fairly nice to everyone.
I sent yellows back to Kian and Carmen at the last-minute sales table, mostly because I hadn’t known “friend” roses were a thing on V-Day. At lunch, everyone seemed pleased wi
th their haul, as nobody in Devon’s group came up empty-handed. Devon had a single red rose, but he didn’t divulge who it was from, despite good-natured teasing from everyone else. To my surprise, Kian had a pink one, and he was practically vibrating.
“I need to talk to you,” he whispered.
“Let’s go get chocolate milk.”
Walking to the cafeteria line offered some privacy, but he still checked over his shoulder. “Vonna sent me a pink rose.”
“You have a lot in common. Thoughts?” Personally, I suspected his feelings for Tanya were basically a crush, but I couldn’t just say “get over her already.”
“I want to get to know her better,” he admitted. “I’ve been tutoring Tanya in science and the more time I spend with her…”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t know, it’s not like I expected. I never thought I’d say this, but … there’s no spark. I mean, she’s nice and everything, but we don’t have a lot to talk about.”
It was kind of amazing that he realized that. “So maybe tell Vonna you’d like to hang out and see where it goes? You don’t have to promise to be her boyfriend until you figure out if there’s chemistry.”
“She’s cute,” he said. “And I love her sense of humor. Plus, the fact that she can talk about classic movies is a huge draw.”
“Sounds like you’re sort of into her already.” Saying that gave me a twinge.
My fingers ached. Okay, that’s a strange reaction. But no other description fit, as invisible needles pricked away beneath my nails. I checked but didn’t see anything that should be making me feel that, though I did glimpse that golden ghost light from before.
“Maybe I am. I guess I just didn’t want to admit I devoted so much time and mental energy to a girl I basically invented.”
“Cool. Now you can try living in the real world.”
My turn in line came, and I bought chocolate milk to lend credence to our absence. “You want that?” he asked.
“Not really,” I said.
For some reason, I hadn’t been hungry lately. Food didn’t taste the same, sort of bland, and the textures seemed wrong too. Kian plucked the carton from my fingers and headed back to the table with a spring in his step. He squeezed in beside Vonna, forcing Nathan to give way. The boy I’d met six short weeks ago wouldn’t have had the courage to do that. Melancholy, I chose a seat across and a few chairs down. Vonna laughed at something Kian said, her dark eyes sparkling. Today, she had on jeans, a red open-weave sweater over the top of a sparkly tank top.
