Mortal Danger
Page 2
He nodded. “That’s when a human is about to die.”
Oddly, that cheered me. “So I was going to succeed.”
Kian didn’t seem so pleased. “Yes. In a sense, you’re already gone, Edie. If your fate wasn’t currently in limbo, I wouldn’t be permitted to talk to you. There’s a pivotal moment just before death, when bargains can be made. I’m authorized to offer you three favors now in return for three favors later.”
“I don’t understand. What kind of … favors?”
“Anything you want,” he said.
“Anything?” By my tone, it had to be obvious I meant things bigger and more impossible than tickets to Tahiti.
“My ability to change your life is limited only by your imagination.”
“But then you can ask me for anything,” I pointed out. “Three times. What if it’s not something I can deliver?”
“The favors requested in return will always be within your power to grant. That’s the way it works.”
“But there are no parameters of what you might ask … or when. It might be terrible. Or illegal.” Too well, I remembered “The Monkey’s Paw,” the burden of being a reader. Somebody who spent less time lost in books might’ve already signed on the dotted line.
“You were ready to throw your life away,” Kian said. “But are you brave enough to change it?”
“You never answered me. What are you?”
“How would that help you decide? If I’m a demon, I’m unlikely to admit it, so I could say anything. How would you know if I’m telling the truth?”
He had me there. I scowled and sipped my shake, the possible dangers and consequences banging around my head. Since I’d accepted I didn’t have a future, it seemed less scary to consider everything that could go wrong down the line. If my life imploded twenty years later when the bill came due, wouldn’t it be worth it to be happy first? It had been so long since I laughed that I couldn’t remember what it felt like to walk around without this awful weight in my chest.
“In a theoretical sense, say I agree to your deal. Is there a time limit on when I have to use my favors?”
Appreciation sparked in his gaze. Kian inclined his head. “The first must be used within a year. The rest within five.”
“To prevent people from getting what they want with the first, then sitting on the others until they die, thus blocking you from asking anything in return.”
“Exactly. The return favors may be collected anytime after completion of our side of the bargain.”
“So repayment could be due anytime. Talk about living under the hammer.”
“Some people feel the way. Others live in the moment and don’t worry about what might come.”
I jammed the straw deep into my glass, chewing my bottom lip. “This sounds pretty diabolical. I hope you know that.”
“I’m aware.” Sorrow threaded his tone, making me wonder what could make someone like him sad.
“Can you tell me anything about the people you work for?”
“At the moment, no.”
I’d like to glean some more information before making a decision, but his response implied he could only answer questions after I agreed to the terms. That seemed shady; it couldn’t be good if my benefactors preferred to hide in the shadows. One thing could be said of this situation; curiosity had supplanted despair as my dominant emotion.
“You said you come to exceptional humans. Why me?” I was brainy, but not the kind of smart that cured cancer.
“If I told you why we want to save you, it could screw up your timeline.”
“You mean if I learn that I solve cold fusion, then I might not. I might decide to breed rabbits instead.”
“You hate rabbits,” Kian said gently.
“Yeah.” I did—since one bit me in the fourth grade—but how weird that he knew.
“The deal is on the table. Choose, Edie.”
From here, I sensed it was up to me. “Can I have some time to think about it?”
“No. I’m sorry.”
“It comes down to a leap then, either way. You can put me back on the bridge … only this time you don’t stop me. Will it be like we never came here or went to the mountain?”
“Yes.”
I smiled. For someone like me, there could be only one reply.
THE HOUSE ALWAYS WINS
“I’m in. Obviously my life sucks. If it didn’t, we wouldn’t be here.”
Kian smiled, a soft breath of relief escaping him, like he truly cared, and he was glad he didn’t have to dump me back on the bridge. More likely, he worked on commission. Life had made me cynical, always waiting for the other shoe to drop.
He reached into his pocket and drew out a shining silver coin. At first glance, it could’ve been a quarter; it was around the same size. But there was a symbol I couldn’t identify engraved on one side; more similar to a kanji than any Western language I’d seen, yet I didn’t think it was Japanese. Kian flipped it over, revealing an infinity sign on the back.
“Let me have your wrist.”
“Why?”
“Accepting the mark formalizes the agreement.”
“Will it hurt?”
“Yes. But it’s quick.”
I appreciated his honesty. A deep breath escaped me as I pushed my right hand toward him. His fingers were warm and sure, exposing my palm, then he slid back my sleeve. As promised, it burned like fire when the metal touched my flesh. A glimmer of light shimmered—almost like a photocopier—and an intense prickle-pain worked beneath my skin. He pressed the coin even tighter to my flesh, until I almost couldn’t bear it. I bit my lower lip, blinking hard against rising tears. Just when I thought I’d scream, the sensation eased off.
“Done?” he asked, watching my face.
“You’re asking me?”
“When it stops hurting, I can pull the token away.”
“It just feels like metal now.”
With a relieved look, he removed it and I studied the mark on my arm. My parents would freak if they saw it since it resembled a tattoo. Oddly, there was no residual pain, and the skin didn’t look red or irritated, as I’d seen on people who came to school with new ink.
“There’s no special care required,” Kian told me. “But I’m afraid we’re not finished. I need your other arm.”
“The other symbol?” I guessed.
He nodded. “The infinity sign signifies your agreement to the deal. You need the other mark to identify your affiliation.”
“I have no idea what that means.”
“It tells certain parties that you’re an asset, or part of the opposition.”
“So showing it could help or hurt me, depending on who sees it?” This crap was getting more complicated by the second.
“Yes.”
“Am I allowed to cover these up with armbands or bracelets?”
“Sure. You just can’t change them with normal ink or remove them via laser.”
“Can’t or aren’t allowed to?” There was a fairly substantial difference.
“It’s not physically possible with existing technology.”
“That’s the least of my worries anyway.” Sighing faintly, I braced and gave him my left arm, wishing I knew what that kanji meant.
This time, I was better prepared for the searing pain. The tears spilled and overflowed despite my best efforts, but I didn’t utter a sound while he marked me. At last the coin reverted to cool metal instead of molten lava and I nodded at Kian. He pulled the token away and dropped it into his pocket.
“We’re almost done. Can I see your cell phone?”
“Yeah.”
It was jammed in my right front pocket. My parents insisted I keep it with me, because we communicated mainly via text. I suspected they’d use my cell like a LoJack to track me if I went missing. You almost did. I imagined myself floating in the dark water like Ophelia, only I wouldn’t leave a pale and lovely corpse with flowers tangled in my hair.
“Sure.” I dug it out an
d passed it across the table. Upside down, I watched him enter his name and program his number.
“When you’re ready to request your first favor, call me.”
“Really?” My brows went up.
“You expected more flash?”
“Well, after the mountain trick…”
“I could pop in at random to ask, are you ready yet? but I thought you’d find that startling. And creepy.”
Caught off guard, I laughed quietly. “You have a point.”
“And you have a nice smile.”
I winced. “Don’t. You already got me to agree to the deal.”
“I won’t apologize,” Kian said, “but I’ll stop if it makes you uncomfortable.”
“It just makes me think you’re full of shit.”
Taking my words as a sign to wrap things up, he waved at the waitress to get the check, and once he had it, dropped a few bills to cover it. “Let’s go then. I’ll see you home.”
I hurried toward the doors, hating that moment of vulnerability when the rest of the world could stare at me. By force of habit, my shoulders came forward and my head went down. Hair the color of field mice tumbled forward to hide my face. I felt better once I pushed out into the early morning light. Kian caught the door as it swung back, and then he was beside me, another flash of heat and color in a morning warming up in shades of salmon and vermillion, colors I never wore, but whose drama suited him.
“Are you gonna…” I trailed off and waggled my fingers.
He arched an amused brow. “I’m sorry, what?”
I tried snapping my fingers. “You know. Presto! We’re at my place.”
“Is that your first favor?” Kian tilted his head, and I noticed how tall he was—six feet plus, with a lean build. His muscles were clean and compact, something I rarely noticed about boys before. Admiring guys I’d never date felt too much like a beggar pressing his face against a bakery window in hopeless longing for the delicious things he’d never have. Kian was that kind of forbidden beauty, not for me. Never for me.
I covered that feeling as best I could. “No way. Are people seriously that dumb?”
“Not the ones I save,” he said softly.
It was stupid how good that made me feel. Warm. Being smart had never mattered like it should; it never made me happy. It only let me notice how I didn’t fit in. I could spend hours on equations, but I didn’t know what to say to people my own age. Not that the snobs at school had ever given me a chance. I shouldn’t care what any of them thought, but a dark, seething part of me craved payback. I imagined myself, cool and beautiful, sweeping through the halls while the guys who had called me names stared, knowing they’d never get me. Kian could make this happen.
I was startled to notice we’d reached North Station. “What if I’m ready now?”
“You know what you want?” Surprised tone. Kian led the way to the T. Evidently he planned to escort me to my door.
This has been an incredibly weird morning.
Some people might think this was a superficial request, but they wouldn’t understand why I wanted it. Not just so I’d know—for once—what it was like to be one of the beautiful people. No, once I got inside the golden circle, I’d dismantle it brick by brick. A sharp, angry smile cut free, and I didn’t care what Kian thought. From this point forward, I had a goal—and planning was my forte.
I nodded. “By the time we get to my place, I’ll have the verbiage ironed out.”
“Let me guess, you’re worried about the favor twisting back on you.” A faint sigh escaped him, rich with weary impatience.
“You get this a lot, I guess?”
“Often enough.”
It was a little odd to be ordinary. Predictable. At school, I was the weirdo. Nobody talked to me for fear of coming down with a case of social leprosy. For the last two years, I had been eating in the bathroom, which was disgusting and unsanitary, but it beat the cafeteria, surrounded by empty seats, while the buttholes from the lacrosse team threw pickles at the back of my head.
“I don’t need to worry about that?”
He shrugged. “You can. But I’ll point out that if I don’t make you happy, if I make your life worse, than you’ll end up on the bridge again, and we won’t get our favors repaid.”
That sounded logical, but nothing could’ve prepared me for how strange this day had been. “Isn’t there a codicil preventing a human from killing himself when he owes favors?”
“You still have free will,” Kian said. “Even under the company’s aegis.”
Which meant, presumably, it happened. My shoulders tightened with confusion and uncertainty. Too late for buyer’s remorse. While I wanted to believe that Kian knew what he was doing and he was being straight with me, I didn’t have a trusting nature, especially with the beautiful people. Still, I was alive so far, which was more than I’d expected from the day.
We boarded the train in silence, and for several stops, I constructed my request. Eventually as we approached Saint Mary’s Street, I decided simplicity would serve best. I took a deep breath and followed him off the train. The neighborhood wasn’t quiet, even at this hour. A few undergrads laughed as they stumbled home from a night of partying. I lived in the no-man’s-land just beyond the bounds of Fenway. If I squinted, I could glimpse how the other half lived, a block away in Brookline proper. This area was a weird mix of broke college students and rich medical professionals, but you could usually tell who lived in which buildings by how well they had been renovated. The brownstone where I lived wasn’t pristine, though residents tried to brighten things up by decorating their window boxes.
Belatedly I realized that Kian was waiting to hear my first request. “I want to be beautiful without losing any aptitude I have. No time limits, no melting face, no surprises.”
His teeth flashed white as he grinned. “That’s easy enough.”
“For you, maybe.” A thought struck me, and I stared up at him, wide-eyed. “Or did you wish for the same thing, however long ago?”
“Do you think I did?”
His features were strong but too symmetrical to come from natural design. Everything aligned just so, lending an exotic cast to his perfection. I hadn’t been able to put my finger on what bothered me about him until just now.
“Totally. I’d bet my life on it.”
“You’ll throw that away at the least provocation, won’t you?”
“That’s not an answer. Admit it, you weren’t born looking like that.”
No wonder he had been so nice to me. Beneath the swan feathers, he hid an ugly duckling skin. It made me like him a little more. If he’d been in my shoes, maybe he lacked the natural meanness that I’d experienced at school.
“You’re right,” he said softly.
“Which means you were in my position once. Doesn’t it?”
He sucked in a surprised breath. “People don’t usually deduce that so fast.”
I imagined him, poised on the verge of ending his life, and a chill swept over me. I wanted to touch him—and that wasn’t like me at all. Still, my fingers flexed with the urge. Questions boiled in my brain, but we didn’t know each other well enough for me to ask what had been so bad about his life that he’d wanted out. Seeing him now gave me hope. One day I could put this misery behind me, right? Eventually I’d look back on this moment and be grateful Kian stopped me from making my final mistake.
It also answered the question about his origins. He might not be human anymore, but he had been, once. It hinted of scary things lurking in my future, yet if I scheduled my favors right, I could enjoy life before I started serving Mephistopheles—or whoever Kian worked for. If I wasn’t numb with shock, I’d be more worried.
“In turn, that means you survived your three favors and the repayment.”
“There’s a limit to what I’m allowed to tell you, Edie.”
“It’s like a secret society,” I guessed. “And I’m only permitted what’s available to initiates of my level.”
“Positive.” The moment I said it, my wrist burned like fire, and I whipped it up, narrowly restraining a cry. A dark line appeared across the top of the infinity sign, creepy as hell, like ink working its way out of my skin from the inside. I gasped as the burn subsided, touching my wrist as if I might smear the mark, but it was cool and dry.
“Sorry, I should’ve warned you. That’s a tally. When you have three lines—”
“It means you’ve used all your favors. Got it. Can I see your wrists?”
He offered them without complaint, and I saw now that he had a kanji similar to mine on his left arm, and an infinity sign struck through with three lines on his right. I frowned.
“Why is one of yours a little different from mine?”
“Spoilers, Sweetie”
I was delighted to catch him quoting Doctor Who. Smiling, I went into the brownstone and traipsed up the stairs to our apartment. “You can’t be serious,” I said over one shoulder.
“About what?”
“Not being able to answer. You said you couldn’t until I signed on the dotted line. Well, I have. So start talking.”
“I was kidding, actually. Ownership symbols are tweaked according to a variety of factors, including the faction represented. This line here,” he pointed, “represents Raoul.”
“Who’s that?”
“The guy who offered me a deal.”
For a few seconds, I studied my own wrist, then his. “What part of the mark are you?”
“I’m the curved line crossing these two others.” He traced the arc on his left wrist with one fingertip.
“Ah.” As that was the only difference, the rest of the character had to relate to the faction Kian represented. I’m totally getting a handle on this. Fighting a blush, I asked, “Do you want to come in?”
It was safe to invite him. The day before, my parents had gone to a symposium, something to do with string theory. That was another reason I’d chosen this as the day. My parents wouldn’t be home until later, no chance they would’ve missed me before it was too late.