Mortal Danger

by Ann Aguirre

  Yet I knew someone was watching me.

  Eager to get home, I mentally apologized to my parents for failing to retrieve dinner and broke into a run. As soon as I stepped in, I felt immediately safer, though I was sure that was psychological. Both my parents were there.

  “No takeout?” my dad asked.

  “Sorry, I forgot.”

  With a faint sigh mumble of “teenagers,” my dad started cooking. My mom didn’t, unless you counted oatmeal. She was pretty ferocious on the subject of gender roles, so she’d bought a bunch of DIY repair books, and she handled all minor maintenance, like broken light sockets or leaky faucets. Since my dad had zero interest in being a handyman, he was happier doing the cooking and cleaning anyway.

  “So what’re you making??” I asked.

  He sounded grumpy. “Stuffed artichokes. How was school?”

  “I learned a lot.” That was pretty much my pat answer every day.

  Unsurprisingly, my mother asked, “Such as?”

  I was prepared for the inquisition to take this turn, however, and I summarized what we covered in physics and Japanese. My mother had less interest in World History and AP Lit, though she did lecture me on the importance of writing meaningful papers. “It’s good practice for your college applications. How are you coming with those? You need to have your essay shipshape by early October.”

  “I know. I’ll work on it.”

  “Dinner’s in an hour,” my dad cut in.

  From his conspiratorial nod, he knew he was saving me from my mother’s zealous approach to college prep. I acknowledged his intervention with a smile. “Okay. I’ll get started on my homework. Call me when it’s done.”

  In my room, I remembered how the creepy guy on the platform had tried to grab my wrist, the one that now bore the infinity mark. I’d kept it hidden from my parents beneath long sleeves, but I needed to invest in some leather wrist cuffs, because eventually Mom and Dad would ask why I never wore T-shirts anymore, even to lounge around the house.

  Forcing that worry aside, I powered up my laptop and turned on my phone for the first time all day. There were three texts from Kian and none of them made much sense.

  There’s something you need to know.

  Did he hurt you? I guessed he was referring to the spooky guy in the subway, and I’d give a lot to discover how he knew. I read on.

  Whatever you do, don’t let him touch you.

  Cold crept over me, prickling my skin into goose bumps. More anxious than ever, I texted back, I’m fine. What’s going on?

  I had messages from Vi and Ryu, but they were reassuringly ordinary, just chatty and full of tidbits about their daily lives. It sucked that I couldn’t tell the truth about myself, but how would I begin to explain? I responded to those while waiting for Kian to answer. When he didn’t, I tried not to worry. Pretending everything was normal, I opened my lit book and actually jumped when my dad thumped on the door to let me know dinner was ready.

  “Coming!”

  Thankfully, my mom and dad carried the conversation, discussing some project that needed grant funding. I contributed little, conscious that my phone still hadn’t pinged or vibrated. I didn’t want to worry about Kian, considering how little I trusted him, but he was also my only ally in this mess.

  “You look pensive,” my dad said.

  “Just thinking about college options.” Probably I shouldn’t have used that excuse, but it was the first thing I thought of after he startled me.

  “There a lot of great possibilities here in Boston,” my mom put in. “And you could live at home until you graduate, save up for your own place.”

  “We can get you free tuition if you go to—”

  “I know, Dad. You’ve made it clear that you’d love for me to go to BU.”

  “It’s an option. Think about it.”

  I finished my artichoke and escaped before he told me how lucky I was to have such a bright future ahead. That night I finished all of my homework and got ready for bed, but I never heard from Kian. With a faint sigh, I carried my phone to the window and looked out over the dark street. Lights streaked the pavement, leaving patches of darkness that seemed almost sentient. The longer I stared, the more they swelled and seethed with movement until I slammed the curtains shut with trembling hands. Fear had a hold on me when I fell asleep and the next morning, its icy fingers were still wrapped around my throat.

  On the way to the station, I walked into a flutter of pigeons, and it seemed their tiny, beady eyes and flapping wings reflected purposeful intent. I must have looked like a crazy person as I ran from a flock of dirty winged rats, but I didn’t stop until I was inside the train car. As it left the station, in the space between one blink and another, I saw the thin man from last night standing on the platform, but when I stared harder, he melted before my eyes, leaving only a dark stain on the cement.

  Okay, so I’m going crazy. There are probably pills for it.

  At school, I was distracted enough that Colin made me stay after first period. The rest of the girls seemed disappointed that he singled me out of instead of them and I imagined they’d daydream in class tomorrow.

  I tried not to show my impatience as he asked, “Is something wrong, Edie? I know I’ve only had you in class for a few days now, but you’re usually quite lively and engaged. Today, it was as if you just weren’t here.”

  “I have some things on my mind,” I said.

  Like where the hell is Kian? And what am I seeing? Not seeing. Whatever.

  “Anything you want to talk about?” He fixed a soulful look on me, and I wondered whether he wanted girls to fall head over heels for him. Or maybe he just didn’t realize how a desperate teenager might read his interest.

  “Not really. I have to get to my next class.” I hurried off without waiting for him to respond. Maybe I was looking for weirdness, but the new teacher seemed way too interested in me after just a few days in class. It was possible he was a run-of-the-mill creeper or that I was reading too much into genuine professorial concern.

  “You’re so lucky,” Nicole said as we left AP Lit. “I’m planning to fail the first exam so he’ll tutor me.”

  “Sounds like an excellent plan,” I answered with only a hint of irony.

  I tried to pay more attention in the rest of my morning classes, if only to escape scrutiny. Jen was waiting for me at my locker before lunch, so I went with her to the cafeteria, but my plans to cause trouble were on hold in response to more pressing problems: Kian incommunicado, Wedderburn, Mawer & Graf doing God knew what, and mysterious opposition that might try to hurt me to prevent me from doing something years later. If I told anyone, I’d wind up in a mental hospital for sure.

  A small voice whispered, If you don’t teach these jackasses a lesson, they’ll think they can do whatever they want to people. Put that way, it seemed more critical to move forward, not because of what they’d done to me, but due to harm they might inflict on someone who wasn’t as lucky as I’d been. So when Allison cut in ahead of Jen and me in the line, I took it as a sign. Gift horse, mouth. I’m on it.

  “Russ said the funniest thing yesterday,” I said.

  Jen raised a brow at me. “I highly doubt that.” Apparently she shared my private estimation of his brainpower.

  “He said the only reason you guys hang around with Cam is because he’s got a big house and his parents are gone a lot. Is that true?”

  The other girl shrugged, her eyes going to Allison, as if to tell me I couldn’t trust her. Well, duh. I’m counting on that. Regardless of where it came from, this home truth should start a rift between Russ and Cameron. If my observations on social interaction held true, eventually the guys would take sides. And this was only the beginning.

  Allison didn’t repeat what she’d overheard until just before the warning bell. Wisely, she waited until Russ went to the bathroom and then she leaned over and whispered to Cameron while staring at me. He fixed me with a look that was part confusion, part dread; I met his
gaze squarely and smiled. In some deep, dark part of his lizard brain, he recognized me as a threat, but he couldn’t reconcile it rationally.

  “Talk to you guys later,” I said.

  After school, as I headed out, I glimpsed Russ and Cam arguing near the guys’ bathroom. Russ shoved him, hard, against the lockers, and I smiled. Tomorrow there would be some blowback on me, but not as much as Allison expected. I pressed through the crowd and strode toward the front gate, where I was astonished and relieved to find Kian waiting for me. Pointedly I stopped, checked my phone, then shook it at him; I was tempted to throw it.

  He crossed the road toward me. Every time I saw him, it was a shock all over again. On closer inspection, though, he’d definitely looked better. Dark shadows cradled his eyes, and his clothes looked like he might’ve slept in his car. Before today, I’d never seen him unshaven; scruff prickled along his jaw, giving him a surprisingly rugged look. My fingers itched to touch the copper streaks in his hair, and despite my misgivings about his trustworthiness and his story, I wanted to hug him and then kiss the crap out of him.

  “Before you yell at me, exhibit A.” His phone was a hunk of melted metal. “I ran into trouble after I texted you.”

  “I can see that. Why didn’t you pop in to see me?” But as soon as the question emerged, I recalled how awkward it had been, the last time I saw him. In his shoes, I probably wouldn’t have risked a surprise visit either.

  “You said you prefer if I don’t do that. I think the word ‘creepy’ might’ve been thrown around.”

  “That was before.”

  “Before what?”

  To my aggravation, I didn’t know what to say. Our non-relationship was confusing, especially when he gave me a light kiss for the benefit of anyone who might be watching.

  I eventually muttered, “How hard could it be to buy a new phone? Or e-mail me.”

  “Come on. We won’t settle anything standing here and I have things to tell you.”

  “Me too,” I said, thinking of the guy in the subway.

  “You go first.” He opened my door with careless courtesy and then jogged around to hop in on the driver’s side.

  I summarized the weird subway encounter and when I finished, Kian wore a ferocious scowl. “So I was right. They’ve already found you.”

  “Who has?”

  “The company is called Dwyer & Fell. They mask another faction in the game, just as Wedderburn, Mawer & Graf does.”

  “Game?”

  “From what I hear, Wedderburn and Dwyer have been competing for centuries.”

  Pondering the implications, I spoke before I was sure. “But that means—”

  “They aren’t human.” Kian likely saw my uncertainty and filled in the blank.

  Understandable. We had too much ground to cover for him to wait for me to make logical deductions when he could supply the answers. But that didn’t address the fact that he looked terrible; something bad obviously went down during his long silence.

  “So what happened? Are you all right?” I couldn’t restrain the expression of concern and he shot me a grateful look.

  “A bit singed here and there, no life-threatening injuries. There’s no proof Dwyer & Fell are involved, but it’s no coincidence that my place burned last night.”

  Muttering a curse, I shifted in the seat to take a more careful inventory of him. Now that he’d mentioned it, I could see a smear of ash he’d missed on his temple and when I breathed in, I pulled hints of soot and smoke.

  “Why are they targeting you?”

  “To weaken you,” he said quietly. “They’re not permitted to go after you directly, but they can attack people close to you. Pawns like me are always the first to go.”

  “Whereas I’m the queen in play?” I joked, trying to lighten the mood.

  I couldn’t believe how serious he seemed as he glanced over with grave green eyes. “At the moment, yes.”

  “I don’t understand. WM&G pays you well and trusts you with special assignments. How does that make you a pawn?”

  He wore an inscrutable look. “If I’m eliminated, it doesn’t hurt Wedderburn. True, the company is out the cost of my favors, but when you consider the scale they operate on—”

  “It’s a drop in the bucket,” I guessed.

  “So, to them, my chief value resides in my connection to you. The game can change at any time, you understand, but right now, you have a vital, viable future to protect.”

  “I’d give a lot to know what future-me achieves and why it’s so critical.” I sighed. “Seems like it’s past time to visit you at work.”

  “Agreed. That’s where we’re headed, in fact. Wedderburn asked to meet you.”

  My heart stuttered in my chest. I’d asked to tour the place, but this was different. His boss wanted me there, and it made me nervous. “Any idea why?”

  “He has a proposition for you.” Though his tone was matter-of-fact, he shook his head ever so slightly.

  Right. Whatever Wedderburn wants, I say no. Provided that I believed Kian had my best interests at heart. I wished I could be sure he did. I can’t let myself be taken in by good looks and a pair of sad eyes. That would make me quite an idiot.

  “I hope I can remember not what I’m not supposed to know,” I muttered.

  “Just listen and act appreciative. Wedderburn has a thing for humility. And when he makes his offer, tell him you need time to think about it.”

  That didn’t sound ominous or like bad advice. I might’ve done the latter without Kian’s guidance. I sat quiet for the remainder of the drive, though I stole periodic looks at him, unable to stop reassuring myself that he was really here. Absently I touched the infinity symbol on my wrist. Though it looked like a tattoo, the raises felt more like a brand.

  “Does it hurt?” he asked.

  “No. It just…” I couldn’t explain it, but it felt as if the thing were alive on my wrist and operating independently of me, like it might, someday, force my right hand to do things I didn’t want.

  More crazy. But if I can’t share it with Kian …

  So I took a deep breath and blurted all of that out. I expected him to stare in shock or even laugh. Instead he swore. “It’s happening too fast. They’ve accelerated the timetable, hoping to push you into burning your favors.”

  “It’s not bothering me enough to make me ask you to take it off my arm.” But I stared at the symbol, quietly horrified, like it was an alien using me as its host.

  “That’s not something I could do anyway. That mark is part of you now.”

  Before I could ask what he was talking about, he pulled into an underground parking lot. The place was dark and creepy as the car went down, down, down, and it wasn’t better when Kian pulled into a spot that had his name painted on the wall. It made me think he was more important than he was telling, and I couldn’t escape the possibility that he might’ve been lying about everything, from his age to his name. While I was sure there had been a Kian Riley, it didn’t mean he was that person. None of the stories I’d found online had included a picture.

  “Try not to be afraid,” he whispered as he opened the door for me. “Some of them find it … exciting.”

  ICE, ICE, BABY

  Wedderburn, Mawer & Graf had offices downtown, a glittering glass and steel monstrosity some twenty stories tall. The only hint as to who owned the building came in the form of a bronze plaque beside the front door with the names graven in copperplate lettering; the sign looked much older than the skyscraper, burnished with a patina created by time and the elements. Doubtless Kian wondered why I went out front to look around when we’d come up from the garage elevator, but I wanted to get a better sense of where I was.

  Call it recon.

  The reception area was banal to the point of seeming ironic—with beige upholstered chairs in the waiting area and abstract art in shades of brown. Even the receptionist seemed to have been hired to go along with the room, as she had ash-blond hair and brown eyes, skin that
almost matched the walls. And she was wearing, you guessed it, an ensemble in various hues of brown and beige. She followed us with her gaze as we went past her to the elevator, but she didn’t speak.

  “She’s unnerving,” I whispered to Kian.

  “Iris has that effect on people. She … discourages walk-in problems.”

  “I imagine. It’s weird the way she blends in with the décor.”

  “She’d do that no matter what color scheme they chose.” The worst part was, I had no idea if he was kidding, and I didn’t want to ask.

  The elevator seemed really, really cold, so I exhaled as a test, and my breath showed in a puff of white smoke. “It’s warmer outside.”

  “Technically, we’re not in Massachusetts anymore.”

  While I chewed on that, the car zoomed us to the tenth floor, then the doors dinged and opened. “This is my department.”

  “Do you have a cubicle with a desk?” I made the joke because I was growing shakier with every step, and I had no idea why. It wasn’t just the cold, but something about this building just … was not right.

  From the elevator, I glanced down an interminable white hallway. In fact, the length of that corridor seemed to exceed the diameter of the building, though I wasn’t sure how that was possible. Occasionally, I’d dream about an infinite hallway, interspersed with identical doors. Dream dictionaries said halls meant untapped portions of your psyche and closed doors symbolized missed opportunities. In symbolic combination, this place burgeoned with loss and untapped potential. We passed eight doors, all spaced equidistant, and from behind a couple of them, came the sound of muffled screaming.

  “You said you were afraid this place would freak me out,” I said softly. “Good call.”

  It felt like we walked for a good five minutes, but when I checked my phone to find out, it had frozen on the time when we entered the building, and no matter what buttons I pushed, it wouldn’t respond. I glanced up at Kian and he mouthed, Later. Okay, now I was genuinely losing my shit. Only a lifetime of training in the school of If You Cry, We Win kept my poker face intact. I clenched one hand into a fist at my sides, nails biting into my palm.