by Ann Aguirre
Kian and I watched a documentary about bees on cable, but around nine, he pushed to his feet. “I don’t want to go, but I feel like I should.”
“It’s okay. I’ll be fine.” That was a colossal lie, but I had to stand on my own two feet. I’d leaned on him enough over the past couple of weeks.
“Are you going to school tomorrow?”
“Yeah. I don’t want spend the day here alone. If I know my dad, he’ll retreat to the lab, so he can focus on work.”
“Maybe that’s not a bad thing.”
It can be if you neglect all other aspects of your life. Worried my dad might overhear, as the walls weren’t exactly thick, I didn’t say so aloud. Instead I walked Kian to the door and stretched up to kiss him. My heart wasn’t in it, but he didn’t seem to take it personally. He brushed his lips over my forehead in response.
“If you need anything, text me. I’ll be here in two seconds. And I do mean anything, Edie.” His tone was so serious, so earnest, that I actually smiled.
My face didn’t crack. My heart did a little, and sweetness spilled out. I no longer had any hope of resisting or protecting myself from future harm. He was the only star in my firmament, shining in darkest night, so I could always find the path.
“I’ll bear that in mind. Thank you.”
Once he left, the new apartment seemed very quiet. I wasn’t used to the noises in this place, the humming fridge or the creak of the neighbors walking around upstairs. After turning the deadbolt and latching the chain, I retreated to the bedroom, the type where grown-ups argued, fought, and complained bitterly over the ashes of their failed ambitions. I’d never slept in a queen bed for more than a few nights when we traveled.
“So all this is mine now, huh?”
And here you are, talking to yourself.
I hadn’t talked to Vi since it happened, and her e-mails were now verging on panic. Though this was the last thing I wanted to do, I pinged her on Skype. She answered on the second beep, disheveled, frowning in worry. “You okay?”
“No,” I said.
In the baldest words possible, I told her. Now it’s real. I have to live with it.
“Oh God, Edie, I’m so sorry. Let me talk to my parents. I bet they’d let me come to Boston for the weekend. I don’t know what I can do, but I really want to be with you.”
Tears spilled out. I had no control, only a broken overflow valve. I was so tempted to say yes, but seeing her would hurt more. Vi could be here, safe, and my mother wasn’t. I could’ve used a favor to save her, but I didn’t know I needed to. Not fully understanding how far the players would take the game—that was my mistake, and I had to live with it.
Taking a deep breath, I shook my head. “Not right now. Things are really unsettled.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I don’t think my dad could handle visitors.”
“Oh, right. I should’ve thought of that.”
“I have to go.”
“Okay. Call me if you need anything.”
“Thanks. I will.”
It was early, but I went to bed after talking to Vi. The new apartment permitted me to sleep without dreaming, and in the morning, guilt stormed my battlements. I failed the saving throw and cried in the shower, trying to be quiet so my dad wouldn’t hear. After pulling myself together somewhat, I put on my uniform and found him already in the kitchen. No oatmeal this morning—we might never eat it again, because it was my mom’s favorite breakfast food: steel cut, hearty, topped with brown sugar, crushed walnuts, butter, and raisins. He served me a fried egg sandwich instead, and I ate it, mostly because he must’ve run out to get a few groceries from the corner store before I even woke up.
“Thanks,” I said.
“Have a good day at school.”
We both knew that was unlikely, but if I didn’t play along with his determined pretense, then we both might start crying and go back to bed. While it sounded appealing, as a long-term coping strategy, it had little to recommend it. I trudged out the front door and down the station, ten minutes farther than before. The numbness was wearing off, so my mother’s loss throbbed like a rotten tooth.
Teachers treated me with kid gloves at school. So did the student body. Apart from Davina, it was like I had a circle of sadness warding everyone off. We sat by ourselves at lunch, and she tried really hard to cheer me up. I smiled at the right moments, but I suspected she knew it didn’t help. I appreciated the attempt, but also when she stopped. Her own loss might be less recent, but Russ lingered in her eyes, a haunting of what might’ve been.
“Want to get drunk?” she asked, as we left school that afternoon.
“I don’t think it would help. We’ll catch up this weekend, okay? Thanks for coming to the service, by the way. It meant a lot to have you there.”
“You’d do the same for me.” She went toward the T while I looked for Kian.
Oddly, I didn’t find him. I waited for five minutes, then I got a text. I’m so sorry. I can’t make it today. I have something to do.
The message raised all my hackles. He was so protective, I couldn’t imagine anything short of life or death diverting him. It had to be Wedderburn … or the mysterious other he, with whom Kian had made a deal for my sake. In that moment, I made a snap decision, and I took the train downtown instead of going straight home. On the way, I sent word to my dad, so he wouldn’t worry.
I’m with Kian. Will be home for dinner.
Mom’s death had driven his concerns about whether I could be trusted back underground. Or shit, maybe if he didn’t believe me, maybe he felt like he had nothing left. Whatever the reason, he answered, I’m bringing home Japanese. You like yakimeshi, right? I smiled as I sent back, Yep.
I hurried through the front doors of Wedderburn, Mawer & Graf, where I found Iris in the lobby, working the reception desk. Today, everything was red and black instead of bisque. And as Kian had predicted, her look had shifted to match. Crimson hair cascaded past her shoulders, and her eyes gleamed like onyx. I didn’t think I was imagining the predatory light that shone in them.
“Do you have an appointment?”
“I do not. Ask if Mr. Wedderburn has time to talk to me anyway.” The honorific burned my tongue, as I’d much rather call him that asshole or that bastard.
“Have a seat while I check.”
She radiated disapproval and kept me waiting for almost half an hour. At last she said, “You’re a lucky girl. He’ll see you now.”
“Imagine my delight.”
I had never gone upstairs on my own, and I didn’t have an employee badge or security clearance, so she tapped on her keyboard, then gave me a slip of paper. “Don’t lose this.” Her tone implied I was an imbecile, likely to do precisely that.
Ignoring her, I hurried to the elevator before I lost my nerve. Remembering how Kian did it before, I entered the code and pressed my desired floor. The elevator accepted the security check and away I went. The motion pushed my stomach up into my throat, so I was queasy and cold when I stepped onto Wedderburn’s floor. I thought I’d find Kian in his office, but when I entered, there was only the cold man himself, lying in wait.
In a motion that crackled like icicles spearing into the snow, he came around his desk to greet me. He seemed … jolly, and that was one of the worst things I’d ever seen. “Before you begin your business, Edie, let me convey my condolences for your loss.”
That was an unexpected blow. On some level, I grasped that he was keeping tabs on me, monitoring his investment. But I hated knowing he had seen me break down so completely. The tears I shed for my mother belonged to me and me alone. I squared my shoulders, refusing to let him get to me.
“Do you know who did it?” That wasn’t why I had come, actually, but with the question posed, I waited to see how he would answer.
“It’s tragic, but sometimes terrible things happen. ‘To what serves mortal beauty?’” He lifted a shoulder in an eerie, crackling shrug. “From a poem, I think, about how m
an must fade. Sad for you, no doubt, but sometimes it’s simply … fate.”
“You’re saying it was just her time?” My tone sizzled with skepticism. If I hadn’t known about the old man with the bag and his awful children, I might’ve taken the words at face value.
“I may be terribly old,” Wedderburn said in an ominous tone. “But I don’t claim to know all things. For instance … where is your beloved this afternoon?”
DAMNED IF YOU DO
Kian burst through the door with a panicked look, as if Wedderburn might be doing something unspeakable to me. “I’m here,” he said, breathless.
I turned, aware we were on shaky ground. Without being sure where he’d been, I couldn’t even lie to cover for him. And Wedderburn knew it. Still, I put my hand out and Kian took it. His fingers were cold beyond bearing, and they trembled in my grasp.
“Sorry to trouble you. Are you done, Edie?” His urgent tug on my hand said I was.
In coming to headquarters, I’d intended to ask about Kian, but now that he was here, it was impossible. So I nodded. “Thanks for your kind words about my mother.”
As Wedderburn nodded in dismissal, Kian dragged me out of the office and toward he elevator. He was on the verge of a full collapse, something I’d never seen before, and I didn’t resist when he zoomed me past Iris and out to the car. He wasn’t parked in the underground garage; we speed-walked several blocks and he wouldn’t answer any question I asked until we were inside the Mustang.
“Seal it up,” I ordered.
Fortunately, he did, or we would’ve had our first real fight. I made a mental note to ask where he’d gotten a new tin of the stuff, but there were more important issues to discuss. He was shivering so hard that I wasn’t sure he should drive, but when I said so, Kian shook his head. “H-have to get you away from there. Give me five minutes.”
My trepidation increased with his silence, but eventually, he pulled over and rested his head on the steering wheel. Confused and feeling helpless, I rubbed his back. He was the stubbornest person I ever met, and the only solution was to wait him out. A few minutes later, he straightened and reached inside his jacket and silently passed me a packet of papers.
“What’s this?”
“It’s faster if you just read it.”
“Okay. But afterward, you have some serious explaining to do.”
“I will, I promise.”
These pages had the look of official documents, stamped and coded in a system I didn’t recognize. The words themselves were clear; this was a contract, ordering the death of one Mildred Kramer, signed by K. Wedderburn and witnessed by S. Mawer. I read it over three times, but it didn’t make any sense.
“Why?”
Kian handed me another file, marked Acquisitions. I understood now why he had been so eager to get out of the building. When he said he had something to do, he was spying for me. My stomach churned with sick dread as I skimmed this dossier. A lot of it was hard to interpret, having to do with eddies and currents, but this phrase seemed unmistakable.
In Edith Kramer’s optimum timeline, her mother dies. She works alongside her father to complete the project. All research shows that the outcome hinges on that pivotal event.
“It’s time travel,” I said, suddenly sure. “That was the project my mom and dad were working on when she—” I couldn’t finish the sentence.
But Kian was nodding. “I think you’re right.”
“But … that doesn’t even make sense. They’re using technology my dad and I develop right now. How can they use something I haven’t invented yet?”
“Wedderburn made a deal with an immortal who has temporal powers. From what I hear, it was expensive, so he wanted his own method of mucking about in the time stream.”
“So he went forward, stole our tech, and brought it back for his own use in the game.”
“Pretty much. And now he has make sure you stay on the right path, or this whole version of the universe will be wiped out.”
“Jesus. No pressure.” Now I was shaking, too.
“It’s not like the world would end, Edie. Not for everyone else. Things would just … shift, like two steps to the right or something.”
“After all the mystery, it’s a relief to know what’s waiting for me. But … to make sure he wins and I remain a viable piece in play, Wedderburn had my mother killed.” I curled one hand into a fist. “And then he said he was sorry.”
He looked as if he wanted to reach for me, but he feared how I would react. “I had no idea, I swear.”
“I know. You’re a pawn, like me.”
At that, he shook his head. “Not even that. Not anymore.”
“What do you mean?”
“The other night, you said you couldn’t take this. I know how much you want out. You remember how I said Raoul stole an artifact and disappeared?”
“Yeah.”
Calmer, Kian put the car into gear. “I lied to you, Edie.”
“About what?” I couldn’t look at him, tracing the edge of the dash. Maybe I’d rather not know; I couldn’t lose my one true thing, not now.
“When I said I was taking those classes in hopes of figuring out how to win my freedom? That’s bullshit. I’ve only ever been looking for a way out … for you.”
“I don’t like where this is going.”
“So in my Religion and Magic class, the professor mentioned a protective icon. Most of the class sleeps through his digressions, but I took notes. And then I searched the database at WM&G.”
“You found something?”
Kian nodded. “I tried to get it for you. It would’ve let you follow in Raoul’s footsteps, but … I failed. The security was too tight, so I grabbed those files instead. When Wedderburn finds out—”
“He’ll know you’re not loyal. Jesus, what have you done?” I got mad because I didn’t know what other emotion could serve, certainly not the tsunami of fear sweeping over me.
“It won’t be until tomorrow, I think, when he gets the reports. It would’ve been worth it if I had succeeded. I’m sorry.”
I took a second look at the file, but there was nothing about what had happened to the Teflon crew. Apparently, Wedderburn took me at my word when I declined. Maybe Kian was right when he guessed that Dwyer was trying to drive me crazy by hurting the people around me. There was nothing to confirm or deny the speculation, however, in these files.
“Then … we have one night left together. Just one.”
“You’ve given me so much more than I ever expected,” he said softly.
There had to be some way out of this maze, but my brain wasn’t firing on all cylinders. I fell silent, the closer we got to my place. How am I supposed to go upstairs, eat Japanese with my dad, and act like nothing’s wrong? I wanted to cry, break things, and scream until I had no voice left.
“There’s no point in hiding things from me anymore,” I mumbled. “So what did you promise in return for my safety? And who’s the third player?”
He smiled then. “You’re so persistent. I love that about you. Try not to feel sad about the situation with Wedderburn.” Such a stupid word for his imminent death, situation. “I didn’t have that long anyway.”
“Kian! For the last time, what did you promise? And to who?”
“My life,” he said simply. “When I made the compact with the Harbinger, he gave me until my twenty-first birthday. Six months with you, so worth it to be happy that long, knowing you’d be all right after I was gone.”
“Since you said that with a straight face, the world’s lucky you’re never serving on the Supreme Court because you’re definitely the stupidest person on the planet. How does this work? If Wedderburn executes you, won’t it cause problems with this Harbinger?”
The idiot actually grinned. “God, I hope so.”
“This isn’t funny! I won’t be okay if something happens to you. Don’t you get that?”
The weight of the look he aimed at me said when not if, but I couldn’t face it
. “I won’t give up. I promised myself I never would again. There has to be something I can do.”
“Even if you could protect me from Wedderburn, my time will be up in six months.”
“If you don’t shut up, I will seriously punch you. Let me think.”
But no answers came to me. Kian had dug a grave and in the morning, Wedderburn would shove him into it. When he stopped outside my apartment, it was almost six, and I was barely choking back tears. I didn’t want to get out of the car, but I couldn’t make my dad worry, either. You’re all he has left.
“Here’s the plan,” I said. “I’ll have dinner with him, then go to my room like I usually do. I’ll text you.”
“You can call, if you want. I think we’ve reached that point in our relationship.”
“Stop it.” I hated that he could smile, but he seemed pleased with the fact that he’d drawn all the lines around me, just like he’d promised. And he’s fighting for you with his life.
Kian, no.
“Sorry I interrupted. You’ll text me…?”
“And you’ll pop in to get me. I want to spend the night at your place, but I don’t want to freak my dad out. You can bring me back in the morning.”
If he thought I was going to school, however, he was nuts. I’d stay only long enough to make sure my dad left for work. Whatever happened with Wedderburn, I’d go with Kian, and we would face it together. Surely I could fix this, somehow.
“If I was a better person, I’d say no. But I don’t want to spend my last night alone.”
This time I leaned over to kiss him, silencing the words that tunneled into my heart until I couldn’t feel anything but pain. This isn’t happening. This is not real. But like with my mother’s death, I didn’t wake. I got out of the car and went into our apartment, where I ate yakimeshi and pretended I wasn’t dying inside.
