by Ann Aguirre
I said desperately, “He doesn’t serve me. He cares about me. Surely you can understand the difference.”
“I gave him an order … and he did not follow it. Instead, he told you the whole of my plan and tried to help you escape, using my resources. I have the report here.” With icy irritation, he tapped the page on his desk. “That is … disloyalty. I saved his life, you know.”
Kian didn’t say a single word in his own defense. By the set of his shoulders, he was ready to accept the consequences. Though I didn’t blame him for it, he carried the weight of what the Teflon crew had done to me, the last day before winter break, and he regretted not giving his life for me then. I could hardly breathe for the pain tightening my chest. I had lost too much already.
Wedderburn turned to his desk and pushed a button. A tone sounded, then an inhuman voice said, “What do you require?”
“Send in the clown.”
At first, I thought it was a hideous, macabre joke, another of Wedderburn’s evil games, until the door banged open and a clown stood in the doorway. I narrowed my eyes on the smudged, faded “makeup,” then realized the cracked and flaking skin was imprinted with a huge red mouth with a white oval around it. The thing’s nose was bulbous and tinted red, and it had frizzy orange hair sticking out in all directions. Baggy clothes and giant shoes added to the disturbing picture, but that wasn’t even the worst part. In his hand, he carried a black case, and at Wedderburn’s nod, he opened it, revealing a shining variety of knives in all shapes and sizes: curved, straight, serrated blades, some more like scalpels, others for skinning or boning.
“Which one?” When the clown-thing spoke, it revealed sharp yellow teeth and a long pink tongue that snaked out to wet its mouth as it glanced between Kian and me.
Wedderburn inclined his head with an icy crackle. Kian held his silence, imperturbable in the face of death. In fact, a faint smile curved his mouth, as if he were glad to do this for me. Only this wouldn’t solve anything, and I wanted him with me, not as a martyr whose picture I could clutch and weep over.
“Wait,” I blurted.
“You have no cards to play,” Wedderburn said.
Inspiration struck; epiphany finally clarified into certainty. “That’s not true.”
Kian’s eyes widened and he shook his head, frantic. He tried to intercept me, but the clown wouldn’t let him.
You know me so well. But you’re not stopping me.
“I’m ready to ask for my final favor. Since Kian isn’t allowed to fulfill it, as you’ve disavowed him, then that falls to you, right?”
Wedderburn fixed on me an enigmatic look, steepling his fingers. “Correct.”
I hesitated, thinking about my dad and Davina, who might need protection down the line. But those were maybes. This was Kian’s definite death, here and now. I could not watch him die when I had the power to save him.
For someone like me, there could only be one choice.
“Edie, don’t. Let me go. It’s better this way. If you’re with me, you’ll never achieve what you’re meant to, and you’ll end up indentured. I told you in the note—”
“Then I want Kian set free, now and forever, truly free, untouchable by any immortal in the game. No tricks, no shadows on his timeline. Free.”
As I spoke, Wedderburn nodded, and a final line appeared at the bottom of my infinity symbol. Just like the first two, it burned as if someone held a soldering iron to my skin. I hissed as the sting faded. Asked and answered, now Kian and I have matching ink. Curling my left hand into a fist, I reached for Kian with my right. He looked as if I’d died for him, and I just didn’t know it. Yet he stepped to my side and laced his fingers through mine.
“Your services won’t be required,” I told the clown-thing.
“Today,” it corrected. “Ultimately, my services are always in demand.”
“You may go.” Wedderburn didn’t watch as his executioner strolled out. Instead, he was focused on me. Incredibly, he was smiling. “You’ve just won me a great deal of money, Miss Kramer, along with a fair amount of prestige.”
I froze. “What are you talking about?”
“From start to finish, you’ve behaved exactly as I predicted you would. A handsome boy, a forbidden romance … well. This outcome was inevitable. For a clever girl, you’ve been a bit of a disappointment in some respects. In others? You performed beautifully.”
“Because you wanted me to burn my favors. And I have.” Realization swept over me, along with a steaming hot burst of chagrin, but I couldn’t let Kian die.
“That’s been my goal from the start. If you think I care how you used them, then you don’t understand my strategy at all. Now, darling girl, you are precisely where I want you.”
He turned to Kian. “This doesn’t solve your problem with the Harbinger, though, does it? Since he’s not part of the game. But … that’s not my concern. I’ll have your watch back now, if you please.” The cold one touched a metal wand to the wristband and the thing fell off like a dead insect. I shivered. “The two of you may go.”
“Wait,” Kian protested.
Wedderburn leveled an awful smile on him. “Enjoy your freedom. I’ll ensure the others know you’re no longer in play and may not be used for ancillary maneuvers, either. Go. Be human.” He packed a world of scorn in the last word.
I tugged on Kian’s hand. “Let’s get out of here.”
This might not be a victory, only a reprieve, but I practically ran out of the office and I didn’t stop shaking until we reached the lobby. Iris came around the desk to block our path; she wasn’t smiling. The receptionist held out a hand expectantly.
“I’ve been informed that your employment has been terminated, Mr. Riley. I need your passcard back. Your security codes and clearances will be revoked immediately. I have also been instructed to inform you that if you appear on this property without a written invitation from any of the partners, I’m to have you arrested.”
“I understand,” Kian said, digging into his wallet and turning in his badge.
He seemed dazed as we stepped out into the wan winter light. People hurried about their business-coat collars pulled up and scarves wrapped about the lower half of their faces. I had never noticed how much the same everyone looked in their black coats, like a flock of ravens fluttering in the same direction. Some of them tapped at their phones as they moved and the motion put me even more in mind of pecking birds.
I pulled him toward the T station since he didn’t mention his car being parked anywhere nearby. If I guessed right, he hadn’t brought it, not expecting to need a ride home. “Let’s go to your place.”
That roused him and he fixed furious green eyes on me. “What the hell did you do?”
“The best I could. There was no other way to save you.”
“Now you’re at Wedderburn’s mercy. Trust me, that’s not where you want to be. Edie, you could end up—”
“Indentured. I know. But maybe I won’t. I refuse to believe who I date has that big an impact on my future. Anyway, I don’t care. The most important thing is that they can’t hurt or control you anymore.”
“That’s completely beside the point.”
“Not to me.”
“Damn you,” he whispered.
Then with the people swirling past us, he drew me into his arms and rubbed his cheek against the top of my head. “Don’t you get how this works? I was supposed to save you.”
“Says who? The favors were mine to use on whatever I want most. And, Kian … I need you with me.”
“Just when I think I can’t love you more—”
“You … love me?”
“God, yes. I’m in so deep … and now, you have no use for me. You’re still in the game, what do you need with an awkward, human boyfriend?”
“I’m human, too,” I reminded him. “And … I’d do anything for you. I just did, in fact. In case you haven’t figured it out … I love you, too.”
“But I’m a liability, Edie. The on
es in the game can’t touch me, but immortals are devious. They could contract with noncombatants like the Harbinger, and now that they know I’m your Achilles’ heel—”
“So I’ll buckle on some ass-kicking boots—”
Kian cupped the nape of my neck and leaned in. His lips brushed mine, once, twice, then he nuzzled a path over my jaw to my ear. Rush of warm breath, and he kissed the side of my throat. Not what I expected, better, because it was tender as a rosebud yet not too much for the people surging around us. Gazing up at him, I swallowed hard.
“Wow.”
“You said something about my place?”
“Yeah.”
He slid his hands down my arms and turned our wrists to look at the matched set of marks. “I don’t know what’s coming, but I’ll be there with you.”
“That’s all I could ask.”
“You’re a miracle,” he said softly.
“Einstein said something like there are two ways to live: as if nothing is a miracle or as if everything is. And the fact that I’m alive? That’s the miracle. If I’ve helped you at all, it’s only because you saved me first.”
Kian cradled my face in his hands. “Whenever I’m ready to give up, there you are, hauling me to my feet.” I opened my mouth but he said it for me. “I know. We’ll be okay. As long as we’re still breathing, there’s hope.”
I didn’t kid myself it was over. Dwyer & Fell would challenge my place in the timeline—try to derail me while Wedderburn plotted, schemed, and protected his queen. At the end of next semester, I could end up indentured … or worse. The thin man was still out there, along with the old man with the sack, the black-eyed children, the clown executioner, and doubtless other monsters that I hadn’t encountered yet. Like Kian, I’d burned all my favors too fast and it might come back to haunt me.
At the moment, I didn’t care. I smiled as another Einstein saying sprang to mind—my new credo. You have to learn the rules of the game. And then you have to play better than anyone else.
So I will.
As I followed Kian toward the station, snow sprinkled down, a dusting of white courtesy of Wedderburn, letting me know I wasn’t beyond his touch. Kian’s hand was warm wrapped around mine, his wrist naked without the watch that had been his master. A chill wind skated over me; I turned, staring up at the glass and steel monstrosity where the bitter-cold god hid from the modern world, like so many other ancient, terrible things.
And I whispered, “Game on.”
AUTHOR’S NOTE
I’ve always been fascinated with anthropological phenomenon, how certain divine archetypes permeate civilizations in wildly diverse geographic regions. Humans have been inventing similar stories to explain the natural world for eons. Urban legends intrigue me in the same way—tales repeated mouth to ear, winging through phones and forums, until people are convinced that a young couple has really been murdered in the woods by a man with a hook for a hand and that you can, in fact, summon things in a darkened mirror. Fear is a visceral emotion, impossible to banish from modern life. At the heart of us, we are still primitive creatures warding off evil with flaming brands.
Which brought me to this idea: Imagine a world where, if enough people believe in them, the nightmares come true. The delicious awfulness of it worked on me until I had to combine all of these factors and write it as Mortal Danger. I had a blast researching various mythologies and creating new characters based on old legends, like Wedderburn. I’m sure you’re all wondering about the Harbinger, who you’ll learn more about in the sequel. I also trolled the Internet, mining for gold, and that’s where I found Slenderman. The thin man is my version, given life by everyone who read stories and repeated them as if they were real. I found so many creepy things that they wouldn’t all fit in one book, so there are many shocks and gasps yet to come. The Immortal Game is messy and convoluted, full of monsters and magic, science and sacrifice. I hope you enjoy it as much I do, though the stakes are terrifyingly high and no one is safe.
In some ways, this is a deeply personal book. Confession: I have walked in Edie’s shoes as a weird and awkward outcast myself. I, too, have stood on that emotional ledge and wondered if anyone would care if I checked out. Many of her thoughts were mine first, and despair should never be taken lightly. Please understand that suicide is not an ending to pain, it only creates more. If you’re feeling this way, please seek help. If there’s nobody in your life to talk to, there are people who will listen: suicidepreventionlifeline.org. I muddled through alone, but it’s not the best option, and I want better for all of you. Dear readers, whatever you’re going through, it’s not your fault, and time can mend it, if you fight on. The sadness passes, even when you think there’s no hope. But you have to be fierce; don’t let anyone take away your inner light. You are important. You matter. And if you quit before you’ve begun, the world will be lesser for it. I’m glad I didn’t let the bullies win. I’m glad I’m still here, writing stories for all of you. Thank you for reading them.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thanks to Laura Bradford, who lets me lead with my heart. I can be impulsive, but she never tries to turn me away from whatever direction I’m running in. That’s why we work so well together, because I need that freedom, or else I lose the joy.
Next, I must express my utmost appreciation for my amazing editor, Liz Szabla, for not asking me to pull my punches. Sometimes my books hurt, but they’re supposed to. She’s also great at making sure the complicated worlds in my head translate clearly for readers on the page. I love everyone at Feiwel and Friends; the whole team does an amazing job from cover art to interior design, marketing, sales, and event planning. Jon, Jean, Rich, Elizabeth, Anna, Molly, Mary, Courtney, Allison, Kathryn, Ksenia, Ashley, Dave, Nicole … there are more incredible people pushing me toward greater success and I’d like to hug each and every one of them. Your work makes mine possible, so thank you so much.
Kudos to my lovely copyeditor, Anne Heausler, and my proofreader, Fedora Chen. Because of their talents, my books are beautifully polished, a feat I could never achieve on my own. Thank you both!
Now I roll out the star-studded list of those who helped with Mortal Danger, encouraged me, or answered questions: Rachel Caine, Lish McBride, Donna J. Herren, Leigh Bardugo, Bree Bridges, Yasmine Galenorn, Marie Rutkoski, Lauren Dane, Robin LaFevers, Megan Hart, and Vivian Arend. There’s also the two invaluable writer loops that keep me sane, and I can’t forget Karen Alderman and Majda Čolak, my two beta readers. You’ve all contributed to my success, and I adore you for it.
My husband and children—they listen to me rant, then offer hugs, hot tea, and solutions to plot problems. I couldn’t do this without them. Hear that, beloved family? You’re the best.
Readers, it’s just you and me now. I think of you savoring my stories and kick my feet in glee. This is everything I’ve ever wanted, and each time you put your faith in me by opening one of my books, you’re making my dreams come true. And with all my heart, I thank you.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Death Watch
The House Always Wins
So Svengali
A Stitch in Time
Invincible Summer
Home Is Where the Heartache Is
Blood in the Water
The Sharks Are Circling, Circling
Shadow Dance
That Frying Pan Was Pretty Nice, Actually …
Ice, Ice, Baby
All Good Things
Another Saturday Night & I Saw a Monster
The Art of Making Enemies
Behold a Pale Horse
A Grief Like Fear
The Eye of a Little God
The Sleep of Reason
Your Friendship Is Killing Me
Finding the Lost
A Demon, Dreaming
Normal Is Another Country
The Dark Side Does Not Have Cookies
For Every Action
, There Is a Punch in the Face
The Pawn in Play
Anticipation of Evil
What Is Gone Becomes Reality
Damned If You Do
A Sacrifice to Love
Author’s Note
Acknowledgments
