Legacy: The Girl in the Box #8 (34 page)

“Reminding me why I’m doing this,” he said. “Every once in a while I waver, I think maybe it’s not worth the cost. But you—you’re the reason. You’re who this is for.”

“I don’t want it,” I said, almost croaking it out. “Just stop it. I don’t need your ... pity or whatever it is.”

“You know what it is,” he said, and there was a glimmer in his eye. “I’ll see you again.” With that, he stopped hovering and flew straight up, melting through the rebar like it wasn’t even there, and arched off into the dark sky.

“Sienna,” Old Man Winter croaked, rasping my name out from his burnt, blackened husk.

I started toward him, then stopped, waiting a few feet away. “What do you want, old man?”

“I ... can help you ...” he said, and every word was a battle for him.

“I don’t need your help,” I said, keeping my distance. “Why don’t you just die in peace?”

“Please,” he said, and turned his scorched face toward me. The deep lines were all burned away, and I could see the sinew and bone, the last of the blackened flesh that remained, and it reminded me of a time when I’d lost a hand to fire. “I can ... help you ...”

“Fine,” I said. “Help me. Tell me what you know, and be quick about it.” I looked him over. “Even as a meta, I’m guessing you’ve got minutes remaining, if that.”

He struggled, and blood pumped out from his open skin, searing and hissing with heat as it poured out onto the dusty concrete floor. “Take me ... take me with you ...”

“There’s no medical unit that can save you now,” I said, and stooped down next to him, still taking care to keep a foot or so of distance between us. “You’re ... uh ... toast. Literally.”

“Take me with you,” he said again, and his long arm came out. I didn’t bother to dodge, and his blackened fingers landed on my arm. “
With
you.”

I looked at his scorched flesh touching my pale arm, and I shook it off. It left a trail of carbonized ash and dust marring my bare skin. “No.” I felt a rage build up inside me, welling up with disgust. “No. No, I will not.”

“I can help you defeat him. Help you ...”

“I don’t want your fucking help,” I said, and I felt my body and my voice shake. “I don’t
need
your help.”

“Together, we could save the world,” he whispered, his voice starting to fade.

“You could have helped me save the world months ago,” I said. “Instead you forced me to kill the only man I’ve ever loved.” I stood and took a step back from him. “You made me a murderer.”

“No ...” His voice was growing fainter. “I made you ... strong. You needed to be strong, to be willing ... in order to fight him. I gave you ... the gift of rage, of anger ...”

“I won’t do it,” I said, shaking my head, looking down on his burnt, frail, thin body on the pavement. “I won’t let you become a part of me, won’t carry you with me for all my days like some sort of curse. You’ve abused me and my body enough for one lifetime, I won’t give you a chance to do it again.”

“Sometimes ...” he whispered, growing fainter by the second, raspier, “the hero has to do the hard things ... the cruel things ... in order to do the right thing. I had to ... teach you that. Make you ... willing to do ...” His voice trailed off.

“You don’t sound any different than him,” I said and drew my arms tightly around my midsection. “You
are
no different than him. And ultimately, what you leave behind will be exactly the same as him—just a bunch of graves all in a line, with the last one being your own.” I turned on my heel and started to walk away.

“Sienna ... wait ... you can still ... beat him ...” the rasp grew fainter with each step I took. “You can’t ... leave me like this ...”

I turned over my shoulder to look at him one last time. “Last time I saw you, you left me frozen and unconscious in the snow. Now I’m going to leave you burnt and dying.” I turned away from him for the last time. “Seems like there’s a karmic balance in that somewhere.”

“I can still ... help you ...”

“Winter ... Erich ...” I said, not even turning around this time, as I walked off into the night, “... you can’t even help yourself.”

Scott caught me just outside the outer wall of the science building, as the cool night air blew through gently. “You all right?” he asked, eyeing me cautiously.

“Fine,” I said, and he fell into step beside me. “You heard?”

“Everything,” he said. “You didn’t really go at Sovereign at all. You buying into this idea of his invincibility?”

“I tried to drain him,” I said, “that should count for something.”

“Was that what that was?” He started to register understanding. “It all makes sense now, the bit about ‘come inside.’ I thought maybe it was—” He flushed and then looked down. “Never mind. I followed your lead.”

“I figured as much,” I said, my strides chewing up the distance between me and the headquarters building. “Since I didn’t hear any sniper rifles bellow out in the night.” I tapped the earpiece buried in my right ear. “Ariadne, call my mother. Get them back here, Sovereign knows.”

“I heard,” she said, “and they’re already on their way. They’re about twenty minutes out; I guess they decided to stay at a motel nearby, just in case.”

“Well, that was stupid.” I halted as we reached the pavement next to HQ, the quiet, wet swish of the grass silenced as I stepped off of it. “Maybe I was wrong for not going at him full out, but when I tried to attack him, he didn’t even act like I was moving at him. When I fired my gun, he shrugged it off.” I held my hand up. “When he touched me, it was like Andromeda all over again. Nothing.” I looked up at the night sky above me, and saw a patch of lit clouds under the yellow lamp effect. “What the hell is he?”

“A lot of trouble,” Scott said. “He fried Winter?”

“Crisped him,” I said, and nodded my head back to the construction site. “He was still alive when I left. Barely.”

“I heard that, too,” he said. “You sure walking away was the best idea? I mean, if he had the answers and you could get them ...”

“It’s what he wanted,” I said then cursed. “He wanted me to absorb him, and I just ... ugh. I mean, I make decisions with my logical mind most of the time, don’t I?”

“More than most people I’ve met, yeah,” he agreed.

“I couldn’t, this time, though.” I put my hands on my hips and let myself sway. “Couldn’t do it. Couldn’t put aside my revulsion for him to let it happen.”

“You could have locked him in a box for all eternity,” Scott suggested. “Your own little version of imprisoning him for his crimes.”

“I don’t want to imprison him,” I said. “He wanted to be imprisoned because he was too chickenshit to die. I don’t want him in my head. Erich Winter is out of my life.” I looked back to the wreckage of the science building. “He’s out of life, period. Whatever answers he had were too toxic for me to want any part of.” I folded my arms. “I’ll find another way.”

Scott looked down for a minute, shuffling his feet, then back up at me. “You sure about that?”

“Yeah,” I said, staring up into the sky again. The stars were peeking out from behind the clouds, just faintly, now. “I have to.”

We sat around my office, just waiting, Li, Ariadne, Scott and I. I still had the smell of Winter’s burnt flesh in my nostrils. I wondered if it would ever leave.

“Are we good now, Li?” I asked the question and caught the eye of the agent, who was sitting stone silent on the couch.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Li said, and I could tell he truly didn’t.

“Your killers are dead,” I said. “Security is scraping their scorched corpses off the lawn as we speak.”

“Congratulations on sitting back and letting them become human s’mores for a supervillain,” he said, giving me a dirty look. “I was after justice, not vengeance.”

“Awesome,” I shot back. “Tell me where in your system a meta gets justice. Please, point it out to me. Is it in the life sentences prescribed for all violent offenders?”

“I don’t think this is going to get us anywhere,” Scott said. There was a moment’s pause. “Did you tell Senator Foreman that they’re wrapped up?”

“I sent him an email,” Li said. “I’m sure his colleagues will be pleased.”

We settled into an uneasy silence, and Ariadne had her eyes anchored on me. “What?” I asked finally.

“You saw him die?” she asked.

“Security is bringing him in right now,” I said. “You can visit him in the morgue, if you like, but I was assured by Dr. Perugini that it was indeed Erich Winter—going by genetic sample—that he is, in fact, dead, that the likely cause of death was burns covering one hundred percent of his body, and that he was going to, and I quote, ‘Stink up the
maledetto
office if I don’t get his corpse out of there soon.’”

“That fast, huh?” she spoke quietly, looking down.

“That fast, what? How quickly he died?” I remembered the sound of the shrieking, something so unlike the man I’d known as Winter. “Yeah, it was about as fast as could be expected.”

“Can we talk about the giant elephant in the room?” Scott asked uneasily from the corner.

“Yeah, I know my decor sucks, but I’ll get around to it sooner or later,” I quipped, in spite of feeling not particularly witty. Bleh.

The door opened before Scott could have his say, and Reed entered, followed by my mother. “The dorm is still locked down,” she said before I could say anything. “All our little metas—the few that remain, anyway—are all locked up tight with it.”

“Thank you,” I said.

“So,” she said, “you met Sovereign.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Big surprise. He didn’t try to kill me. Like, at all. He didn’t even have a cross word for me. I’m a little confused.”

“He didn’t try very hard to kill me, either,” my mother said, warily. “Which is worrisome.”

“Count your blessings,” Reed muttered. “He’s quite content to kill everyone who’s not a woman of the Nealon family.”

I saw a haunted look on my mother’s face as she looked at Reed, and I wondered what she was thinking. I closed my eyes and pictured Sovereign’s face, the one I would have associated with Joshua Harding only a few hours before. I didn’t know how to feel about him, whether to hate him or not. Then I thought about Erich Winter and realized I didn’t really have the energy to hate anyone anymore. “Weissman will be coming,” I said.

“We better come up with another plan, then,” Scott said, “since it sounds like this one is blown. And about that elephant—”

“I don’t know why, okay?” my mother said, turning on Scott. “I don’t know.” She shot a guilty look at Reed. “I watched him kill people I cared about, and he spared me with barely a touch. He got angry, got aggressive, held me up in the air, handled me in a way I’d never been roughed up before. It scared the living hell out of me, but what was worse was that he told me he’d be watching and alluded to what he’d do if I ever had a daughter ...” she looked at me, and I saw the guilt lace through her, “... but he didn’t hurt me. Not really.”

“Am I the only one seeing the obvious motive here?” Scott asked. “Clearly, he—”

There was a knock at the door that interrupted Scott right in the middle of his thought. I gestured toward it and Reed turned the handle, letting the door swing wide to reveal Kat, standing just outside, her body partially obscured by the doorframe. “Oh,” she said. “I didn’t know you’d all be having a meeting this late.”

“It’s fine, Kat,” I said, leaning my head back on my headrest for the millionth time. “Come on in. Might as well join the party; it’ll be like a reunion.”

“Even more than you think,” she said, and started to come in, shuffling slowly. It took a moment for her to clear the doorframe and a second longer for me to register that she had someone with her, leaning on her, getting her assistance to walk. His body was smaller than when last I’d seen him upright and moving, but it was him, nonetheless, and I felt a shot of warmth as I stood.

“Janus,” I said, and felt a little tingle of joy despite my weariness. “You’re ...” He looked up, his expression hangdog as any I can ever remember seeing, as Kat brought him into my office and helped set him on the couch in front of my desk. “You’re awake.”

“I am awake,” he said, “but only barely.” He held a hand up to his head as though he were experiencing great pain. “I have had some troubling nightmares, as you might imagine. Terrible dreams. Things that I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemies, though I am told that list is not so long as it might once have been.”

“So you remember?” I asked, watching his lined and sagging face.

“I remember a great pain in the back of my head,” he said, “and little else after that. Until just now, when someone ... touched my mind. Someone who should not be able to touch my mind.” He looked concerned. “Sovereign.”

“Sovereign?” I asked. “He woke you up?”

“I believe so, yes,” he said. “With the words, ‘Someone should tell her.’” He blinked. “Which was ironic, since I was about to tell you before Weissman so rudely interrupted me.”

“Tell me what? How to beat Sovereign?” I leaned forward, hoping to hear something I’d been looking for, something I’d been longing for.

“Perhaps,” he said, still looking dreadfully tired. “At the very least, something helpful. Some knowledge of what he represents. What he wants. What he—”

“I need to know,” I said, standing, leaning over the desk toward him. “I need to know some basics. Something to start with. To defeat him. I need to know my foe.” I squeezed my hands together, knuckles pressed against the hard surface of the desk. “I need to know what type of meta he is.”

Janus started to open his mouth, his lip quivered, and he looked down. He folded his hands in his lap and lowered his head. “Yes. Yes, you do. You need to know. Very well, then,” he said and looked up at me, face resolute, like he had committed at last to stepping over some line that he had sworn he would never cross.

“Sovereign is ... an incubus.”

Sovereign

January 21, 2012

Minneapolis, Minnesota

They pulled into the grocery store parking lot following the little yellow Volkswagen beetle.
Is this really it?
Sovereign thought as they parked the car a few hundred feet behind the Volkswagen. They were both following another vehicle, a sedan, one that had just burned out of a Minneapolis neighborhood in a big hurry minutes earlier.