Public Enemies (17 page)

“Heh.” I flashed it at her, loving the fact that we had an in-joke.

Once she explained the reasoning for it, everyone else did a quick shirt-flip so we could all be sure there were no immortals masquerading among us. Jen and Davina both stared a little too long at Kian's golden six-pack, seeming unwilling to swap that for Raoul's hairier belly. Aaron was very pale and thin, but he'd definitely been born to a human mother. I relaxed a little, though the need to rescue my dad pulsed like a sore tooth.

“You can't stay in that apartment on your own,” Raoul said quietly.

“Why not?” The protest was instinctive, but truthfully, I didn't want to. Nor was I eager to crash on Kian's couch. I wasn't ready to flipping live with my boyfriend.

Kian sighed as if the answer should be obvious. “It's too dangerous.”

My lips went flat against the urge to tell him I could probably kick his ass in stand-up fight, unless he had a secret black belt he never mentioned.

Raoul warned me with his eyes not to open that can of trouble today. Sighing, I said, “Then what do you propose?”

Jen said, “My room is huge. I'm sure you could stay with us. My mom's very cool about stuff like that. If I tell her your father is traveling on the lecture circuit, she wouldn't want you home alone.”

I hesitated. This time it wasn't because I didn't think that could work or that I was worried about her safety—she was already in pretty deep—but I recalled what Allison said. Basically even if Jen was human, I wasn't fully sure where her allegiance lay.
Who do you trust more, Jen or Allison? Who would definitely lie to cause trouble?

She saw my hesitation and her face fell. “If you don't want to, it's cool. We don't know each other that well and all of that shit went down last year…”

“No, I was just considering logistics, wondering if your mom would impose a curfew or hinder my search for my dad. Will she want to talk to my dad?”

Jen's widening eyes said she hadn't considered any of that. “Shit. I don't know.”

“Are you sure about this? It might not be safe having me around.” I felt like I had to remind her of that. Guilt about her failure to stop my humiliation last year shouldn't push her to endanger her parents.

“Uhm…”

I let her off the hook. “Don't worry about it. Having me around is high risk, basically an invitation to screw up your life.”

Jen bit her lip, dropping her gaze to the floor. “Sorry. I really do want to help.”

“It's enough that you joined the search party.”

“I can stay with you,” Raoul offered.

“In my dad's room?” Though misgiving flickered through me, Raoul could definitely protect himself. He was training
me,
for God's sake. And it would make me feel better if he was around. It wasn't like I was using him to replace my father, either.

“Okay,” I said.

Kian was frowning. “Is that safe? There are eyes on Edie all the time and if word gets back to Wedderburn—”

“It won't end well for me, I know. But I'm already living on borrowed time, am I not?” Raoul gave a weary smile, as if he was sick of the cloak-and-dagger bullshit.

“Just be careful, okay?” Kian clapped Raoul on the shoulder, a bracing gesture when his eyes were saying all kinds of crazy worried stuff.

When an imperious knock sounded, we froze. I gauged the windows, wondering if Raoul could slip out that way if need be. Jen answered the door hesitantly and I don't think anyone was more astonished than me to find Allison Vega standing there in her cheerleading uniform. She swept past Jen and Davina in a cloud of mango-fruity-smelling perfume.

Allison seemed to take stock of our war council and sighed, tipping her head back to stare at the ceiling. “This is the lamest thing ever. How did any of you survive before I got here?”

“I don't know what you're doing here,” I snapped back.

“Saving your ass apparently. Word is, you pissed off your protector and are fair game.”

“He can't do that,” Kian snarled.

“Calm your tits.” Allison sat down without being invited and crossed her legs daintily. “I'm sure you've told them about me by now?”

“I have questions,” Raoul interjected.

She gave the older man a long look, one I'd ordinarily qualify as challenging or defiant, but there was a curiosity too. I didn't know what to make of that silent exchange but she was smiling when he looked away. Raoul rubbed his fingers over his forearms; it freaked me out to see that Allison was capable of unnerving him. In the short time I'd known him, he was always so calm and purposeful.

“You're not young at all,” Aaron said unexpectedly. “You … are a very old thing.”

“Out of the mouths of babes. Shall I speak in ancient Sanskrit? Nah, no point. Nobody remembers the old tongue.” Allison rapped her knuckles on the table. “I've just called this crap to order, so settle down.”

I was curious enough about her intentions that I perched on the edge of the sofa and Kian joined me, quietly linking our fingers. Jen and Davina sat at the dining table with Allison and Aaron while Raoul opted to stand near the door. That was probably smart if she was setting us up; her plan might be to stall long enough for reinforcements to get here. Deep down I hoped she was on the level because I needed all the help I could get. Even from people I hated.

Fortunately Davina had no problem being attitudinal with Allison, regardless of what she was. “State your business then, bitch. You're no friend of mine.”

“Don't be bitter. Aren't you more confident about your abilities because of how hard you worked trying to make the squad?”

Davina lunged at her, only to be restrained by Jen. “I thought you hated me because you're new money and I'm no money, but that's not it, is it?”

Allison grinned. “It was fun to crush your dreams, little girl. They were so fragile.”

For a few seconds, the rest of us might not have even been in the room as Davina seethed. “Did you have anything to do with what happened to Russ?”

The girl-looking thing hesitated, appearing uncertain for the first time since she'd swept in here, ostensibly to do me a favor. “I knew something was feeding on him. I had no idea there was a kill order pending. I don't pay that much attention to politics.”

Raoul had been listening with careful attention, likely assessing Allison as a potential asset. “Exactly where do your kind fit into the game?”

“I have no horse in this race, if that's what you're implying.” Her lip pulled back in a half snarl that sent shivers over me even as her face seemed to waver for a few seconds, as if she could look like something else entirely.

“Let's hear her out,” I said.

Question and answer could wait until we heard what she'd come to say. Allison nodded at me, either in thanks or agreement. Then she spoke. “You definitely shouldn't trust me. But until further notice, I'm on your side. I've always had a soft spot for the underdog and it's clear you have a hell of a fight on your hands.”

“What do you bring to the table?” Kian asked.

“Contacts, mostly. I understand your dad's gone missing?” She didn't use the word
kidnapping
, which I appreciated.

I nodded, then described the thing that took him. Allison's mouth twisted as she listened. It was hard not to shake her and demand info but Kian's hand on mine kept me calm. I noticed Jen and Davina trading holy-shit looks. I appreciated them not asking if I was high when all this went down.

“Do you recognize it?” Raoul asked.

Allison shook her head. “But there are tons of awful uglies prowling the dark shadows. People are always buying into some new horror. With humanity's penchant for grimdark, it's a wonder any of you are still around.” Then she stood up. “There's no need for me to hang around. I'll put the word out on your dad, and I have your number, Edie. I'll text if I hear something.”

Two words I never expected to say came out then. “Thanks, Allison.”

She smirked and brushed past Jen and Davina, lingering long enough to make Raoul uncomfortable. Everyone was tense until the door shut behind her.

Aaron actually shivered. “I don't like her. She smells sour.”

“Try being on the same squad with her,” Davina muttered.

“It's disturbing that she chooses to hang around a high school,” Raoul observed.

I suspected that was because it was a great place to start drama, lots of negative energy to eat on a daily basis. But we were allies, at least for now; there was no point in speculating. I just had to believe she meant it when she said she'd help me find my dad. Of course, maybe that offered the most potential for a splatterfest and she'd be on the sidelines soaking it in.

Pushing to my feet, I said, “Let's not worry about it now. Raoul, are you ready to go?”

He picked up my backpack as I slipped into my borrowed shoes. I was about to leave Kian's place, over his vociferous protests, when someone knocked on the door. Nobody seemed to have any clue, though I guessed maybe Allison forgot to tell us something. To my astonishment, when Kian answered, Rochelle stood on the other side.

She radiated urgency when she beckoned. “There's not much time. The Harbinger's looking for you, and he's in no mood to talk. I tried my best to convince him otherwise but he's decided the only way to save you is to—”

“Make me his pet,” I finished.

Rochelle inclined her head somberly. “You have other options, Edie. But there's darkness down every path. Do you trust me to teach you how to unlock the power you need to survive?”

No,
I thought.

But I followed her anyway.

 

DEAD BOYS DO NOT MAKE GOOD PETS

“Are you crazy?” Jen asked, running after us.

“You just
met
this woman.” Davina seemed to agree with Jen.

“I have to take help when I find it. You get how messed up everything is, right?”

They didn't respond, so I took that silence as a yes.

Raoul wore a speculative look, as we paused in the hallway outside Kian's apartment. I didn't care what anyone else thought. If she could teach me something that would give me a leg up in the game, then I was on board. I handed him my keys.

“Here. You can move your stuff in. I'll be back later.” Unless this was a calamitous misjudgment. I was willing to take the risk.

Aaron stood in the doorway with a lost look. “If it's okay, I'll stay here.”

“No worries,” Kian said.

“Do you plan to accompany us?” Rochelle asked.

He stilled, a dangerous glint in his green eyes. “Is that a problem?”

“Not for me.”

Kian relaxed and took my hand. “Then let's get going.”

We went our separate ways outside with me promising to text Jen and Davina as soon as I got a new phone. Actually, money might become an issue.
No, I'll get my dad back before I have to worry about rent or the electric bill.
It was hard to stay positive, but if I let it, reality could truss me up and leave me helpless.

Rochelle took us to Jamaica Plain on the orange line, where we got off at Green Street Station. She went west from there, winding through avenues unfamiliar to me. This area was full of small, quirky shops and cafés, and the population was diverse. I followed her through multiple turns until we came to a narrow street where all the buildings were constructed using the same red brick, giving it a peculiar, uniform air. She stopped in front of what looked like a consignment shop of some kind. The dusty front window was full of interesting oddments: a mannequin half tied into an old corset, a wig of long black ringlets, two music boxes, one of which was open to show the tiny ballerina spinning in endless circles, along with a broken fan, and two dingy satin shoes. There were no store hours posted and the faded sign above the shop read
FORGOTTEN TREASURES. BY APPOINTMENT ONLY.

“It looks abandoned,” Kian said.

“Looks can be deceiving.” Rochelle got out a heavy key ring and fiddled until she found the right one, an enormous iron thing with sharp teeth. “Here we are.”

The shop sighed when she popped the door open, emitting a gust scented with dried lilac and dust. Hesitantly I stepped over the threshold behind her, wanting to believe she hadn't lured me here to turn me over to the Harbinger or worse, Dwyer & Fell. Tinnitus flared sharply and I spun in a shaky circle, looking for the source.

“It's the artifacts,” she said kindly. “Think of it as a feedback loop.”

“Wait, so everything in here—”

“Is charged, so to speak. I've been collecting cursed and haunted objects for centuries. It started as a hobby, but then I realized how much harm I was preventing, just by keeping the wretched things away from people.”

“Yet here we are,” Kian observed.

Rochelle switched on a lamp with a fringed shade that threw rosy light over the jumbled premises. “Don't touch anything. Some of them are probably quite hungry by now.”

I threaded through the narrow gap between a sheet-draped harpsichord and a grimy leather chesterfield with carved legs. On closer examination, there was a deep, dark stain on the seat. “Noted.”

A shiver rolled through me. I'd just gotten used to the idea of monsters; now I had to adapt to the possibility that household items could be possessed and might try to kill me. But there was no doubt there were unfriendly forces in this room. Rochelle seemed mindful of this as she picked a path toward the back counter. I made sure to stick to her route and not brush against anything. Kian copied me, staying close, as Rochelle emptied a box atop the counter. She showed no fear in sorting the objects but she had the power to protect herself.

“This.” With a flourish, she showed me a square compact, Art Nouveau style, either pewter or badly tarnished silver. Rochelle snapped it open to reveal a cloudy mirror; the other side had space to affix a photo.