City Of Souls (37 page)

“Yes,” he said simply.

I shook my head. “So then
we
deal with him!” I looked around, but nobody would meet my eye. “All of us. Not Regan.”

“We just did. Jo—”

“No!” I was so tired of Warren speaking for the rest of us—there was no way everyone in the room felt like that! No way had kinship and brotherhood and the absolute
love
these people felt for Hunter been so suddenly replaced by indifference. Not in mere moments. Not just because Warren said so. “So we take a vote or something, right? Isn’t that what you were going to do when I first came in the troop?”

It was supposed to be a democratic gesture. Suddenly it felt more like a popularity contest.

Tekla finally stirred, her whisper full of grief. “That was different.”

“He knew better,” Warren added, like that made a difference. “He’s known from birth.”

Because unlike me, he’d been born and raised in a troop of superheroes, taught not to question his duty or his troop leader. He’d kept secrets from Warren too, but…

“Maybe he just made a mistake.”

It sounded hollow even to me. A mistake was something done once, not over again and again. He’d been meeting with Regan repeatedly, if not regularly. It was inexcusable, but I still wanted to find out
why
.

“Some mistakes are irreparable.”

I shook my head, staring at my troop leader. He sounded like a religious fanatic. One of the fundamentalists intent on spreading the Word to new places and people, and once the natives heard it, they had better heed it or burn. A year ago today I had been one of those natives.

So it wasn’t my fault, I thought, crossing to pick up Hunter’s whip, if things were getting a little hot in this kitchen.

From the corner of my eye I saw Tekla making her way to me, using the voice she reserved for her most troublesome pupils. “Archer, Warren is—”

She was going to tell me Warren was right. She was going to tell me to drop the conduit, fall into ranks, and do as I was told. But that was before I turned the whip on her.

“Get back, bitch.”

Vanessa gasped. “Joanna!”

Now the troop came to life, and that pissed me off even more. They’d stir for Tekla, but not for Hunter? Was this how easily a valued member of the troop could be thrust on the outside? How much easier, then, would they do the same to me? The bad pupil, I thought, feeling Tekla’s considering gaze. The wild native, I decided, catching Warren’s.

My anger began simmering. I might not have had Tekla’s control or Warren’s ruthlessness, Shen may have taken my ability to heal, and I’d had to give over my ability to construct walls from thin air to Boyd on my last escape from Midheaven…but I still had my temper.

My father’s temper.

“One step toward me, one wall set up to box me in…” I looked pointedly at Tekla. “...one move to stop me, and I’ll let it go. My eyes will burn so red they’ll serve as a beacon for the Tulpa. He’ll dive-bomb your new hidey-hole. He’ll flatten us all.”

“Think about what you’re doing, Joanna.” Tekla’s gaze was ice cold in comparison to my heated one.

Gregor, then, a man who’d never been anything but kind to me. “Don’t betray us too.”

“I’m not. But we’re stronger with him.” I turned back to Warren. “You know it.”

Warren’s jaw clenched and he swallowed hard, but he remained unmoved. I shook my head and started to back up, just as Regan had minutes earlier.

Vanessa, perhaps closer to me than anyone there, tried, her voice imploring. “Joanna, please—”

“No, let her go.” Warren crossed his arms and leaned against a stainless steel rack. I wasn’t fooled. The last thing he felt with his beloved Kairos walking out the door was in control. His tight smile kept me from feeling remotely bad about it. “But we won’t help. We won’t risk ourselves by going after him.”

“Some friends,” I spat, looking at each of them in turn. Felix was cross-legged on the floor, almost in a ball, and his fists were clenched so tight his knuckles were white. Good. I hoped his inaction sliced like a knife. Riddick had his eyes closed, head back, like he was thinking of pounding it through concrete—I hoped that hurt too—and though Micah had returned to his position up against the wall, he and Gregor were shooting uncertain glances at each other behind Warren’s back. I shook my head. Hunter hurt me too, but outrage on his behalf momentarily helped keep that at bay. If there was one thing I knew, it was how to prioritize.

But so did Warren. He tried again. “He betrayed
you
.”

Because Hunter had taken me to his bed, in his arms, while meeting with Regan. Knowing how I felt about her, I thought. Knowing she’d do anything to get to me. But it was the magnitude of those offenses that made me want to know why. “Well, I’m not going to lower myself by doing the same.”

I felt something close to hatred then; not for Hunter, but for Warren. Because he
could
just wash his hands of Hunter, even after he’d dutifully served this troop for so many years. Hunter was still that same person, and he was out there, still alive…though not destined to stay that way for long. I sneered at Warren. I scoffed at them all.

“Stay safe,
heroes
.” I looked pointedly at each of them, and found that none of them were willing to meet my eye. “Enjoy the fucking cake.”

Doubts crept in once I was out on the apocalyptic streets with the strange hovering sky and eerie silence, with the Shadows lurking and my troop in hiding. I even had the urge to turn around a couple of times, but images of Hunter kept flashing through my mind: the whip that I was holding licking air as he battled the Shadows, his eyes going soft as caramel as he moved inside of me. Betrayed me? Okay, yes. He’d done that. But betray the rest of the troop? His family? It just didn’t hold.

I wasn’t far behind. Though she had a head start, Regan was weighted down with injury, Hunter, and the need for stealth. I had only the third issue to worry over, and that was nothing new. So I followed the scent of blood—both old and new; tainted and fresh, fouled and that of the recently ruined hope—and thought, Oh, Hunter. What have you done?

Grieve later, I told myself, and headed into the core of the city.

I wasn’t surprised when the trail led to the nearest pipeline entrance. I hadn’t been in this one before, but it didn’t matter. All roads led home. It didn’t take a genius to figure out where Regan was headed. She was going to the entrance to Midheaven. It was symbolic, since he’d apparently engaged her in order use her soul energy for access. It was mean and meant especially for me.

I picked up my pace inside the tunnel’s depths. I could now move unseen, and I counted on Hunter to make enough noise so I was also unheard. The first tunnel emptied into a ninety-degree turn, but I stopped keeping track after that. The turns and whorls it took were impossible, part of a magic system rather than any clever planning on the city’s part. After the first few, which I navigated by touch, the air became stifling, and the blood I’d smelled earlier intensified.

Just as I was wondering how much farther this particular rabbit hole went, I heard Regan’s voice. It was closer than I expected, and I froze.

“They won’t come after you,” I heard her say, and a sharp
thwack!
told me she had just slapped his face. What was it with these Shadow women and face slapping? Did they take classes in it or something?

“I know.” His flat, annoyed response told me it wasn’t the first time he’d been hit. It was probably how she’d brought him back around. It was hard to carry someone heavier than yourself while trudging through a damp tunnel.

“Great, so be a good boy and leap onto that ledge. I’ll tear off a huge chunk of flesh if I try throwing you, and it takes forever for that shit to grow back.”

Eww
. A part of Regan’s personal hygiene routine that I really didn’t need to know about.

“Nah,” Hunter replied, and I could practically see the shoulder shrug that went with it. “Go ahead and kill me here.”

“No. I want your kill spot to shine forever just outside Midheaven’s entrance.” By killing Hunter at the entrance to Midheaven, anyone who tried to access that world in the future would scent the olfactory chalk outline that was his kill spot, basically paranormal graffiti that said,
Regan was here.

“I know,” he said in a way that meant he wasn’t budging.

She hesitated, thinking. “You know there are lots of ways to seriously injure you before killing you, and believe me, I’m familiar with most of them. This crossbow makes a particularly effective edged weapon.”

“Try burying it just beneath his Adam’s apple,” I said, and sent a thought pulse to bring my glyph to full blast. “That’s always been my favorite.”

Both Hunter and Regan cringed, eyes closed. “Uh-uh-uh,” I said when she swung my conduit my way. “You’d better watch where you point that.”

She notched an iron bolt.

“You can’t kill me, remember? The Tulpa wants me alive.”

“No, but I can kill your boyfriend here.” She pointed the bow exactly where I’d told her. Hunter gave me a dead stare. I grimaced apologetically. “Oops. I mean,
ex
.”

“Geez, my memory must be bad.” I put one hand on my hip, the other behind my back. “Regan, weren’t you supposed to bring me to the Tulpa at the first given chance?”

Hunter made a warning sound, knowing I was baiting her. “Jo—”

We both ignored him, though Regan kept my conduit trained on his throat. Kill spot or not, she’d murder him there if she had to. He stilled again.

“So what if I tell Daddy Dearest that you traded me for Hunter? That, once again, you put your desires above your leader’s?” I shook my head and heaved a sigh. “Then you’ll never heal. You’ll never be reinstated into the troop. You certainly won’t ever sit at his right hand side…not unless it’s as a knickknack on his side table.”

“And what?
You’re
going to tell him? Hunter is? Like I’ll let either of you out of this tunnel.” She laughed, but even in the empty tunnels it rang more hollowly than it should have. I smiled.

“He’ll be happy to come to me. All I have to do is let the fury I’m feeling unfurl like a giant red banner. It’s actually quite easy. Probably because it’s so close to the surface.”

She weighed her options, notching the arrow a little tighter in Hunter’s throat, just to feel in control. “You’re going to do that anyway.”

I lifted one shoulder. “Not necessarily. Not if we can strike a deal.”

“No,” Hunter said, as I knew he would, drawing Regan’s attention. “No more deals.”

“Let the woman talk,” she told him, before turning back to me. “What kind of deal? Your life for his?”

“Actually, I had something else in mind.” And I pulled Hunter’s whip from behind my back. Lashing like a rattler’s tongue, I wrapped it around my conduit. Hunter—feeling the same attraction for his conduit that I felt for mine—ducked so the barbs nearest his face licked air. Regan misfired, and I jerked my crossbow from her palm.

But she didn’t let go. She stumbled forward, instinct telling her release meant death, so I simultaneously pulled and delivered a front kick to her chest. My boot sank clear into its center, splitting ribs and separating muscle, and threatened to lodge there. I’m ashamed to say I squealed, but I’d have defied even Hunter to plow through someone else’s chest without a groan.

“Yuck,” he said now. I couldn’t agree more.

“So here’s the deal I was thinking of,” I said once my foot was free. I was breathing hard, kinda grossed out, but I didn’t miss a beat. Too bad Regan couldn’t say the same. She was sprawled on the concrete floor, bloodied and stinkier than ever, and alternating squeals of pain with gulps of breath. I’d displaced her heart, which had to be unbelievably painful…especially when you couldn’t die that way. Now via conduit was another matter, I thought, flipping mine around in my hand to point at her, and throwing Hunter his whip. “How about your soul in exchange for his passage into Midheaven? But wait—there’s more! You get absolutely nothing out of it except more excruciating pain. Do we have a deal?”

“Fuck no, you—”

“Shh…I wasn’t asking your permission.” I shot Hunter a tentative smile, but he was standing flat-footed, arms at his sides, like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing, that I’d come for him after what he’d done and what I now knew. I swallowed hard and shrugged. “Come on, let’s hoist her up. I have a feeling we won’t be alone for long.”

He hesitated, but bent after another moment to grab an arm and a leg. Well, what else was he going to do? He was a rogue agent now. He had nowhere else to go. Plus, Midheaven was obviously where he wanted to be.

“You think the Tulpa’s really coming?” he said.

“Nah, I didn’t work up my mad yet. Besides, he’s captured Skamar.” Hunter looked surprised. That even caught Regan’s attention. I privately marveled at how natural it was to be working together, talking together, over the body of the one he’d betrayed me for. “I have a feeling he’ll be busy for a while.”

I didn’t even want to know what kind of madness one tulpa could inflict on another.

“Warren, then.” Hunter grimaced, and the niggling I’d felt in the kitchen was back. I was still angrier with Warren than Hunter, but he shouldn’t get
too
comfortable.

“Of course.” We both knew Warren wasn’t going to just let me walk away. I was, after all, his precious Kairos.

We got Regan up on the ledge, then stood, staring at each other. Conscious of her eyes on us, I put my boot over her face. I resisted the urge to stomp, but only because we needed her breath.

“So,” I finally said. “In return for what?”

“I didn’t betray you, Jo. This,” he said, motioning to Regan down at our feet, “this had nothing to do with you.”

But it should have. Because we were lovers. Because I trusted you
. That should have played into whether he teamed up with the trash we were standing on now. I let my silence speak for me. Hunter rubbed a hand over his face.

“This is so stupid,” Regan muttered, knowing she was finished anyway.

“Shut. Up.”

“Lovers are retarded.”

I kicked her in the head.