Darkness Falls: Reveler Series 1 (11 page)

“I’ve got my own epic problems,” Coll continued. “Crazy Maisie has tried to lose me twice. At least yours does what you say. Jordan could drown your ass just as easily as she did Blackman, but she doesn’t.”

He and Jordan had other issues. “Maybe if you took a less hardline approach.”

“Yeah, I know all about your kind of approach.”

The chemistry between him and Jordan hadn’t been deliberate, but he hadn’t fought it, either. “There are worse ways to fail.”

Coll gave a hard laugh. “I’ll take it under consideration. Maisie Lane is enjoying my pursuit way too much. Keep her sister safe, or I’m a dead man.”

When Rook ended the call, Jordan finally spoke. “Where are we going?”

“Your place, so you can pick up some things. Coll is taking care of Blackman. You’ve nothing to worry about there.”

If he didn’t wake up soon, Rook would go after him himself.

“Coll?”

Mistake. “The Chimera agent watching your sister. We use aliases while recruiting in case our mark decides against us, or worse, turns against us. Are you going to decide against Chimera?”

Because she now knew their real names. He really didn’t want to bring in a picker to remove them from her memory. He’d done so in the past, but the thought was foul when it came to her.

That silent, steely composure came over her again. No tears now.

He didn’t blame her for not answering. She’d known him all of thirty-six hours, and for most of that, she’d feared him. Probably still did.

But it would do neither him nor Chimera any good if she felt backed into a corner. He liked her too much to lie by omission, then try to kiss her later. He’d done that already with mixed results. Maybe the full truth was better.

“You do have other choices,” he said. “The private sector has a few good Rêve shops, all expanding beyond entertainment to commerce and communication. I’m sure someone like Vince Blackman would spend a lot to protect you and keep you happy. You’re a hot commodity.”

Her resume need only say
Darksight
and
drowning
.

Rook took the ramp onto the freeway. “In fact, he probably went to the
Envoi
to look for you specifically.”

“How could he possibly have known that I’d be there that night?”

Rook shrugged. “A couple of scenarios would account for it, your sister being the most likely connection. Rêve aptitude runs in families. It makes perfect sense that someone who might know of her activities would see whether she had a sibling and be ready when that sib was going to try Rêve.” He pushed a little harder, sure that Jordan would make the connection. “They may have even made a venue conveniently available.”

“That’s why I could simply charge a spot on the
Envoi
when there were thousands who wanted the same ticket. Who’d pay more.”

“Probably, yes. It was rigged. Helped that there was no Agora oversight as well.”

“Was Maze in on it, do you think?” The tone of her voice slipped upward with feeling.

Rook had seen the sisters together, and they were loyal, each different, but with a protective hold on the other. “No. I think she was just supposed to meet her contact.”

“But Vince knew.”

She missed nothing. “I don’t see how he couldn’t. He made straight for you. Doesn’t mean he’s a bad guy. He might just be expanding his business and had a previous acquaintance with you.”

“And you?” she asked. “What about you?”

“I was hunting for recruits, sure, but I didn’t know about you in particular. Struck fucking gold. My point is that Blackman or others might have a good Rêve shop. And a swimming pool, too.”

“Chimera doesn’t have a pool?”

Rook frowned. “No pool, sweetheart.”

They each lived on their own. Quietly, but independent of direct oversight.

“Does it have any amenities at all?”

If she wanted amenities—

He looked over because he couldn’t believe his ears, only to find she had that ironic smirk on her mouth. Dark humor he understood.

Jordan was joking. At a time like this, she could joke.

He’d thought he was being gallant by letting her know she had options, but that smirk sealed it. She was a Chimera, whether she wanted a goddamn pool or not.

***

Jordan remembered this feeling—the sense of her life breaking open and the tailspin of disorientation that came with sudden change. The first time it happened was when her mom died, and Jordan had had to change herself most dramatically of all.

Her home had been ripped away, but no matter how prominently it still figured in her dreams, she’d learned that a place wasn’t important. The people associated with it were.

Change had come again, except this time no one was hurt, and she was stronger.

Like a roller coaster just whipping around a hairpin turn, she had no choice but to hold on for the ride. She had every right to freak out, to start shrieking, but she also had the experience to conserve her energy for when she really needed it. For now, she’d do what everyone else did on roller coasters during the steady bits—laugh. The big drops would happen soon enough.

“Malcolm Rook.” Jordan rolled the sounds around her mouth.

“Yeah?”

“Just saying it. Catching up, so to speak.” She had a lot of catching up to do. Darksight? Drowning? She couldn’t begin to process what that would mean for her life, except…change.

“You’re not angry I used the alias.”

“Well, I had covered my binder with
Michael Reese
and little hearts, so Maze will probably make fun of me.”

He grinned, ears going pink. Tough, scary Mr. Rook was blushing. “Nobody ever covered a binder with my name,” he said. “I dropped out of school early. Ran away.”

After his brother died, he must have been crazy with guilt. Grieving, too. He still carried the nightmare with him wherever he went.

Jordan had almost given in to tears earlier when he’d told her what happened. Almost, but hadn’t. He hadn’t wanted her tears. But she was going to bawl for him at some point when she was alone and had a couple of hours for the swelling in her eyes to go down. She’d suck the threatening tears back into her skull until that time, but yeah, she’d bawl. She might even let Maze join her.

She could piece together Malcolm Rook’s story. The accident with his brother. Running away. The cold, hard life thereafter with drugs and Rêve. Then at some point, Mr. Conner—or Coll—had found him.

For that, Coll would get one break from her, one benefit of the doubt. Because of him, Malcolm Rook had turned out okay. Well, mostly. With any luck, maybe Mr. Coll could do the same for wild Maisie.

“I grew up early myself,” Jordan said. “My second year at art school, my mom fell asleep at the wheel, crashed, and died before she reached the hospital. Maze was sixteen, but the courts let me take care of her through high school.”

“You’re a good sister.”

Well… “Honestly, I’m scared to be alone. If I don’t take good care of her, I will be.” She would never take her family for granted again. Not for a second. “She’s okay, so everything else will be too.”

“Maisie Lane is more resourceful than you think,” Rook said. “Coll has a file.”

Did he now? “I don’t think I ever want to see it,” Jordan mused aloud.

Rook chuckled. “That’s probably for the best.”

They were a couple of blocks from her place, near the park, when Rook slowed.

Suddenly he tucked into a parking spot along the street, just down from her favorite Chinese place, and leaned his arms on the top of the steering wheel. “Do you think you could dunk someone else? Dunk, not drown? I’d do it myself, but he’s a bit out of my range. I have a feeling he’s not out of yours.”

“What’s going on?”

One of those steep roller-coaster drops was coming, Jordan knew it. She looked around to find the source of Rook’s concern, but only saw a guy with his dog, some action at the cleaners, a couple of teens skipping school. Normal traffic for midmorning.

“Word is officially out on you. Had to be your stunt with Blackman.” Rook jerked his chin toward the park. “There’s a Reveler up ahead, one I know. He usually hangs out in the Rêves in Vegas. I can think of only one reason why he’d be here, and that’s if Vince Blackman failed.”

“I don’t think—”

“They’re another of your options, actually. Lots of money. Of course, these guys are a little more ruthless in their approach. Dumped the body of one of my friends in the Scrape. Person never opened their eyes in the waking world again.”

The whoosh of the roller coaster’s drop had a voice screaming in her head. She, however, was surprisingly calm. “I like Chimera, thanks.”

“We can’t go forward without his spotting us. He’s obviously posted as a lookout, which means that there are probably others waiting at your apartment. I think he’ll recognize me if I get any closer. One way street—we can’t go back, unless it’s on foot.”

“Who do I dunk, again?”
Any idea how?

Rook leaned toward her, put an arm around her shoulders. “Relax your sight. Let your vision blur a little. Don’t
concentrate.”

Of course she was concentrating. No part of her was going to relax, especially with Rook leaning in like that, his breath on her neck, his scent—dark and sweet—swimming in her head. The temperature had hiked ten degrees with his nearness. He was totally distracting and at a very inconvenient time.

Nevertheless, up ahead, through passing cars and the corner of an obscuring building, she got the sense of a blurry person. It was as if he’d been drawn in charcoal and pastels, but the heel of the artist’s hand had accidentally smudged him.

Had to be that guy. “So I just dunk him?”

Beside her, Rook exhaled. “Lightly.”

Heart hammering, she mentally reached out—the smudged person came alert, stood—but before he could do anything, she pushed.

He collapsed backward, sucked out of sight. Fell out of the waking world.

Rook was already pulling into traffic, but once down the one-way street, he turned up the next block, doubling back to head away from her apartment building.

“Good job, sweetheart.”

She’d been trying to take today’s rapid shifts in stride. It was getting more difficult.

“Sorry we won’t be able to pick up your things,” Rook said. “But don’t worry. I’ve got you covered.”

Oh, so he was going to take her shopping?

“You have your pick of my T-shirts to sleep in.”

No such luck.

***

“Not even Coll knows where I live,” Rook told her as he unlocked the door with its peeling paint in the old factory. Worn, narrow stairs led up to the second floor.

Following him, she moved more slowly, pale, eyes wide, taking in where he lived. He knew he had beer in the fridge, but she looked like she could use a glass of orange juice or something. Low blood sugar.

“It’s not much.” He unlocked the door at the top of the stairs. “But it’s safe. No one will come here.”

His place made up the entire second floor. It was utilitarian at best, with airy, high ceilings, but zero renovation to make it cool or comfortable. He had basic furniture in scarred black leather. A good bed, though he fell asleep just as often in his desk chair.

It was only now, though, that he noticed the dust bunnies cartwheeling across the floor from the draft from the door. “I’m planning to fix it up.”

She was gingerly stepping over his free weights. “You work out a lot?”

“Things like strength, fitness, and general health transfer into Rêve if they’re true in real life. Most Chimera stay in decent shape so that they aren’t tempted to spend energy and concentration trying to look strong.”

“All the Rêve ads say you can be anything you want.” She was looking around, taking in the stained walls, the exposed pipes where the kitchen sink was, and the cheap-ass folding table that served as his counter.

He didn’t know how to live differently. He’d saved all his money, invested it, but he still hadn’t figured out what to spend it on. He didn’t know how to do to his place what she’d done to hers.

“A weak person will still flinch,” he said. “A scared person will lose the fight. You can’t face a serial killer while worrying if you’re tough enough.”

She threw him a weak smile. “Does that mean I have to start working out?”

“I could help you,” he said. “If you wanted.”

“Not scared I’d drown you?”

“Jordan, I know my way around Darkside. I’ve been deeper than most. You don’t scare me.”

“I scare me. What am I going to do now? Where do I go?”

He almost offered to let her crash here, but it was too raw for someone pretty like her. It reminded him of how different they were. “Coll will have loads of options. You can live a normal life, just carefully. You’ll need a good security system.”

She cast her gaze around again. “FYI, this isn’t a normal life.”

“Don’t use me as an example.” His place was a decade short of the kind of warehouses he’d crashed in on the streets. In fact, this was
exactly
the kind of building he’d lived in after running away from home. Eleven years, and he was in the same spot: alone, living cold, using Rêve to get away from his life.