Equal Parts (29 page)

“Look at me, Felicity,” commanded a voice that sounded far-off. Fingers pinched my chin and forced my head up to meet two empty, ebony eyes. “Snap out of it. I need you here with me, understand?” When I failed to respond, his grip tightened. “Quit acting like a child and get
back
to me.”

Anger began to seep in through the numbness. I struggled against his hold. “I’m not acting like a child! How could you say that?”

“Prove it,” he growled, right up in my face. “Come on, prove me wrong. Or are you happy being weak, feeling sorry for yourself?”

Without warning, I shoved him backwards into the opposite wall. “Shut up!”

“Or what? You’ll cry on me?” I could sense something under his tone, under the irritation, but was too
far-gone
to interpret it.

Tears rapidly disappearing, I grabbed the knife still lodged in the doorway of his bedroom and launched myself at him, pressing it against his jugular. “You’re a
monster
! I thought you cared!” Rage fueled me now. No panic, no grief. Just anger.

His smile just infuriated me all the more. “You really think I’d bother giving tough love to someone I don’t care about?” Arching a brow when I paused, he added, “You know I don’t do TLC and pity. I’d much rather have you pressing a knife to my throat than have you inconsolably crying for the rest of the day.”

Slowly, wary of his blank stare, I lowered the blade. He was right – I was no longer on the brink of a breakdown. Just as he’d done the day I’d been transferred to his apartment, Achilles had saved me from myself.

“Thanks,” I grumbled, handing him the knife. He sheathed it in a strap on his back.

“Boss, car’s ready.” Hugo appeared at the top of the stairs, looking between Achilles and me rather cautiously.

“Brave the skeletons, darling,” said Achilles, holding out a hand. Ironic statement, given his face paint.

Wordlessly, we exited the house, climbed into the same massive car as last night, and took off towards the hospital.

By the time we got there, I was almost physically ill with worry. I told myself that if Finn’s tragedy was because of me, I would find a way to nullify my power for good. I would never use it again, not even in an emergency.

“Are you coming in with me?” I asked Achilles, though I knew the answer.

“Of course I am,” he said in a tone that suggested I was crazy for thinking otherwise.

Well, maybe I didn’t know the answer.

“What if you’re caught?” I followed him out of the truck, trailed by three thugs including Hugo.

He just laughed. “Darling, if I worried about that, I’d never step outside the house.”

There was something a little empowering about strolling into the hospital with Achilles, hard as it was to admit. The power he brought with him was intoxicating, like being punch-drunk. He was so confident in himself, in his ability to avoid capture, in his character.

As proof of that idea, as soon as we entered the hospital, people immediately scattered. I saw nurses duck behind desks, doctors retreat into offices, patients and visitors shrink back into the shadows. Would they have done so if it
were
Henry Westwood, not Achilles, standing there?

Definitely not.

“Don’t mind us,” chirped Achilles, hooking an arm around my shoulders. “Just checking up on a friend. Of course, anyone calls the police and we might stay a little longer.” He winked at a nurse who had pulled out her cell phone, and I immediately saw the difference between the public and private versions of Achilles.

We took the elevator up to the intensive care unit, bypassing more terrified staff and patrons on the way. It didn’t escape my notice that I garnered some overtly curious looks – I suppose having Achilles holding me as though we were best friends didn’t help my cause.

“We’re looking for Finnian Cole,” Achilles said to a nurse at the station, propping both elbows up on the desk.

“I won’t let you kill him,” she answered, spine straight and chin stuck out. I was impressed – the first person to stand up to Achilles, and she couldn’t be much older than me.

“Admire the spirit, lady, but unfortunately killing him isn’t on the agenda.” He jerked a thumb at me. “Agony Aunt here wants to make sure she didn’t inspire his near-offing.”

Her eyes met mine, and I saw the blatant confusion there:
why is
she
with
him?

“Just tell him,” I said with a slight sigh. “He’ll find it out anyway.”

Achilles grinned, the act completely wolfish. “She’s not lying.”

Frowning, the nurse addressed me, “Room three-oh-six. You realize you’re dating a monster, right?”

It was on the tip of my tongue to sheepishly say, ‘We’re not dating’. But screw it – I’d worked too hard to forge some kind of normal relationship with Achilles to back down at the first sign of disapproval. “Word of advice – don’t judge what you don’t understand.” I even put in a scowl for good measure before turning and stalking towards Finn’s room.

Achilles whistled as he kept pace with me. “You’re cute when you get all defensive.”

“Not what I was going for.” I entered Room 306 without knocking, noting with a slight pang that there were no guests in the suite. Just Finn, lying prone in a bed, both legs in casts and the rest of him heavily bandaged.

Achilles, to my surprise, hung back as I approached the bed, my hand immediately seeking Finn’s on the starchy bed cover. “Finn? Are you awake?”

His eyes blinked open at once.
Gray
– they were pure
gray
. When I’d first met him in the gazebo,
and then
at the party, they had been the brightest of blue. How had they changed color?

“Felicity,” he breathed, clutching my hand as if it was a lifeline. “Thank God. I thought you were dead.”

Well, not the greeting I’d expected, but a nice sentiment all the same. “Why would you think that?”

“He said he was coming for you,” he croaked, the grip on my hand tightening painfully. “He told me he was going to do … horrible things to you.”

“Who?”

Achilles stepped out of the shadows, drawing my hand away from Finn’s. “Maybe touching isn’t the best idea at the moment, darling,” he said to me quietly.

“Him!” cried Finn, to my bewilderment, and suddenly roared in pain as tendrils of smoke billowed from his skin.

“Finn, stop! What are you doing?” I went to call for the nurse, but Achilles stopped me.

“He’s trying to teleport,” he explained, eyes on the broken hero before us.

“Stay away from her, you son of a bitch,” snarled Finn at Achilles. “Make you feel better, does it? Seeing me like this?”

“Well, it was amusing at first, Finnian, but now you just look
ridiculous
. Why are you trying to get up? I doubt you’re in any condition to fight me.” The frown between Achilles’s brows told me he was considering something I had yet to realize.

“Finn, are you saying …
Achilles
did this to you?” I asked, looking between the pair. If it had been true, I would have expected a feral grin on Achilles’s part, or even a sly smirk. Instead, I got nothing but genuine confusion.

“I will kill you,” Finn told Achilles through gritted teeth, struggling against his bonds. “Do you hear me? As soon as I’m out of here, I will
end
you.”

“Charmed as I am, I still don’t follow. I didn’t do this to you – you did it to yourself, pal. Would you like me to fetch the psychiatric nurse? Maybe you’d feel better if you talked to someone about –”

“Felicity, get out of here!” yelled Finn, voice broken. “Whatever he’s told you to get you here, he’s lying! He
has
a superpower – his voice is a weapon!”

That
brought my panic and second doubts to a screeching halt. Even Achilles froze beside me.

“You
told
me to jump!” continued Finn when neither of us moved to speak. “Don’t act all freaking innocent, you cowardly bastard! At least have the guts to own up to your own actions – I’m sure you’re so proud of them.”

“Cool your jets,” tutted Achilles. “Rage doesn’t befit you. Start from the top – we’re a little pressed for time.”

“I think,” I said, shooting Achilles a dark look, “what Achilles means is, he couldn’t have done this to you. I’ve been with him for the last twelve hours.”

But I already knew what had happened. It was obvious by the stiff set of Achilles’s shoulders, the crease in his brow.

Molten.

“He – whoever it was – found me in the beer garden of a pub last night, gave this big speech about leveling the playing field and tarnishing my image. Told me an attempted suicide would speak more about the hopelessness of this city than anything else.” As if it pained him to remember, Finn’s eyes turned to the ceiling. “I tried to fight him, but as soon as he got hold of me, it was like I was under some kind of spell.”

“Let me guess – he told you to jump without teleporting at all.” Achilles’s voice was more deadpan than I’d ever heard it.

“You would know,” sneered Finn, smoke seeping out from the edges of the bandages once more. Pain filled his eyes, and immediately I lay a hand over his forehead, the instinct to care overriding my past fears of transferring my ability.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” I told him firmly
, moving my hand to his
.

He closed his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Felicity. For what I said at the Halloween party. It was completely out-of-line, and I’ve never … well, I was in a bad place. I know it’s no excuse. I’m sorry.”
I squeezed his hand in response. What else could I say? 
His eyes travelled between Achilles and I. “You’re with him now, aren’t you?”

As if he sensed I needed to face this myself, Achilles stepped back from the bed, pulling Hugo and the other thugs towards him for a hushed conversation.

“I’m sorry, Finn. It was a train wreck from the start.” I glanced back at the object of my affection. “He didn’t do this to you, though. You have to believe that.” I bent down and added in a whisper, “Truth be told, I think I’m making him soften up a bit.”

“Don’t make me finish what Molten started here to prove a point, woman,” growled Achilles, his hearing more superb than I’d guessed.

I rolled my eyes. Finn picked up on the reference though. “Molten?”

“Two-faced piece of shit that used to be my right hand man,” explained Achilles casually. “He’s impersonating me to get to Flick.”

“No, this is bigger than me,” I said. I knew it. Why would one man go to all this effort for my measly power? Especially if he could just order everyone to do his bidding anyway? It didn’t make sense. “He’s after something more.”

An expletive slipped from Achilles’s lips, his fingers running through his hair ceaselessly. I could guess why he was so unhinged by this – if Molten was imitating him, the manhunt for Achilles would amp up to terrifying proportions. Not only that, but by getting Finn to supposedly try and kill himself, it sent the message to Carova that even its best and fairest was haunted by demons.

The not-too-distant wail of police sirens broke the silence, forcing our time with Finn down to minutes. “He won’t come after you again,” Achilles told his nemesis. “The seed of futility’s been sown, now he’s just waiting to reap the benefits.”

“Which are?” asked Finn.

“When I find out, I’ll let you know.” Achilles intertwined his fingers with mine, tugging me towards the door.

“Hurt her and I’ll skin you myself,” called Finn after us as we disappeared into the hallway.

Achilles just
tsk
ed. “The way these people act, honestly – you’d think we were in some kind of danger.”

Chapter Nineteen

Realized Potential

By late the next afternoon, Achilles had come up with a plan so stupid, it was almost sure to work.

“You really don’t mind killing him?” I asked him, looking over his shoulder at the array of weaponry spread out on his desk in the den. Under normal circumstances, the sight would have made me slightly ill. But somehow, Achilles acting as a barrier between the weapons and myself was enough to keep the unease at bay.

“When it comes to threatening you, darling, I think we both know I don’t mind killing
anyone
. Is that romantic or what?” He strapped three knives to each of his ankles. “Do
you
mind me killing him?”

“Yes,” I answered honestly. “But I know he would kill you, if it came down to it, so it doesn’t bother me as much as it should. Does that make me a bad person?”

His finely-painted lips pressed a kiss to my forehead, his hand squeezing my nape. “No, darling. It makes you human.”

I couldn’t help it – I pulled him down for a proper kiss, uncaring for the paint and the assortment of weapons strapped to his person. As though he’d been waiting for me to make a move, his arms encircled my waist, dipping me back slightly as his mouth explored mine. He tasted of lemon and something uniquely Achilles, something addictive beyond words.