Infinite Risk (27 page)

Selena tapped the side of her nose, and her smile gained layers, like an exquisite stained glass panel. “Something tells me this job will be
way
more interesting than I thought.”

 

A BURST OF BITTERSWEET

Over the next two weeks, I played hide-and-seek with the bag man, but Selena kept him at bay. I didn't imagine the monster would be content to stalk forever, so once a day, I shifted all the furniture to the wall and practiced the katas Raoul had taught me. I also applied myself to fitness with renewed dedication. Weirdly, my body didn't respond as well as it once did.

It was early March before I saw the Harbinger again. I'd gotten used to leaving school alone, so it was actually a surprise when I came out and found him waiting like he used to. Without meaning to, I hurried toward him, like I'd forgotten that he wasn't my boyfriend, a musician who went on a low-rent tour. But my eagerness colored his reaction, so when I cleared the parking lot and reached the streetlight where he waited, he caught me around the waist and whirled me, before catching me close. He smelled of lightning and cordite, as if he had been firing automatic weapons in a killer storm.

“What a lovely greeting. I take it you missed me?” His eyes held an amusement that managed to impart a sense of melancholy.

“Maybe,” I mumbled, feeling like an idiot.

“Do you have time for me tonight?”

“Yeah.” My plans were the same as they had been for the past two weeks—hang tight, work out, and hone my sword skills, just in case shit went horribly wrong. Maybe I was paranoid, but I couldn't shake the feeling that this was the calm before the storm.

“Are you staying at the flat?”

I nodded. “Moved in a week ago.”

“I'm glad you didn't tarry in that hovel out of misplaced pride. It could give you dysentery.” He seemed quite pleased.

But the feeling lingered that everything wasn't as it should be. A shadow or something settled over him, muting his aura. It wasn't like the time he'd spent most of his power liberating me from the Black Watch, so I couldn't decide what to call this intuition.

“It wasn't that bad,” I protested. “But the new place is definitely a lot better. Thanks.”

“Your appreciation is a panacea, dearling.”

The Harbinger scanned the street, and in reflex, I did the same. A couple of people loitering across the way dinged my warning bell, but I couldn't be sure if either one might be the bag man. But the thing would have to be insane to start something at 3:15 in the afternoon with teenagers everywhere and another immortal holding me like I was precious. Shyness wreathed me, and I shoved until he let me go.

“Such modesty,” he mocked.

“Let's go before you start a hormonal riot.”

Without answering, he took my hand. I expected him to whoosh us at the first opportunity, but he strolled to the bus stop and boarded when the big blue vehicle juddered to a stop. This was like Valentine's Day, only more ominous. The driver smiled when we passed, as I had been riding at this time regularly for a while now. Once we settled into an open seat, I surveyed the Harbinger from beneath my lashes. He was preoccupied enough that he didn't seem to notice my scrutiny.

Or so I thought, until he said, “Something on your mind?”

“It's weird you're on the bus again,” I admitted. “I didn't take you for a fan of public transit.”

“My way of prolonging the inevitable.”

“Excuse me?”

He sighed a little and turned my hand over to inspect my palm. Since I didn't believe in that, I pulled free. “Stop it. You're freaking me out.”

“Do you remember when I said we would have a serious conversation?”

“Obviously. It wasn't that long ago.”

“Are you certain? Seems an eternity to me.” With that weirdness, he fell silent and wouldn't say another word.

When he reached for my hand again, I laced our fingers together. A little shiver went through him, impossible to imagine it was because of me. There had to be a thousand other explanations, only I couldn't think of them with him looking so somber and sad. We didn't speak until we got to the apartment, and instead of bridging the serious subject, he checked out the minute changes I had made.

“Do you like it here?” he asked.

“You mean this place or this time?”

“Clever. Both, I suppose.”

“Yes and no.”

“The place but not the time? It's like extracting bone marrow to get you to confide anything.” For the first time, he sounded truly human, his words limned in frustration and some hidden darkness.

“Sorry. It's just … I'm used to hidings things because, with everyone else here, I'm keeping so many secrets.”

“But I'm not everyone else,” he said, as if that should be obvious.

“Right. Well, the studio is fine. And I'm happy to be forging a new future for Kian, but I can't say I
like
it here. This isn't my time, so I feel weird. Itchy.”

“Have you considered coming home? Set your watch. We can go back to right after you left. Your father won't have missed you yet.”

“Thanks to the simulacrum you left.” I considered that, but the scientist in me needed more information. “What happens if I do?”

He shrugged. “This world exists. Events will unfold with or without you.”

“Does that mean Kian could still die on his birthday?”

“You've altered that course, but that doesn't mean some other crisis couldn't arise later. Life doesn't come with certainties or guarantees. But I think you've done enough. So take my hand and let's go back.”

It was tempting. But if I went now, I'd never know for sure how things played out. “Not yet. Sometimes being here kind of hurts, actually. But … this is worth doing.”

“It hurts.” The Harbinger actually paled, and he closed his eyes for a few seconds, talking more to himself than me. “So it's begun already. Damn.” The mild curse contained anger sufficient to fuel a much stronger word.

“Can we have that vital convo already? All this mystery is getting on my nerves.” More to the point, anything that could affect him like this nearly froze me in place.

“Yes, it's time.”

I collapsed on the couch more than sat down, angling my body to face him. “Whatever it is, I can handle it.”

“At this point, dearling, in the simplest terms, the universe has taken note of you, and nature abhors a paradox. Remember what happened with my pet?”

Space-time parasite, check.
Despite my intention to be brave, I shuddered. “Yeah.”

“You don't belong in this timeline, and if you linger, you will be erased. The pain you mentioned is the start of that unbinding.”

“Like, I'm coming unglued at a molecular level?”

Wow, that's so much worse than I guessed.

He nodded, unable to hold my gaze. “You will simply … disperse, if you remain here long enough. And that's presuming one of the immortals gunning for you doesn't get you, or you don't have a terrible accident first.”

“You're saying the world itself will eventually start trying to kill me, not just Wedderburn and his ilk.”

“I've never known anyone to linger in the wrong time stream for so long, so I can't be sure. But all the data I've uncovered points to yes,” he said softly.

“That's where you've been. Researching this for me?”

“For all the good it does.”

“No, I'd always rather have all the facts.”

“That's why I'm asking you to stop now. You've done enough for atonement, given your beloved boy a second chance. It's time to go home.”

Anguish sank its teeth into me and wouldn't let go. “There's still three months left. Wedderburn could still hurt Kian, and who the hell knows what Dwyer will do if I renege on our deal? He might take it out on Kian.”

The Harbinger balled up a fist. “Will you erase yourself for him? That's what it will amount to in the end. There's only one way you can stay here safely.”

“How?” I demanded.

“Go to Boston. Find your younger self.” His smile became malevolent. “And then kill her. Two copies of the same person cannot exist in one world. If you eliminate her, then you can take her future for your own.”

My breath went in a pained rush. “
No
. Obviously I'm not doing that.”

“Then you will cease to be. Do you understand, Edith Kramer?”

“You just said you don't know how long the breakdown takes. It's possible that I can hold it together long enough and still go home.”

“Use your allegedly excellent brain,” he bit out. “It's been two months, and the pain is already starting. Based on that ratio and other factors, do you think you'll be fine in June?”

Empirical evidence suggested otherwise. “Probably not.”

“Why are you so reluctant to go home?”

I closed my eyes against fresh grief; I had been blocking it by focusing on Kian's situation. “What's waiting for me there? Kian's dead because of me. My mom's grave? Oh wait, maybe it's all the ghosts of the Blackbriar students who died because I made a stupid wish.”

“There, that's the truth. You don't want to go back to your old life.”

“Not really,” I muttered.

“You hoped traveling back could make everything untrue—that you could still be with Kian and see your mother again.”

“So what if I did?”

“Face reality. You must leave the boy to handle whatever fate has in store. There's no question that it will be different than what happened in your world, but perhaps he is simply marked for extremis.”

“I don't accept that.”

“And you're willing to sacrifice everything for him?” The Harbinger's disapproval could not be clearer if he red stamped my forehead. “Your father will grow old and die alone, wondering what happened to you.”

“The simulacrum…” I realized I didn't know much about the illusion I'd asked him to send to keep my dad company.

“Is fading even now. The energy will last until you go to college, then it simply disappears. So you never reach university, and he won't understand why you vanished. Between that and your mother's murder, your father's future looks bleak indeed.”

“You're just saying that to get me to stop,” I accused.

He rubbed a hand over his chest. “Didn't you once say I'm cruelest with the truth?”

Direct hit.
The devil's choice I feared before wasn't between Kian and the Harbinger but Kian's future and my own. Staying here might condemn my father to God knew what in my own timeline, but then I'd never have any peace, because it wasn't like I could look up what happened to this Kian on the Internet. Tears spilled over as I buried my face in my hands.

The Harbinger pulled me against him, and for long moments, I cried against his chest. He stroked my hair with a tenderness I wouldn't have believed possible. There was no heartbeat to comfort me, but somehow his proximity took the edge off. Eventually I shuddered into quiet, unable to decide what I should do. Abandoning my mission felt like quitting, but I didn't really want to dissolve, either.

I should go home and take care of my dad. My world sucks, but it's because of my failures. So maybe I should give up and live there.

But some small part of me wondered if my father would be happier without me. Time was supposed to heal all wounds, so maybe he'd fall into his work and eventually meet some scientist who would enjoy eating his healthy, bland food. Without me around to remind him of Mom, maybe he'd remarry and move on, even start another family.
Maybe I'd be the albatross around his neck, if I came back.
Before I jumped, he certainly acted like I was more of a bother than a bright spot.

“I can hear you thinking,” the Harbinger said. “It's so loud.”

“Since when?”

“When we killed the clown as one.”

“You didn't see fit to mention this to me before?”

“It would only have agitated you.”

“To say the least,” I mumbled.

He let me shift, but he didn't relax his hold on me. His aura washed over me in a muted tingle, soothing the phantom pain I'd gotten used to in the past weeks. I didn't even realize how uncomfortable I was until it stopped. My head rested on his shoulder, as exhaustion swamped me. If he wanted to treat me like an actual pet, I'd let him.

“This is the part of the talk I wanted to avoid,” he said.

“Why?”

“You see, dearling, I got impatient, so I skipped to the end. And I'm afraid I can't stay.”

“Huh?” I mustered the energy to sit away from him. Of all possibilities, I hadn't envisioned this one. The Harbinger had been my one constant, my protector and friend.

“Unless you surprise me. Unless you come home with me. The world you left has little to recommend it, but without you, it will be less.” He extended his hand in a symbolic gesture, but if I took it, we'd be gone before I could whisper
good-bye.

I pushed away from him and stood up. “I'm sorry. I can't. You might not understand, but I have to finish what I started. If I'm still in one piece in June, I'll go then.”

“If,” he repeated. “And so you choose his future over yours. This is precisely what I saw coming, but I hoped I could change your mind.”

“Because it ends badly?”

He showed me his teeth in an expression that couldn't rightly be dubbed a smile. “It always does, dearling. But even I must draw the line somewhere. I've watched so many people die. You can't ask me to witness your passing too.”

“I'm not,” I whispered.

“Your eyes are. But I'm not listening anymore. It's rarely been so disheartening to be right. You
did
break my heart.” There was no levity in his tone as he stared at me.