The Wicked City (29 page)

“What’s going on?” June tried to lift her head, but the strain on her chest hurt too much. “Did they close the Institute down? Have they been exposed?”

Micha gently touched her shoulder. “You need to relax. Your lung capacity is diminished. You have to stay calm.”

June took his non-answer as a “no.”

“What did you do to those guards?” Sam asked her. “They looked like they were stabbed in all their orifices with an ice pick. Did you have an ice pick on you?”

June swallowed. “Siren Song,” she whispered.

Aaron appeared at her bedside, dressed in a pair of black pants and a white dress shirt tucked in and the sleeves rolled up. The light made his face smoother and younger, and he looked even more like Muse.

“I’ll call the doctor,” Aaron said. “If you need your morphine upped, just let me know.”

“I would love my morphine upped. What the hell is going on?”

Aaron reached up to June’s IV bag. “You’ve missed a lot, but you don’t need to get worked up about it right now.”

Someone else appeared at June’s bedside—Muse, dressed all in white, of course. Her family had a thing for white. Before June could greet her, she bent over and planted a firm kiss on June’s lips.

June gave her a half-smile when she stood back up. “I’m gonna let that one go, because I like you. We don’t want Cindy to start a rumor.”

“You’re a hero.” Muse smiled widely, the corner of her mouth jerking. “Thank you.”

“You’re a hero,” June said. “The way you kicked Robbie’s ass at that press conference. Is he alive? Does anyone know?”

“We don’t know,” Sam said grimly. “The police have raided his house, my sources tell me. He was amassing a library on the history of the paranormal, but they found a bunch of other stuff, too. Books on weapons and ways to kill people, stuff about serial killers and paranormal violence. Enough for the FBI to jizz over for years.”

“Crazy bastard.” June winced, fighting down the urge to cough.

“He’s got his own little faction,” Sam said. “I realized it as soon as he started talking about being responsible for all the violence. He can’t be doing it all on his own. Problem is, I can’t flush out his helpers right now, not while we’re in hiding.”

“We’re in hiding?” June asked.

“We assassinated the head of the Institute,” Aaron said.

He had clearly honored June’s wish for morphine, because a sudden rush of euphoria spread through her limbs.

“Outside of our groups,” Aaron said, “most people in this city—activists, the rest of the paranormal, the normals—think the Institute is a legit facility. We’re not exactly heroes.”

June didn’t understand. Her body quickly became heavy, and yet she seemed to float at the same time. “What about the story?” she asked Sam. “Didn’t Ethan run the story about the serum?”

Sam shifted his jaw. “He tried. He wrote it. He sent it to press. The head of his department pulled it and fired him.”

“What!” June instantly regretted raising her voice. She gritted her teeth in pain.

“Let’s not talk about this right now.” Micha pressed a hand to June’s forehead and eased her back down. “She’s not ready for any strain.”

“You have documentation.” June was still stiffening against the pain. “And Micha is the proof. Can’t you go to the police or some board that governs medical ethics? Isn’t there someone you can tell?”

“We need an entity more powerful than either of those,” Aaron said. “And until we find one, we have to stay under the radar.”

“One good thing,” Sam said. “Neither of our organizations believe we’re cold-blooded killers. They’re raising a lot of hell on our behalf.”

“The police are unsure about you and Jason,” Aaron said. “No one knows if you were involved, taken hostage by us, or killed.”

“How awesome,” June said.

June tried to relax, if for no other reason than she wanted to stop being in agony. Micha shooed everyone off. Sam stayed and leaned against the side of the bed.

“You’re a force to be reckoned with,” he said to June. “I knew you were powerful.”

“I hear that’s not a good thing.” She looked up at him. “Muse told me why you helped me.”

Sam arched an eyebrow. “Did she now?”

“I’m not a good poster girl, Sam. Unless, you know, someone wants a tattoo. Or a good wine recommendation.”

Sam smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “I think there’s more to you than you give yourself credit for.”

“Sam, I know I owe you…”

“Let’s not talk about it right now.” He patted her arm. “However, how would you feel about joining the Paranormal Alliance?”

“Sam,” Micha said, warning in his voice.

“Just striking while the iron’s hot.”

June smacked her lips. Her mouth tasted metallic from the morphine. “I don’t wanna join any groups.” She squinted up at Sam. “I think I’ll stay freelance for a while. Sam Haain and June Coffin? That’s too many kitschy names for one organization.”

Sam chuckled. “My name is Samuel, I’m afraid. Samuel Marcus Haain. Not quite as fear-inspiring as the Celtic god of death. Unless you think all Arab people are terrorists. My father is half. Thus the last name.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“His father came from Israel, but he married an American woman here. And my father married an American woman, so I’m quite a bit diluted. Still, you know how Americans feel about anything not pure white. Especially anything from that part of the world these days.”

June pointed lazily at him, starting to get loopy. “Knew you had something a little exotic in you.”

“And I knew you were pierced in other places. We had to take your clothes off.”

“Sam,” Micha said again.

A doctor arrived a short time later, tall, thin, somber-faced, and carrying a black bag. Like something out of the fifties. He checked the bandage on June’s side and listened to her chest.

“Your lung is staying inflated,” he said. “That’s good news. And your sutures are holding. It was a clean shot, so you only needed a couple stitches after I took the chest tube out.” He walked around the bed and checked the IV bag.

June was floating in a morphine haze. She felt a thump on the side of the bed. A brown and black fur ball trundled up the mattress.

“Dipster.” She smiled.

“You do have a bullet in your chest cavity, though,” the doctor said. “I don’t have the equipment to do extraction in the field, and I don’t think it’s prudent anyway.” He finished with the IV bag. “Don’t panic, though. Contrary to what you see on television, most gunshot victims never have their bullets taken out. It’s actually more dangerous to remove a bullet than it is to leave it in. You’ll just be setting off metal detectors.” He swept June’s face with a critical gaze. “More than usual, I mean.”

“Actually… Oh, never mind.” She reached down to pet Dipity.

“And,” the doctor said, “you’re very lucky, Ms. Coffin. Lucky, ironically, that you almost died. You quit breathing for a short time, which actually saved your life. It stopped your injured lung from moving, which gave your blood time to clot and kept you from bleeding to death. I had to give you a small transfusion, but it would have been much worse had you been struggling to breathe and pumping blood out in the process.”

Dipity rubbed against June’s hand, eyes narrowed. “Is that so?”

“The bad news is your lung is going to take a little longer to heal than normal. I would suggest now is a good time to quit smoking.”

“Crazy enough, Doc, I don’t feel like a cigarette at all right now.”

When the doctor left, June looked at Micha, still sitting at her bedside. “Her fur’s all crusty and matted from my blood. Will you clean her up?”

“Yes. I’ll make sure she gets a good grooming.” He knitted his brow. “Where did she come from anyway, in the car?”

“She was in the duffel bag.” June smiled at the cat. “The one Sam gave me. Turned out to be quite useful after all.” June continued petting her. “Everyone really thinks we’re the bad guys?”

Micha nodded, his face somber. He was definitely pale and had dark circles under his eyes. “We’re safe here, though. It’s Aaron’s building. Just like the hotel is Sam’s. I don’t think they legally own either one, but they do ‘own’ them, in a sense.”

“Is that part of the treaty thing? What’s that all about, anyway? This ‘territory’ stuff?”

Micha scratched behind Dipity’s ears. “When Aaron and Sam drew up the treaty between the Paranormal Alliance and the SNC, they made certain places their territory. Not the entire city, just a few spots. Members of the opposing group can’t go on officially claimed territory without a concession, or else the owning group has a right to ‘punish at their discretion.’ There are neutral places, too, where members of both groups aren’t allowed to inflict ‘hardship’ on each other. Sam is on the Parks and Recreation Board for the city, so he was given Promontory Point and a couple other parks as his territory.”

June’s astonishment increased. “Wait, what about Navy Pier? He said that was his too.”

“He also has a seat on the Metropolitan Pier and Exposition Authority, which owns Navy Pier.”

“I had no idea he was that powerful.”

“Strong-arming and affirmative action might have had a little to do with it.” Micha petted Dipity, the cat eating up the attention. “That’s why people take such umbrage to him being the leader of an anti-Institute, anti-normal group, because he’s so prolific outside the paranormal community. And that’s why so much hell is about to be loosed at the idea of him ‘assassinating’ Eric Greerson.” He paused. “A war is coming. I’ve expected and feared it for a long time.”

June slid her hand over Micha’s on Dipity’s back. “You’ll survive it.”

“I’ve been fucked up. I don’t know what’s happened to me or what’s going to happen to me. I can’t promise you anything.”

June squeezed his hand. “Well then, it’s a good thing I like surprises.”

When evening fell, June got another visitor. The pain medication had made her subdued and all her worry dulled in the fog. But when Jason sat down at her bedside and took her hand, her head instantly cleared.

“Are you all right?” June asked, clutching her brother.

Jason nodded. “I’m okay.” His voice was gravelly. “I’ve been worried sick about you.”

“What did they do to you?” She touched the marks on his wrist, rage and anguish rising, making her chest tighten and throb.

“Restraints.” Jason pressed his other hand over hers. His eyes glittered, his form bright against the darkening windows. “When I wouldn’t…use my power for them, they put a scope down my throat. I think it damaged my vocal chords.” He blinked back tears. “They made me swallow stuff too, stuff that kept me from talking when they didn’t want me to.”

June wanted to scream, but the hot ache under her ribs kept her from making a sound.

“I figured they would kill me. I almost hoped they would, eventually. I kept thinking about you, hoping you got away, hoping they hadn’t found you and brought you back.”

June closed her eyes, but the tears slipped out anyway. “I never stopped trying to get in there and get you out. I did everything I could. Everything.”

“I know that.”

June opened her eyes.

Jason rested his head on her shoulder. “This isn’t your fault,” he whispered.

June pushed her face into his hair and kissed the top of his head. He smelled like home.

“Aaron said people think we might be dead,” June said. “What if Mom hears that?”

“I don’t know. We can’t risk contacting her. She might come, and they might get her too.”

“We can’t let that happen. Maybe we can secretly contact her somehow and let her know we’re all right.”

“I just want to go home.” He sounded small and lost. “It seems like I haven’t been there in a million years. Like it’s not real anymore.”

More tears fell from June’s eyes. “This is all my fault. I’m sorry I blew our cover. I’m sorry my big mouth led to them bringing us here.”

“Stop it.” He squeezed her hand. “We both agreed to it. They promised us a lot of money.”

June sniffed. “I was gonna give it to Mom. To pay off her house.”

He gave a wet, ironic laugh. “So was I.”

“Goddamn, I hate everything.” She brought her other hand up and mopped at her eyes.

“So do I,” he whispered. “So do I.”

Jason still had his head on her shoulder when Micha appeared. June didn't bother to wipe at the wetness that had leaked out onto her cheeks. The tears were unstoppable.

“Dipster is clean,” Micha said. “But she’s not very happy about it.” He held up his hand, the back now decorated with claw marks.

“Ow,” June said. “Cats and water. Worse than cats and blood.”

Jason lifted his head.

“We haven’t really gotten to talk.” Micha indicated Jason. “We’ve just been taking turns watching over you.”

“Micha,” June said, “this is my twin brother, Jason. Jason, this is—” She paused. “Micha.”

“It’s overwhelmingly nice to finally meet you,” Micha said.

The corner of Jason’s mouth quirked, a knowing light in his eyes. “I’m not the least bit surprised.”

June arched an eyebrow. “At what?” She didn’t possess a hope in hell of actually pulling off the innocent act. Not with Jason.

“You’re the only one I know who could pick someone up in the middle of a crisis,” Jason said.

June snorted but promptly regretted it when pain settled across her chest.

“What can I say?” Micha shrugged. “She’s a lovely lady. I see the family resemblance. You could both be movie stars.”

“A lady,” June said. She stage-whispered, “Are you flirting with him? Cause that’s really weird.”

Micha chuckled. “No. I’m a one-twin kind of guy. Also I only swung that way in college.”

She didn’t know if he was joking, but she didn’t care.

She licked her lips. They were dry, and her mouth tasted like she’d been blowing Satan. “Do me a favor, guys.”

“Anything,” Micha and Jason said in unison.

“I’m hungry. The doctor said I have to start on liquids. Make sure no one tries to feed me any broth made with fucking flour or I’ll
die
.”

Micha laughed. “Vegetable puree it is. When you get a little better, I’ll find you some veggie bacon.”

“And wine. I want wine. That’s liquid.”