A shiver rolled over me. The casual cruelty reminded me what sort of creature was in charge of protecting me—and I’d be insane to rely on him again as I had tonight. But I didn’t regret helping this kid get away. I just had no idea what we were supposed to do with him now. Surely his family’s reported him missing?
“You need to see a doctor too. I think your fingers are broken.” My words came out slurred, likely a result of the poison in my bloodstream.
Kian sped up, glancing at me worriedly. “Hang in there.”
Fifteen minutes later, he found a small hospital in some small town up the coast from Boston. The place was tiny compared with the hospital where I’d visited Brittany, but there were also fewer people running around. Since it was the middle of the night on New Year’s, they were busy with drunken accidents, and our situation didn’t seem as weird as it might have otherwise.
We waited for almost forty-five minutes, and it was getting hard for me to breathe by the time they escorted us back. They tried to take the boy back on his own, but he clung to Kian’s hand like he’d never let go. In the end, the nurse let us wait for the ER doctor on the same bed. He asked a few questions about what we’d been doing tonight, and I let Kian do the talking. He told a fairly convincing story about a New Year party gone wrong and an angry guard dog. Afterward, they tended my wounds and checked my ankle, sprained, not broken, then they set the kid’s fingers and put medicine on his cuts and bruises. The staff asked where Aaron’s parents were, but Kian said he was his brother and opted for private pay.
“Did something else happen?” the doctor asked, troubled enough by my respiration to check again.
“I might’ve been stung by something,” I wheezed.
His concern sharpened. “Are you allergic?”
“I don’t—” But I couldn’t finish the sentence; a vise tightened around my rib cage, compressing my lungs. My head throbbed from lack of oxygen, and everything went dark and smoky. In a few seconds, I’d be out.
“Anaphylactic shock,” someone yelled.
The medical team responded, running around and doing things to fix it. An oxygen mask went over my nose and something sharp pricked my arm. I was feeling better in five minutes or so, enough to sit up. Kian looked near death himself; he stumbled toward me and drew me into his arms, ignoring the people trying to work around us.
“Don’t ever scare me like that again.”
“It wasn’t on purpose,” I mumbled.
They kept us for another hour but when it became apparent we had no other weird or mysterious symptoms, the doctor decided our injuries weren’t serious enough to keep us overnight, so they cleared us out to make room. The boy flitted behind Kian and me, floating from the pain pills they’d given him. Kian’s story sounded dodgy to me, but none of our wounds were the kind that always required reporting, like gunshots. They asked a few pointed questions about Aaron’s injuries, but Kian lied well enough to allay suspicion.
Aaron hopped in the back without being asked and I fell into the passenger seat. As Kian started the car, the kid asked, “What are you going to do with me?”
“Huh?” My pain meds were pretty good too.
But Kian had evidently been expecting this question. “Do you want us to drop you off at the police station? They can probably find your parents.”
A tiny hitch of breath revealed how horrible Aaron thought that idea was. “If you want to get rid of me, it’s okay.”
I understood his fear. Who knew how long he’d been with the Harbinger? He couldn’t remember anything else, nothing about his life before. So right now, we were the only familiarity in a weird-ass world.
Hesitant, I suggested, “Maybe we could let him recover first?”
Though I felt bad for his family, they’d already been missing him so long. Two more days wouldn’t matter in the grand scheme, would it? I’d feel better if we weren’t dragging him to the station while he cowered and wept.
“Baby steps,” Kian agreed. “Okay, new plan. You can crash at my place until you’re feeling better. When you’re up to it, we’ll see about finding your family.”
Long silence.
When I checked on him, Aaron was smiling. He finally whispered, “Thanks.”
It was almost seven in the morning when Kian dropped me off at my place. He wanted to walk me in and apologize to my dad, but I aimed a pointed look at the pale, frightened kid in his backseat. “Right now, he’s your priority. Get him home, clean him up. Feed him something decent.” Another problem occurred to me. “Do you have anything to eat besides cup noodles?”
A guilty look. “I’ll buy some stuff.”
“You see my point. Look after Aaron, okay? I can handle my dad.”
“If you’re sure.” He dropped a quick kiss on my mouth, and I limped into the apartment to face the music.
Except there was no reckoning. The living room was empty, no worried father pacing, waiting to yell at me. Nothing stopped me from heading to my room at gimp speed or taking a long shower. At seven thirty in the morning, I ate a bowl of cereal and went to bed. I slept until past one in the afternoon, and my dad didn’t wake me. When I got up, I checked my ankle—still swollen and bruised—then rewrapped the elastic bandage.
He’d left a note on the fridge, at least, telling me he’d gone to the lab. How surprising. There was nothing to keep me here, so I decided to do a little grocery shopping and limp over to Kian’s place. Maybe that wasn’t the smartest move, but I couldn’t sit here by myself. School would be starting in four days, and we needed to figure something out for Aaron by then. He looked like he should be a freshman but I had no idea if he could even read. The kid likely needed years of counseling and help reintegrating into society.
I texted Kian when I was nearly there and he ran out with no coat, wearing a ferocious scowl, to grab the grocery bags. “Are you trying to injure yourself permanently?”
“It’s just a sprain. I have it wrapped, don’t worry.” I wasn’t about to admit how much it actually hurt from walking around on it.
“Get inside and put your foot up. If you move again today, you’ll be sorry.” His cranky face made me want to kiss him even more. I’d rarely seen Kian mad at me. Under normal circumstances, he was overly patient and understanding, like I could do no wrong because of the way we met … and the fact that he didn’t help me when he felt he should’ve. No matter the consequences.
“Fine,” I muttered, suppressing a secret grin.
Inside the apartment, Aaron was perched on the couch, staring at the TV. He offered a shy smile, seeming even younger and smaller in Kian’s clothes; the T-shirt and sweats swam on him. His hair was blond—I didn’t realize that last night—attesting to how filthy he’d been, and he had blue eyes, pale and startling, like a slice of winter sky. His skin suggested he hadn’t hit puberty yet. God, his poor family.
“Hi, Edie.” He lifted a slender hand in greeting but didn’t get up.
“How are you feeling?”
“Better. It’s nice to be clean. And I like being unshackled.” My breath caught at the casual horror implicit in that statement. “But … Kian says I can do whatever I want.”
“Obviously,” I said.
A puzzled look flashed across his small face. “But … you saved me. That means I belong to you.”
Oh, shit. I shared a look with Kian, who was telling me with his eyes how messed up this boy was. “Uh, no. You’re a person, not a possession.”
“If you don’t protect me, who will?” It was a desperate, heartbroken question.
Aaron’s eyes filled with tears that spilled down his pale cheeks, and he made no effort to hide or suppress them. His demeanor was so defenseless and childlike, almost like he was eight years old, that I found it hard to watch. Maybe that’s how old he was when they took him and now he’s frozen. It could also be a survival mechanism, if the Harbinger took pity on captives who wept without restraint or shame. Seeing the kid’s expression, I definitely had the impulse to hug hi
m and promise to take care of him.
“Your family,” Kian said.
“The Harbinger said he found me thrown away in the street, and if anyone wanted me, I wouldn’t have ended up with him.”
Ouch. But I wasn’t sure I trusted a self-styled god of mischief. For all I knew, he might’ve yanked Aaron out of a warm bed. “What if he was lying?”
His eyes opened wide, as if he’d never considered such a thing. “He’s a god.”
“So he claims,” Kian muttered.
“You said it could wait until I feel better.” That was a crafty deflection and would probably result in Aaron living here indefinitely but I didn’t have the heart to argue.
This was probably a bad, irresponsible move, but if Kian had someone else to look after, he wouldn’t be able to focus as much attention on me. Which meant, in turn, that I could work on figuring out how to save him from the deal with the Harbinger without him noticing. There would definitely be drama if he realized what I was up to.
Sorry, Aaron and family.
I told myself I was just respecting the kid’s wishes, letting him have a respite before the next life-shaking change, but my motives weren’t selfless. Kian sighed and sat down on the other end of the couch, patting the spot beside him. It was a weird way to spend New Year’s, but we watched TV together and late in the day, Kian made burgers from the supplies I’d brought. Though I went home past nine, my dad still wasn’t around. Briefly I considered going back to Kian’s apartment but that would be the same as giving up on my dad entirely.
The next morning, I got up early enough to see him before he left for the lab and I made him eat some eggs and toast. He flashed me a wan smile before heading out, leaving me to clean up the breakfast mess. He didn’t notice the fact that I’m limping. He didn’t ask why I was late the other night. Hurt welled up like blood from a deep wound. He can’t help it. He’s just not coping very well. I’m sure he’ll do better in time.
But I had no idea how I could save both Kian and my dad. The threats were completely different, but in my heart, I knew the danger was real. I’m going to lose one of them. That felt like an inevitable result, cause and effect. Whatever choices I made would ripple outward, and then there would be consequences.
For the moment, however, I had to recover before I could do either of them any good. It irked me but I had to rest until school started. So I sat around my beige apartment for the next few days, chatting with Vi online, and resting my ankle. When school started back, I didn’t want to be helpless. I got regular messages from Kian, updating me on Aaron’s situation. So far he hadn’t been able to talk him into going to the police. In fact, the kid apparently acted like he thought they’d put him in a cage or something.
Davina texted me on Sunday. You okay? Have a good break?
With a wry smile, I answered, You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.
Try me. Looking forward to hearing all the implausible deets.
I also got a message from Jen. I’m back. See you tomorrow.
Staring at my phone, I wondered if that was supposed to sound ominous. I recalled what Allison had said … and my private conversation with Jen about psychic vampires. But I had no idea who the liar was. Jen might be trustworthy and there was no doubt Allison could be malicious. She seemed to thrive on creating that kind of conflict; she might even feed on it. Which would explain her presence in a high school, as teenagers were so prone to drama. I wasn’t ready to burn my bridges with Jen, so I sent back:
Glad you’re home.
Sighing, I fell back on my bed with a groan.
I should probably get up and cook something, but right now, life felt overwhelming, just too many problems without solutions. If my phone hadn’t buzzed, I might’ve lain there until I fell asleep. But the text made me sit up and take notice.
Come out. I’ll be there in five.
Kian never came across like that, so I got dressed in a hurry and brushed my hair. Not exactly high style but it sounded like we had trouble. I half suspected Aaron had turned into a monster and tried to kill him or something but he seemed to be uninjured when the Mustang pulled up. The kid was in the backseat, surprising me.
“What’s going on?” I demanded.
In reply, Kian sealed up the car using the gel that supposedly guaranteed privacy for a limited time. I wondered how safe it was with Aaron listening. He might be working for the Harbinger, but Kian didn’t seem worried and they’d spent more time together. I guessed if Aaron was reporting back, Kian would’ve caught him by now. Anyway, maybe I was just being paranoid. The Harbinger probably had more esoteric methods of spying on us.
He started the car without answering, slicing into traffic in an urgent twist of the steering wheel. A glance back at Aaron provided no clues. The boy was oddly impassive, all sweetness and innocence, like he was just happy to be included. He smiled at me when I turned. His bruises had faded a little, shifting from black and blue to green, still shocking against his clear skin.
“How are you feeling?” I asked the kid, giving up on a straight answer from Kian.
“Better. I’m eating three times a day and sleeping in a bed.” The fact that he thought those things were worth mentioning made me so sad.
Kian spoke then. “Raoul called. We’re on the way to meet him.”
I CONFESS, I DO NOT TRUST YOU
“Raoul.” It seemed best to make sure we were on the same page, but I wasn’t sure how much context I should give aloud.
“My mentor,” Kian confirmed.
Right. The one who stole an artifact and is currently AWOL from the game. That meant we were taking a big risk in meeting him, as countless immortals would be paying attention to our every move. Trepidation made me sweat, though the car heater wasn’t fully warmed up yet. But I knew how Kian felt about Raoul, and that when the older guy split, it felt like he’d lost his only friend. So he had to be dying to see him.
“Don’t think I’m unwilling, but … why am I going? It seems like additional risk.”
“We’ve taken precautions.” That was all he said.
I didn’t realize my muscles were clenched until my shoulders started aching. I took a breath, willing myself to relax. Kian seemed to pick up on my mood and he moved his hand from the gearshift to touch my knee briefly.
“Trust me, okay? I’ll make sure nothing happens to you.”
“I’m not worried about me,” I muttered.
If shit went horrifically wrong, I had no doubt that Kian would throw himself under the bus to save me. In fact, that was my worst fear.
Aaron craned his neck as we parked. Kian ran around to open my door. I didn’t dally on purpose, demanding chivalry, more that I was weighing risks and trying to come up with a potential defensive strategy, should this go pear-shaped. Once I was on the sidewalk, Aaron hopped out and I saw that Kian must’ve taken him shopping, as he had on khaki pants that fit, new running shoes, a blue quilted jacket, and a gray beanie. Actually, he was a really cute boy, which made me think that was why the Harbinger stole him.
Horrible thought.
Kian led the way, his head on swivel, as we rushed down the sidewalk. We made a couple of turns, and he kept checking behind us the whole way. As for me, I peered like a weirdo into shop windows, searching for stray reflections. I went sharp with anxiety when a stray movement flickered in my peripheral vision. When I wheeled, I saw nothing; that didn’t mean we were alone. Or safe. I didn’t say anything since I had no proof it was anything but my imagination; I resolved to stay alert in case things escalated.
I followed Kian into an imposing cathedral with giant stained-glass windows angling scintillated shadows across the richly polished wood floor. Each panel seemed to be telling a story; there were angels and mythic figures, but theological fables weren’t my strong point. In fact, I couldn’t remember being in a church before. The nave smelled of candle wax as we moved deeper into the building, cold because it wasn’t time for services. Likewise, the candles at the front
were unlit, and I didn’t see anyone waiting for us.
“Give me a moment,” Kian said.
Without saying anything else, he went into the confessional and a light went on for me. I bet Raoul’s waiting on the other side. It might be a crime to pretend to be a priest, but a human’s religious practices would probably be the last thing any supernatural cared about, unless he was being worshipped. And somebody like the Harbinger would probably sense it if I started lighting candles in his honor, seriously giving praise. Suddenly, it occurred to me to wonder about deities like the Christian God, along with Allah and the Buddha.
So many people believe in them … that means they’re probably real.
That stunning realization held me motionless until Aaron nudged me. I turned. “Huh?”
“What do you think he’s doing?”
“Didn’t he tell you?”
The boy shook his head. “His phone rang, he talked for a while, and got really upset. Then he told me to get dressed.”
It seemed polite to explain, “I think he’s talking to an old friend.”
That sated his curiosity and he perched on a pew near the front to wait. On reflection, I decided to copy him, as the casual onlooker might think we’d come inside to pray. People do that, right? I’d seen it in movies anyway. It was hard to sit still with curiosity nibbling at my toes, but I kept myself from sneaking up to eavesdrop.
No more than five minutes ticked by before Kian strode toward us. I hopped up, heading for the door, secretly pissed off that I apparently wasn’t getting to meet the mysterious Raoul, when he grabbed my arm. “Your turn.”
“Really?”
Before I could ask, he nudged me toward the confessional. Rather than waste time arguing and increase our risk of getting caught, I went inside. It was a small box with a window to the other side, where I could vaguely make out someone else hovering. The view was obscured for a reason, I figured, so the sinners never got a good look at the priest listening to all of their dirty deeds.