28
D
oes he care?
The question echoed in Lily’s head. Lily took a gulp of coffee.
Lie.
“No, he does
n’t care about me,” she said. “It’s just sex.”
Her contrary nature made the words pop out. They were immediately followed by knee-melting fear that she’d just signed her own death warrant. The slow, bloody, screaming kind.
King just smiled. “Ah, Lily. That’s not true.”
She shook her head. “I’ve known him for, what, a week? I was only physically with him for half that time. For all I know, he was already screwing other women. He’s a ladies’ man. He’d boff anything female with a pulse. And he’s attractive. Who could blame me?”
“Oh, no one, my dear. Was he good?” King asked brightly.
Lily paused, feeling for the trap. She wanted to spit on the floor and tell him to insert it straight up his nether orifice. But that did not jive with the not-caring persona. She gave them a bright, toothy smile.
“Very good,” she said throatily. “Lots of stamina.”
“Oh, really? A man can really give his all when he’s in love, eh?”
She let out a cynical bark of laughter. “We had quite the mad affair. The guy talks a lot, but he never said ‘I love you.’ Not his style. He keeps things light. So don’t try to control him with me.”
King threw his head back as he laughed, showing off his excellent dentition. “That’s good. I’m so glad you’ve been entertaining yourself.”
“Oh, yeah, I was so entertained,” Lily said. “The gunshots and knives and explosions and all that, it really livened things up.”
That set him off again. He chuckled until he wiped tears from his eyes. “Oh, that’s funny,” he murmured. “You are unique, Lily.”
“I’m gratified that you’re so amused. I live to please. I don’t suppose you’d just tell me why you’re doing this. I have no beef with you, other than that you’ve been trying to kill me. So what is your problem?”
King tilted back on two legs of his chair. “I’m afraid the simple answer will not satisfy you, my dear. Because it’s really not fair to you.”
He paused with that annoying half smile. She clenched her teeth against the urge to beg him to go on.
He finally gave in, probably to the hunger to hear his own voice. “It isn’t anything that you did, Lily, or anything you know. It’s more about who you are. Which is to say, Howard Parr’s daughter.”
She’d known that already. She’d known it from the beginning, but even so, she felt the pieces fall into place with an iron clang of finality.
“Why?” she whispered.
“It was about what Howard knew, my dear. Which was far too much for my comfort.”
“About Magda, you mean? How you murdered her?”
He stared at her blankly and began to chuckle. “Well, now. You know even less than I thought. Howard never had a chance to confess, did he? Zoe stopped him just in time, bless her murderous heart.”
“Zoe’s the name of that nurse who slit his wrists?” Lily asked. “The one you sent after me to the cabin?”
He shrugged. “Insofar as—”
“Yes, I get that. Insofar as these wretched robot drones have any identity separate from you,” she snapped. “I’m a quick learner, OK?”
His face froze. Her belly fluttered, terrified she’d gone too far. Speeded up the mortal agony part of the day’s entertainment.
“Yes, you are a quick learner,” he said. “But not quick enough. You never found out anything that could have hurt me.”
“Then why me?” she burst out. “Why did you come after me?”
He shook his head sadly. “Once Howard pronounced the words ‘Magda Ranieri’ and mentioned her son, your fate was sealed,” he said. “You had to be prevented from making contact with Bruno. Separately, the two of you had nothing that could threaten me. But together . . .” He shrugged. “Bruno was the fuse, you were the match. We didn’t succeed in eliminating you before that contact took place. So all we could do after is to contain the mess, as best we can.”
“But my father . . .” She shook her head. “How could he have . . . he was a doctor, a fertility specialist! He grew babies in test tubes! What could he have possibly known that would bother you?”
He shook his head. “That’s none of your concern, now. Believe me, you have much more urgent things to worry about.”
“Why didn’t you just kill him, too?” she demanded.
He sighed. “I should have, in retrospect. Magda had to be eliminated because of the kind of person she was. In brief, just like her son. Can you imagine Bruno knuckling under, promising to be good? He would fight to the death, like Magda. She was indomitable.” He looked dreamy, nostalgic. “An incredible genetic heritage. But I digress.”
“Uh, yeah,” she muttered. “You sure do.”
“The simplest way to make sure your father never said anything would have been to kill him, of course,” he went on. “But this may surprise you, Lily. I prefer to avoid killing, if possible. It’s a logistical nightmare if the authorities get involved. Such a terrible drain of resources, and the risk of exposure, too. At the time, I thought it would be better to just terrify him into silence.” He gave her a regretful smile. “It wasn’t hard. Howie wasn’t like Magda, you see.”
That bastard. Her fists were clenched, her knuckles white. “So how did you do it?” she asked. “What did you threaten him with?”
He looked impatient with her dullness. “With you, of course.”
She wouldn’t have thought she could feel worse, but the day was full of surprises. “But I never even knew that you existed!”
“Of course not. That would have meant certain death for you both,” he explained. “My people were discreet. We made sure that Howard was regularly reminded of what would happen to you if he went to the authorities with what he knew.”
“Oh, Dad,” she whispered. A sick ache of grief twisted at her guts.
“Every now and then, we would send him a fresh video,” King said. “I have the originals. They were very effective. Terrifying. Artistic, even, in their own special way. Would you like to see them?”
“No,” she said.
He burbled on as if he were doing her a big favor. “I’ll have Hobart put a monitor in your cell. Some video entertainment, while we wait.”
She tasted blood. She had bitten her lip. “That is so cruel.”
“Cruel?” He looked offended. “I hesitated to orphan a tenyear-old girl who was already motherless!
That
would have been cruel! I was generous! He kept his life, didn’t he? You kept your father!”
“Kept his life?” she repeated. “What life? I never had a father. You did murder him, you son of a bitch. You just took eighteen years to do it!”
He tutted. “Don’t be overdramatic, Lily. You’re being irrational. I’m disappointed in you.”
“I’m glad that you are,” she said. She stared at his hurt expression and the weird commando no-name creatures who hung on his every word. It clicked in her mind. His blind spot. He saw people as machines. He didn’t perceive their hearts, souls. He didn’t receive that wavelength. They were just dolls to him.
He was like a person who had never seen the colors of the sunset, but worse. He was missing a crucial piece, but in its place was insatiable hunger. Yawning greed and self-worship.
“Such hostility,” he complained, miffed. “I’m surprised at you.”
“I’m glad,” she said. “I have to thank you, you son of a bitch. I’ve finally found out what my problem is, after a lifetime of wondering.”
He blinked, expectantly. “And that is?”
“You,” she said quietly. “I finally know who to hate. Not my dad. Not myself. Just you. Only you. What a gift you’ve iven me. Finally.”
His eyebrow twitched. “You’re welcome,” he murmured.
She ignored that. “I don’t have to look any further for someone else to blame. The blame is all yours. You monster.”
“Melanie, Hobart, back,” he snapped as his minions leaped to attack her. The two subsided, clenching their fists.
King rubbed his hands together. “Well, then. Thank you, my dear. I think we have everything we need here. Hobart, let’s get right to work.”
“On what?”
“On our editing,” he explained. “This footage of our debriefing interview needs to be edited for your precious Bruno’s benefit!”
Icy fear pinched her. “You’ll never get Bruno,” she said. “He won’t come looking for me. It’s not like that. It’s just bittersweet memories.”
“That’s a lie. He’s coming. The power of love, or perhaps just sex, but power is power, hmm?” He patted her face, pleased with himself. “We know everything. We have a listening device on Rosa Ranieri’s phone. She’s the kind of woman who calls every hour, demanding a status report. He’s coming for you. In the area already.”
“What area is that?” She had no real hope that he’d answer.
“I suppose there’s no harm in telling you,” he said. “You’re over an hour north of New York City, in a nineteenth-century railroad baron’s country estate, perched on a cliff over the Hudson. Lovely place. Sadly, you will probably never see it. Someday I mean to remodel it, return it to its former glory, but I have other priorities right now. Melanie, my dear, upload the loop of her father’s extortion videos. It’ll entertain her while she waits. Lily, this just might give you some insight into your father’s breakdown, his drug addiction. Perhaps it will give you some closure?”
His benevolent smile flicked off like a switch when the door opened and a woman came in. It took Lily a moment to recognize her, she was so changed. Wizened, jaundiced, like something had sucked all the juice out of her, revealing a frame made out of bent wire. Her cheeks were caved in, her burning eyes sunken in darkened sockets. But it was her. Miriam. Or Zoe. One of the nameless ones.
Their eyes locked. The woman’s face contorted with rage. She launched herself at Lily with a raptor’s keening shriek of rage.
Her body connected, flinging Lily and her chair to the floor. The coffee cup flew, lukewarm coffee spattered everywhere, and Lily gasped for breath as Zoe’s thumbs bit down on either side of her voice box.
She clawed at Zoe’s hands, but they were like steel. The woman’s bloodshot eyes protruded from her wizened death’s head of a face, lips drawn back over her teeth as her fingers dug, crushed . . . the world retreated . . . going dark, silent . . .
It came swinging back, brutally vivid, along with air sawing painfully into her damaged throat. They were lifting Zoe, kicking and flailing. Lily lay on the ground, clutching her throat, coughing.
“Zoe! Zoe!” King grabbed Zoe’s shoulders, shook them, switched to a language Lily could not place. He shouted out a thundering phrase.
Zoe’s legs buckled. She sagged, boneless, whimpering.
King offered Lily his hand. “So sorry about that,” he said. “Zoe’s been confused since that incident at the cabin. A sequencing problem, I think. She can’t quite track the passage of time right now, poor thing, so she thinks she’s still supposed to kill you.”
“Aw. Really,” she croaked out. She ignored his proffered hand, scooting back until she could use the wall for support. “How upsetting for her. Wow. My heart just bleeds.”
He grinned in appreciation. “Ah, that’s the ticket. The sarcastic comeback, no matter what. I can see why Bruno’s so taken with you.”
“But he’s not,” she repeated, grimly. “He’s not. Dream on.”
King turned back to Zoe, intoning another phrase in that incomprehensible language. She appeared to come to her senses, shaking off Melanie’s and Hobart’s grips with a petulant jerk of her shoulders.
“Zoe, my dear,” King said. “You came to give us news?”
“Yes,” she said. “Julian told us that Ranieri is inside his grandmother’s house in Newark. The two McCloud men are waiting in the car outside. Julian’s circling the place, awaiting instructions.”
“Hmmm,” King murmured. “They must be looking for this jewelry box. The one he found the key for. In the locket. Next to Rudy’s skeleton. Hmm?” He gave Lily a smug, sly smile.
“How did you know that?” she whispered. “From Zia’s phone?”
“We’ve been watching carefully. Hobart, call up a satellite view of the house and get a webcam ready. Melanie, get me an untraceable line and call Pina Ranieri’s home phone. And Zoe, my bloodthirsty darling, do you have a knife handy?”
A smile stretched her wizened features. “Of course.” She crouched, pulled one out of a sheath on her ankle. An evil-looking thing, with notches and a curved five-inch blade.
“Excellent,” he murmured. “Bruno is sure to remember you from the cabin. Lily, sit down in your chair again, that’s a good girl. Hobart, get the webcam right in front of her, yes, just so . . . and Zoe, get behind her. Put the blade up to her face . . . yes, just like that, right under her chin. Excellent. Oh, yes, that’s just chilling.”
The cold steel pushed against her flesh, pressing every time she swallowed over the bump in her aching throat. “What is this?”