Cheat the Grave (30 page)

And Hunter blinked. Reaching up, Solange levitated, but then paused midair to look back at me. My hot blood suddenly ran cold. Her intention was written all over her beautiful face. She couldn't touch me…so she was going to touch him.

“Take a good look at your one true love, Jaden.” She spoke softly, but every word was honed. “Because now you see her. Now you don't.”

I whirled, lunging for the lantern closest to me, but knew I'd never make it in time. Sure enough, Hunter screamed. One hand cupped around the flame, the other poised in front of it, I could only glance up. Solange's laughter cut the air as she returned her attention to Hunter…and plucked out his left eye.

He screamed again, the lone remaining eye blinking furiously, and I sucked in a deep breath as Solange turned back to me, hand lifting.

“Don't you dare put that in your fucking mouth.” My voice was strained. My breath was held.

“Or what?” she said, pretty mouth twisted like a snake. But then she glanced down, recognized what I held in my hand. I'd have smiled as shock blunted her pretty features, but there wasn't time.

“Suck it, Sola.” And I blew out the air in my throat, aiming for her face, fixed on that mouth.

The quirley was as savage as Tripp said. The smoke took on a life of its own, forceful as a rapist, and Solange screamed as she put her hands to her face and throat, eyes bulging as tar-black death whipped around her. Hunter's gem fell from her hands, and I yelled even as I dove for it. “Io!”

Solange fell atop me, screaming and tearing at the air with her hands, smoke still ripping at her pores, but I held my breath…and made damn sure to keep my eyes closed as her hands scraped over my body. When icy palms wrapped around my shoulders, I bucked to free myself, fighting like a mental patient strapped to a gurney.

“Come back!”

I lunged upright, Io suddenly beside me, the night sky just a memory and Hunter gone. I sucked in a breath of air so cold I coughed, the ache burrowing to spread like a fissure in my lungs. Buttersnap licked at my arm, and I pushed her away so abruptly the great dog whimpered.

“Ugh,” I managed, keeping my breath shallow so I didn't puke.

“Shh,” Io said, an arm around my waist, holding me close.

I shook her off too, needing to be untouched, alone, so the rage I was feeling wouldn't zap anyone else. My breath rattled harshly in the too-still room. “She needs my power, my soul, to finish her horrible sky.”

Yet Midheaven was the one place I needed to go. That's where my army was. That's where
Hunter
was.

Io inched closer again but was careful not to touch me. When my breathing had calmed somewhat, she said, “How do you feel?”

“Truthfully, Io?” I asked, hand over my queasy stomach. “I'm pissed.”

She stared at me with her wide, lidless gaze before nodding once. “That could work.”

Sure it could, I thought, the fresh memory of Hunter's scream sending a shiver through me again. It ran through my body, down my limbs, and zipped to my fingertips, where I shook it off…and sent Hunter's soul gem clattering to the floor.

I cried out and dove as I had in Midheaven, this time to save the gem from Buttersnap's inquisitive nose. Cradling it to my chest, I looked back up at Io. She gazed back, as dumbfounded as I'd ever seen her.

And looking at the gorgeous jewel in my hand, recalling how Hunter had warned me never to return to or for him, I swore an oath to every star in the heavens above: the blow I'd just dealt Solange wasn't even the beginning of it. Fuck the universe; fate wasn't a fixed entity. Mortality or not—Mackie and the Tulpa and my other numerous enemies aside—I was more than happy to show Solange a wild death.

“I'll give you the phenomenal violence you seek,” I said, cupping the gem in my palm as gently as I would a baby bird. “I'll deal it to you like a hand of soul poker.”

I'd deal it out in fucking spades.

Winter's dawn along the Mojave flats was as beautiful as a tea ceremony. The outlines of the scraggly Joshua trees were backlit in baby blues, a precursor to the pastels soon to sweep the sky. Mountains loomed in lavender, and the soft desert scents were still in evidence, though like all shy desert things, they too would soon go into hiding. I'd avoided watching dawn or dusk in the last weeks because those moments broke my heart. The veil between this world and the Zodiac's alternate reality was thinnest then. That was when troops crossed from their sanctuary back into mortal reality, so it was poetic to be leaving Frenchman Flat at this time, returning to the city coiled like a bright snake, waiting for my return.

Just like the agents of Light, I thought, spotting Felix and Micah still lined against the invisible border just beyond rogue territory. I walked toward them in the new day's chill, the rocky desert crunching beneath my boots while eggshell and pink warred with one another in giant, silken swaths across the lightening sky.

“A pretty day to die,” Carlos remarked, watching the sparse, wispy clouds evaporate with the last tendrils of
night. I gave him a sidelong look and his hands went up. “What? I didn't mean you. Just in general.”

I adjusted the holster at my waist, and the agents of Light drew in tighter on the other side of the invisible line. In addition to the two men, there were only Tekla and Kimber. Warren probably had them guarding the border in rotations. I ran a hand over my hair, slicked into a low bun, then dropped it, aware of how much nervousness the movement contained. The Light stood across from me, wide-legged and still, and I tried to imagine what Carlos and I looked like as we approached in the cold dawn. Probably pretty ragtag. I was an outcast, with only mortal fighting skills and a mutant hound tethered to my side. Carlos was just plain disreputable in his shit-kickers and dusty jeans, the scruff shadowing his cheeks a good couple of days beyond sexy.

I halted only feet from the barrier, letting the day fully claim the sky before speaking. “Micah. Tekla.”

Felix gave me a little wave and I smiled at him, but before I could get too comfortable, Kimber made her presence known. As usual she was pumped and pissed, kohldarkened eyes narrowed, chipped, black nails poised on her dart gun. Following my gaze, she smiled evilly. “I won't miss this time.”

I considered giving Buttersnap some slack. Kimber's glyph took on a faint glow, as if she read my mind, but I wouldn't do it. I'd never get Buttersnap's muzzle off quickly enough.

“Finished hiding?” she asked, tossing her long blond dreads.

“I was just taking a little siesta. Right, Carlos?” He nodded, and I nonchalantly kicked at some bramble. It tumbled over the invisible line, right to the toe of Kimber's boot. “After all, I'm going to need my full strength to face Sleepy Mac.”

Kimber huffed so hard I doubted there was any air left in her lungs. It didn't keep her from speaking. “In your
mortal state? Better to stick to your siestas on
that
side of city limits.”

“Well, you'd think so, wouldn't you?” I forced out my own mock sigh and patted Buttersnap on her great black head. Her body thrummed beneath my touch. She could barely stand being this close to the agents of Light without attacking. Io had done some sort of hypnosis on the dog, though, a mental prescription not to move from my side unless I expressly commanded it. “But unlike you, Mackie can actually get to me here. So going after him in Las Vegas is the lesser of two evils.”

She jutted out her chin, a nasty smirk widening her face. I hated smirks. “You have to get past me first.”

“Okay.”

And Carlos shot her with a tranq gun. We high-fived as she dropped like A-bomb fallout. It'd been my idea to plug her with a mortal weapon, and I'd have done it myself but this was more gratifying for us both. He never got to fire things, and looked pretty jazzed about his shot. Even Buttersnap was wagging her tail so hard her whole body shook.

Felix snickered, then sobered under Micah's dark look. They could smell the drugs in the shot, and knew Kimber was fine. In fact, troop members routinely did worse on April Fool's Day. It would be humiliating for her when she woke, but what was she going to do? Hate me more?

“Do you have an actual plan here, Joanna?” Tekla gazed up at me with soft eyes, her tiny frame lost in the folds of gray silk, her hair pulled back like mine, but more severely. Her voice was authoritative—she was shitstorm powerful—but permissive and fair. She wasn't angry with me like Warren. And though I couldn't scent their emotions, I didn't think anyone besides Kimber was either. “Or are you going to drug every moving thing?”

“The plan,” I said calmly, mirroring her folded hands, “is to kill the Tulpa, gain the aureole for myself, thus preventing Mackie from killing me and allowing me to enter
Midheaven without stripping away the last of my soul. Or, you know, dying upon entry, since I'm mortal.” I looked around. “Any other questions?”

“You're going after Hunter.” It wasn't a question. It was Felix at his most serious…and it sounded like he wouldn't mind coming along.

“I'm going after Hunter.”

“We're not going against Warren's wishes, Joanna,” Micah said, shooting Felix a hard look before gazing down at me from his seven full feet. The soot and black fire festering beneath his skin shifted with every syllable, causing him to wince, but his eyes were still kind despite the agony. The look nearly brought tears to my own. “I know he can be brusque, but he has reasons for everything he does. And he's kept this troop together for a long time.”

I wanted to say the Tulpa did all of those things too, but had no desire to antagonize Micah. At least he seemed to have given himself something for the pain. His eyes were a bit too glassy and his words slid into one another where they didn't cut off abruptly. I fought back a wince when he swallowed hard. So he'd turned his back on me. I still hated to see him like this. “I'm not asking you to go against him,” I said softly. “I'm just asking you to let me pass.”

“You mean defy his wishes.”

I yanked the old silver gun from its holster with my free hand and pointed it at Kimber, now sitting up. The liquid green vial atop the chamber caught the morning sun like it was drawing the light in. “I mean, live and let live.”

Tekla eased in front of Kimber. “There's no need for that.”

Despite her gentleness, it reminded me whose side she was on. I used the gun to motion her aside. “Yes, Tekla, there is. Because a man is being held captive and tortured in another world, and he was driven there because of the things Warren didn't tell him…just as he didn't tell any of you.”

Micah shook his head. “I told you he has his reasons.”

“Yeah?”
That
reason was sounding more and more like an excuse to me. “Well, if circumstances were different, it could easily be any of you over there.”

“Hunter made bad choices.”

“We all make bad choices.” Most people made them in a vacuum, acting on what was known and doing the best they could. But if someone kept the truth from you, forcing you to act in its absence, then even a bad decision was a false negative. But again, it wasn't the time. They'd come around to the same thought eventually. If they hadn't already, I thought, noting Felix's silent frown.

“Look, I know you have a job to do, you're still in a troop, and Warren's your leader. I get it. But I could use some allies.”

The ensuing silence almost sizzled in the air, and despite the coolness, it reminded me of a scorching summer day. Finally, Micah spoke up. “Where are you going?”

Tekla looked at him sharply. He continued watching me, sooty shadows sifting beneath his skin like black clouds.

“Valhalla. Noon. The wedding of the decade.” I smiled wryly, but none of them smiled back. “All the major players will be there. Show up. Help me.”

Only Tekla's mouth moved. “No.”

It wasn't said cruelly. No more animosity in the refusal than if I'd asked her to get me a pint of milk at the store.

“Then just let me pass.”

Nobody moved, and in that frozen moment, I unexpectedly began to feel sorry for them. Sure, I was the weakest, the outcast, the one most likely to be dead by day's end. But I made my own decisions now, calling and controlling my own shots, and unlike any of them—dependent upon Warren's whim and “reasons”—I could no longer be used.

Maybe they sensed something of my thoughts, because Tekla and Micah simultaneously stepped aside. Both silenced Kimber's protesting whine with a sharp look. Felix only watched me.

“We'll tell Warren,” Tekla said. “Immediately.”

Of course. “Thank you.”

Carlos and I started forward, shifting so we were back-to-back with Buttersnap taking the lead, but Micah veered as well, and shook his head. “Only you.”

I stared up at his looming frame from the distance of only five feet. It felt like miles. “The rogues are not your enemies, Micah.”

The liquid ash below the surface of that first layer of skin wavered as his jaw clenched. “They aren't allies.”

“They could be.” The plea was in my eyes, if not in my voice.

Tekla cleared her throat. “Not today.”

Glancing from one senior troop member to the other, I decided not to press my luck. Rome, I thought, hadn't been overthrown in a day. But I stared back into Micah's kind, destroyed face. “I'm so sorry you've been injured, Micah. I'd never wish it for you. And I'm…I'm just sorry.”

Tears must have already been waiting because they spilled over his cheeks in light black streaks. “I'm sorry too.”

And he wasn't talking about his own pain.

I nodded, then turned back to Carlos. “Wait until they're gone. Warren will pull them all to come after me. There's an employee entrance south of the parking garage at Valhalla. I'll make sure someone knows you're coming.”

He frowned, not liking it. But I had to go, and even though the rogues were more committee than troop, he still needed to keep their best interests in mind. Finally, he touched my cheek with one hand. The warmth made me realize how cold I'd actually been. “Be careful.”

“You mean the opposite of careful.” Because what I needed to be was effective. I had no idea how those two things could possibly coincide.

“Sí, mon
, but be careful doing that.”

I smiled, then turned back to my former troop. “Oh, yeah.” I looked at Tekla, who raised a brow, and I shrugged. “I could use a ride.”

 

Well, I couldn't very well walk the sixty-five miles back to the city, could I? I wouldn't even make it to the wedding in that time—and the cell didn't have cars. So despite the declaration that they wouldn't go against Warren's wishes, Tekla offered to accompany me, and no one dared go against her. Maybe they thought she'd kidnap me and turn me over to Warren as soon as we were out of sight. She easily could, but I didn't think so. Otherwise she would have grabbed me as soon as I stepped over the boundary. There was something else at play here.

Yet Tekla said nothing as she drove in the waxing light, just sat at the wheel of a stolen truck, as if she wasn't blowing down the streets like a hurricane. I needed to grab a shower and my bridesmaid dress before the wedding, but despite the speed of the trip, I was actually surprised when Tekla pulled to a stop a block from Xavier's home, mindful of the mansion's surveillance cameras.

Facing her as the truck idled, I searched for the woman who'd taught me about Ophiuchus and told me to make a difference. She looked childlike in the cab of the great truck, and had to sit forward on the seat just to touch the pedals.

“You're choosing a dangerous path, Joanna,” she finally said, staring straight ahead.

I was about to say that it had been chosen for me, but stopped myself. I could have chosen differently a number of times. I could still do so now. Instead I fingered the gem in my pocket, one as warm as the heart in my chest, and shook my head. “I was born to this path.”

She glanced at me sharply, the stare growing long, before she finally nodded.

“You believed in me once, Tekla. You wouldn't have spent so much time working with me if you didn't. You wouldn't have been so hard on me.” I glanced out the windshield. The daylight was now spread around us like a stain. “You believe in me now too. That's why you drove me today. When you know that Warren will be furious.”

“Warren—”

“Has a reason for everything he does. Blah blah blah.” I jerked my head at her. “What about your reasons?”

She lifted her chin. “They are the same. We work in tandem, always and only for the best of the troop.”

I'd have laughed loud and long at that, but it wasn't really funny. “And how does allying with Caine fit into that?”

I got a flash of her face inches from my own and wrapped in fury, and then she was facing forward again. It happened so fast I almost missed the movement altogether. Heart skipping, I didn't dare blink. “Caine is none of your business.”

“Caine did more for me than the troop as a whole. He gave his life to help me.”

“Why do you think I'm here?” she snapped, looking at me again, and I sat back, air whooshing from my chest. Well, that cleared things up a bit. Tekla wasn't here for me specifically, or to screw over Warren in general. She just didn't want Caine's death to mean nothing. But the brittle frown on her face kept me from asking what he'd meant to her.

“Warren's a control freak with tunnel vision,” I said instead. “He manipulates everyone, especially those in the troop.”

“He's still our best chance to preserve choice for the mortals in this valley.”

“Well maybe the mortals in this valley deserve better than that.” Maybe
I
did.