Infinite Risk (32 page)

My stop came along as he got another text, so with a feeling of bittersweet inevitability, I left Kian in Vonna's capable hands.

 

GOOD WITCH HUNTING

Morning meditation seemed like a stupid idea at first but it settled me, so I started the day on an even keel. I wrapped up and climbed to my feet to find Selena watching me while she rummaged in my cupboards. She had been here for over a week and showed no sign of vacating anytime soon.

“You don't have any olives,” she told me.

“I hate them. So no, I don't.”

“I could eat them by the jar, especially the ones that are a little fishy.” Her disappointment carried a tangible weight.

“I'll pick some up on the way home.”

“Don't forget that we're hunting tonight.”

“I got it.” We had scouted a locale about a mile from here, the biggest park in Cross Point, and after dark, it was ideal for our purposes.

Snagging my lunch, I waved as I went out. Jake and his driver were parked at the curb, one of the perks of our fake relationship. He didn't take me home in the afternoons since he had a later pickup, but cutting my daily bus time down by half rocked. The ride was quiet as Jake thumbed through a textbook.

“Test?” I asked when he glanced up.

“Did you forget?” He held the book up, and I recognized it from the class we had together.

“Kind of. But I'll be fine.”

“I'm torn between admiring your confidence and hoping you fail.”

“That's not on the list of acceptable boyfriend behavior.”

He smirked and ruffled my hair. Once the driver dropped us off, we made our usual entrance together and then went our separate ways. It was normal that he'd stop walking me to every single class as time went on. Too much hovering sent the message that things were shaky or that somebody was feeling needy.

God, I'm tired of high school.

The two and half months I had left seemed interminable. My life didn't improve when the counselor flagged me down the period before lunch. I was walking with Devon, and he cocked his head, silently asking what was up. I shrugged slightly and followed Dr. Miller into his office. According to the certificate on his wall, he had a PhD in school psychology from the University of Houston. He indicated the seat on the other side of his desk.

“I just wanted to touch base. It's been a while since our last chat. How are you doing?”

“Better,” I said, because that was he wanted to hear.

Actually, Doc, I'm falling apart. Literally. I might go poof in your office if I let myself feel sad. Or happy. Or angry. Or … anything at all.

Constantly seeking inner peace might sound like a good thing, but after all, it seemed a lot like going emotionally numb. He wrote something down, and I noticed he had my file open on his desk.
Doesn't he have other students to worry about?
I clenched my teeth and tried not get pissed off. If I had an attack in here, God only knew what would happen.

“Are you working on the journal like I asked you to?”

“Yeah. It's a real relief.”

“Obviously, this is your choice, but I'd be happy to—”

“No, thanks. I mean, the only way I can write what I feel is knowing nobody else will ever read it. It's so liberating.” I headed that offer off at the pass.

The flattery seemed to ease his disappointment at not getting a peek at my inner workings. “That's all I wanted. I'm glad you're making progress. Your teachers say that your work is solid.”

“That's good to know.” This would probably thrill him. “I was thinking … when I'm done writing, I might collect some things that remind me of my mom and bury them along with my journal, kind of a like a time capsule. Is that dumb?”

He perked up, steepling his hands. “Definitely not. That's a great step, Chelsea. When you feel stronger, you can examine these emotional artifacts.”

“Yeah, maybe in five years or something.”
Time I don't have.

Minus the journal, I wished I could do this. But I'd have to go to Boston and rob my old house, and that would likely create all kinds of weird ripples. Hell, who knew what the universe would do if I got too close to my double? The Harbinger had said I could steal her future by killing her, but the world might swat me a like a bug first.

“I feel like you're in a much better place. Let me write you a pass, okay?”

“Thanks.”

The halls were deserted when I stepped out of the guidance office. I hurried toward my next class, already in session, when Wade Tennant sauntered out of the bathroom. He cut a look at the door I'd just come out of and then smirked, folding his arms across a broad chest. Aegis prickled on my arm, an early warning of how bad this could get.

“So a girl really does need to be crazy to turn me down,” he said, evidently thinking that was clever. “Why else would you be with Overman?”

“Leave me alone.” I tried to go around him, but he grabbed my arm, and Aegis sent a shiver-shock from fingertips to elbow.

Let's kill him,
the sword whispered.

Well, that's new.
Was it possible that part of Dwyer's personality survived the forging and I had what amounted to a sentient weapon?
Disturbing.
I used a move I'd learned from Raoul, grabbing his hand and twisting Wade's arm so it could pop out of socket if he resisted. The pain startled him, so he swung at me.

No, you did not. I'm so tired of putting up with shit like this.

Pouncing, I kicked his legs out from under him and activated Aegis with a whisper and a touch. Gold sparks enveloped me as the pain started.
Right, anger bad, sword pretty.
With a twist of my lips, I touched the tip to his throat. “This is as clear as I can make it, asshole. Don't mess with me again.”

I didn't count on him nearly pissing his pants and screaming his head off. Doors banged open as I hid my weapon. The big idiot scrambled away from me, huddling against the wall, and when a teacher popped his head out to see what was up, Wade went off on an incoherent rant. The way he spoke reminded me of Nicole the day she snapped.

Something's definitely messing with him.

“Nine beat me up,” he babbled. “Then she threatened to kill me and she was glowing all over, and she's got a sword.”

Dr. Miller came out in time to hear that, and he signaled to the teacher in some professional code that he'd take charge of the situation. “Calm down, Mr. Tennant. I just had a conference with Miss Brooks, and I can assure you she's unarmed.”

“Damn, he's seriously tripping,” someone said, peeking through where a teacher had left the door slightly ajar.

“Take your seats,” the counselor ordered.

A series of clicks followed, until it was just the three of us. Miller tried to calm Wade, but he only repeated his outlandish claims. Jaw set, Miller turned to me for a sensible version of the story. Possibly wrong, but I'd enjoy this. I hadn't entirely lost my taste for revenge.

My gaze dropped to the floor. “He's been bothering me, off and on, since I started here. Today he was waiting for me to pass by and said some mean stuff about my boyfriend, Jake. When I tried to leave, he grabbed me. I was about to yell for help when he suddenly fell over and started acting weird.”

“That is … bizarre,” Miller said.

“Tell me about it.” With a hesitant smile, I tugged at my hoodie. “I can take this off if you want to check me for a blade.”

As expected, he laughed. “You obviously don't have a broadsword in your back pocket. Go on to class. I'll take it from here.”

“Okay. I hope he feels better.”

“That's generous, if what you said about his prior behavior is true.”

“Don't take my word for it, ask around.” With that, I headed to class, which should've been the end of it, but everyone was riled up, whispering questions as I tried to slip in quietly.

“Did Wade Tennant really freak out?”

“Was it drugs?”

“Is he being suspended?”

“They should send him to rehab.”

The teacher slammed her book on the desk to settle the students. “Enough. Chelsea, please give a quick summary so we can move on.”

I repeated a version of what I'd told Dr. Miller, best to stick with the same story. The whispering finally died down when the period was nearly over. We didn't cover as much material as planned, and people were still gossiping when the bell rang. During lunch, I hid in the library, partly because I was done talking about Wade, plus I had no desire to pick at my food and pretend to find it delicious. Nobody found me, either, which was the best part of the day.

After school, I avoided both Kian and Jake, who were canvassing the school. After turning off my phone, I went out a side door and sprinted for the bus stop before they realized I'd already gone. My luck held; the bus was starting to pull away, but I bounded up and slapped the glass; the driver stopped and let me on. Wheezing, I fell into a seat and got off six stops up, then transferred, heading downtown. I still shopped at the bodega because I preferred it to the upscale organic market. Plus José and Luisa had been so good to me, they should get my money now that I had some.

This bus reeked of curdled milk, and the driver was surly. I found a seat near the back, and a homeless guy plopped down in front of me. But when he shifted, I recognized his profile.
Raoul? Is this the Black Watch starting some new shit with me?
The Harbinger and I had pretty much ransacked one of their outposts, and I hadn't spotted Raoul watching me, but maybe he'd gotten better at surveillance.
Where the hell is Selena?
Possibly Raoul didn't trip her alarm since she was watching for supernatural stalkers, like the bag man.

“Don't speak, just listen for a moment first.”

I sat quiet, doing as he suggested.

“There's been a change in leadership. After some heated debate, I have new orders. They've decided that the cost of further engagement is too high.”

“What about Kian?” There was no point in feigning ignorance.

“Not my problem anymore. I've been assigned elsewhere, so I'm leaving Cross Point tonight. I've also been asked to convey our formal apologies and hopes there will be no escalation on your part.”

Is he kidding with this?
But maybe they thought I had the guns to go to war, if they still believed the Harbinger had my back. Not to mention, I'd been running with Selena lately too, which meant ties to Dwyer and, by association, Fell. As far as the Black Watch knew, for unfathomable reasons, I could have an immortal death squad at my command.

Pun intended.

Obviously, I quoted Jensen from
The Losers
. “‘As the ancient Tibetan philosophy states, “Don't start none, won't be none!”'”

“That's not Tibetan philosophy,” Raoul said.

“Never mind. My point is, I have other things to worry about. I accept the truce.”

“I'll let them know.” At the next stop, he got off the bus.

As the vehicle trundled on, lightness suffused me. I hadn't realized how many things were weighing on me until one of them disappeared. Now I only had a handful of immortals trying to end me—oh, and the world.
Can't forget that.
The Harbinger perched at the edge of my mind, whistling a somber tune.
What did you see? What was bad enough to make you leave?

Dark thoughts held me hostage until I reached my old neighborhood. The sunshine cheered up the streets that had seemed so desolate during the winter god's reign. Under Dwyer's management, the trees had budded early, and shop owners were scrubbing down their windows until they shone. First I popped into the store to do some work for José; then we chatted a little.

“How's life uptown?” he wanted to know.

“Good. But I miss people around here. I might be moving south in a few months, but I'll stop by before I go.”

“Whereabouts?”

“Miami,” I said, paying homage to Kian's assumptions.

“I got family there. Nice place, too humid for my tastes, though.”

“We'll see.”

Before I left, I bought Selena's olives and turned down the food José offered. When I first got here, the smell of Luisa's tamales made my mouth water. Now the scent might be dirty shoes or stamp glue for all the interest it aroused. I was getting by on protein bars and vitamins, but I was starting to look hollow-eyed, as if the world was devouring me from within.

Last stop, I went to House of Style to pick up some gloves. People would think I'd developed a weird affectation, but it seemed best to cover the glimpses of gold as best I could. There was no solution for my face, but hopefully any witnesses would think they'd imagined it. Devon's mom made cheerful conversation as I shopped.

“It's been a while. How have you been?”

“Good. And you?”

She gestured at the store, which she seemed to be trying to organize. “Oh, you know. Devon talks about you sometimes. Says you're funny.”

“I think he's cool too.”

Once I had a pair that would work, I paid and put them on. With a wave for Mrs. Quick, I headed home. Two bus rides later, it was dark by the time I got to the apartment. Selena waited upstairs, watching a dance competition program. When she saw I had olives, she beamed.

“Thanks! You're not so bad for a clay pot.” That was probably meant as a compliment. Without hesitation, she cracked the jar open and dug in with her fingers.

“What time do you want to head out?”

“Around half past eleven? That'll put us in the park at the witching hour.”

“That's midnight? I thought it was three a.m.”

“It's whatever time the witch says,” she snapped around a mouth full of olives.

“And that's you, I take it.”