Secret Worlds (103 page)

The passenger seat holds a large roll of magnesium ribbon wrapped in plastic. 

I turn back to Syd. “Is this Larry's car?”

“Seems like it.” She glances down the road. “Can we go?”

I turn back to the car, yank open the driver side door, and lean in to grab the ribbon.

Syd raises her voice. “What are you doing?”

I jog back toward her, the package tucked under my arm. 

“There are a lot of things in that mansion no one should ever see.” I wipe my jacket sleeve across my forehead. “I think we should finish what Larry started.”

Syd scowls, then nods. We climb back into the Audi and U-turn to the mansion, my mind reeling on how long I need to delay the fuse so we aren't caught in the aftermath. 

As long as possible, I decide.

We pull into the driveway. 

I lean over and kiss Syd on the cheek. “I'll be right back. Stay here and keep the car running, okay?”

She gives me a hesitant look, then exhales and grips the steering wheel. I know she is worried about more than just outrunning the explosion. Larry is probably still in the mansion and, even if he is an asshole, he's the last of her uncles. I know she loved them. Maybe they had been good people once. 

I burst through one set of front doors and haul ass to the summoning chamber. Larry had dropped his blowtorch there when I made a pretzel out of his arm. Between that and the magnesium ribbon, we'll be ready for an early Fourth of July.

The chamber door is open. Thermite billows around my legs as I hurry to the blowtorch laying right where we left it.

I swoop down to pick it up. Something moves in the corner of my eye. I snap upright just as Larry barrels me over. My back slams against the ground, knocking the air from my lungs. The torch slips from my fingers and rolls away.

Larry has his hands around the neck. I try to get a knee up, but he might as well be a sumo wrestler. I can't budge. My throat chokes. My vision darkens. I twist and try to pull free, but he tightens his hold.

Then he slumps forward on top of me. Syd is standing over us. I shove him off and scramble to my feet. She drops her purse with a thunk and heads for the blowtorch.

“What the hell is in that thing?” I glance at her Purse of Annihilation. “Rocks?”

She grabs the torch, glancing at Larry, and then frowns. “Yes, actually.”

I laugh, because I don't know if she's serious or not.

“Well, it works.” She hands me the blowtorch.  

I tuck the torch into my jacket pocket. “Ya know, Syd, there's this thing called mace … ”  

“Yeah, there's also a little thing called magnesium ribbon, and you left it in the car, dork.” She hurries over to the door and picks up the package. “You really are kind of a lousy genie, aren't you?” 

“Hush.” I take the roll and hold it up. “Look, I'm going to run this from the front door, then light it, and
vámonos
.”

“Make like an atom and split,” Syd says. “Got it. How long do we have?”

“If I did the math right, about ten minutes. Be ready to floor it.”

Her face tightens. “Are you sure there's no other rooms?”

“Positive.” I squeeze her arm. “She's somewhere else. We'll figure it out.”

Syd follows me outside, then hurries across the lawn and slides into the Audi. She leans out the driver window to watch as I rip open the magnesium ribbon and start rolling it along the cement porch. According to the package, I have twenty-five feet. It should be just enough to get us out of here before destroying my final crime scene.

I don't need Karl to dig me out of this one.

With a glance back at Syd, I lower to one knee and pull out the blowtorch. I squeeze the trigger until the flame bursts from the tip, then lower it toward the ribbon. After a few seconds, the ribbon ignites. 

I pitch the torch onto the grass, then bound for the Audi and duck into the passenger side. “Let's go.”

Syd throws the car into reverse. Tires squeal as the car whips onto the road. 

I lean back in the seat. “In a few minutes, that mansion is going up in flames, taking the garage and stable with it. Good thing there's no—Oh, shit! Syd, turn around!”

“What the hell?” She glances at me, scowling, and doesn't let up on the gas.

“I know where Zoe is!”

I slam into the dash as the Audi comes to a sudden stop. Then I scramble out and take off across the yard. 

The fuse is receding, and magnesium tape does not snuff easily. I tear past the mansion, arc around the garage larger than the average family home, and head straight for the stables.

My chest feels like it's going to split wide open. I burst inside the stable and dart from one empty stall to the other, leaning over the doors. 

“Zoe! Are you in here?” I gasp between words, and my heart slams against my chest bone. “Where the hell are you?”

And then she's staring up at me. Her face is dirty, streaked by tears.

I throw open the stall door and yank her from the pile of clean hay. She screams and beats her fists against me as I toss her over my shoulder and bolt. The fuse line is maybe ten feet from the front door—and the bomb.

Syd clamors out of the Audi as I approach.

I try to yell, but my lungs are still struggling for air. 

I tug open the back door, shoving Zoe inside far too reminiscent of her kidnapping. Then I dart around the car and drop into the passenger seat.

Syd swings the car out and floors it like a NASCAR driver. A thunderous sound rumbles through the open desert. A moment later, the sky flickers orange. Smoke sweeps over the car, blacking out the windows.

We start choking, but Syd doesn't ease up on the gas. My lungs burn, my eyes water. After it feels like the entire world has gone up in smoke, we finally pull from the cloud and into the clear night.

Syd reaches behind her, into the back seat, and squeezes Zoe's hand. Zoe's eyes are fixed on me. Angry. Accusatory.

I turn away and slink down into my seat.

Zoe finally speaks. “Syd, did Dad find us?”

She speaks softly, but comes off surprisingly collected. 

Syd touches her tongue to her bottom lip. “No, honey. No, Dimitri saved us.”

“Who?” Zoe sounds disbelieving, like she knows Syd meant me but it doesn't jive.

“It's a long story.” Syd brings her hand back to the steering wheel. “You're safe now. Dim's not going to hurt you. No one will.”

Zoe is quiet for a moment before speaking. “Sydney … are we going home?”

Syd nods, gripping the steering wheel. “Yeah, honey. We're going home.”

We drive through the night, stopping only to refuel and to grab important documents from our respective houses. Neither Syd nor I want to hang around for long. It doesn't feel safe.

Zoe sleeps in the backseat. She looks awkward without a blanket or pillow, but I suspect this is the first real rest she has had since we first met. I don't know how Syd is going to explain to her what happened. I'm not entirely sure it makes sense to me yet. Maybe it will someday. 

We reach Santa Fe in the morning. Zoe is awake, but quiet, as we pull into their grandmother's house. Syd lets us in through the back. 

The rooms are small and loaded with furniture. Big, heavy furniture. The kind that feels rooted and permanent. I understand why this place has always been Syd's haven.

She takes Zoe to a back room. Water runs for eternity while I stand around in the living room. I'm covered in so much dirt and blood, I'm not sure I will ever feel clean again. After a while, Syd re-emerges down the hall with wet hair and a clean outfit. Just jeans and a t-shirt. No makeup. She still looks beautiful.

“Zoe is resting in Grandma's bed.” Syd steps into the living room. “There's another bathroom you can use, but I don't have any clean clothes for you. I'll go to the store when Zoe gets up.”

“I can't believe how amazing you were.” My hand touches her cheek before I realize what I'm doing. She doesn't flinch, so I linger over her soft, clean skin. “Are you going to be alright?”

She nods. “I have Zoe. She was the last innocent person in my family. I'll be fine for as long as she's safe.”

I step closer and lean in. It's a long shot, but so is everything else in my life. She pulls away, expression unreadable, and disappears into the kitchen off to the side. I cross the room to the doorway and watch, leaning against the door jamb, as she fills two tall glasses with water. She hands one to me. I take it, contemplating if I will ever be able to eat or drink again. It's been so long.

I chug it down. My throat burns like I'm shooting whiskey, but then the fire simmers and I realize just how dehydrated I am. Everything else follows: my muscles ache, my shoulder throbs, my head feels like I chased a brick wall and caught it. 

Syd seems to note my exhaustion. 

“Follow me.” She squeezes past me and heads down the hall. 

I trail after her, then stop as she flips on the light to a bathroom.

“Towels are in there.” She points at a wall mounted cabinet. “The guest bedroom is across from here. Get washed up and catch some sleep. I have to make a few phone calls and figure out what we're going to do. Then I'll wake Zoe and head to the store for food and clothes.”

She turns and leaves.

With enough soap and hot water, I manage to scrub off all the grime and probably a layer of skin. I slip on my jeans, gather up my clothes, and cross the hall to the guest room.

Syd is lying on top of the covers, looking up at the ceiling. I halt, unsure of my boundaries. 

She glances at me. “You can lie down. I won't club you upside the head with a rock-filled purse.”

“It's not just that.” I drop my laundry into the corner. “My pants are kind of … bloody.”

“Take 'em off,” she says without any emotion.

I can't hold back the dumb grin, though.

She rolls her eyes, but smiles. “Not like I haven't seen you naked before.”

“Yeah, but now it's awkward.” I peel out of my clothes and settle under the covers, next to her.

“Everything between us is.” She stares at the ceiling again, then sighs. “I really should get to the store, but I'm too tired to move.”

“Rough night?”

She laughs. “Yeah. I might need a drink soon.”

We simmer into a warm, pleasant silence. As much as I want to sleep, my brain isn't quite ready to shut down. Maybe because I have a lot to think about. More than likely, though, it's because Syd is next to me and I want to enjoy the feeling.

I study her. She is pretty beat up with scratches and bruises, but the swelling in her face has already gone down. Her arm is bandaged where Silvia went after her like a Thanksgiving turkey. 

Her expression is contemplative. That's Syd, always ready to take control of the situation.

I smile and settle back against the wrought iron headboard. “So, what was that avocado thing about?”

She gives a short laugh. 

“Three hundred million questions you could ask, and you care about fruit flies.” She rises onto her elbows and looks at me. “You know, when Ballantyne children are tucked into bed, they're told stories about the jinn. No 'Goodnight, Moon' for us. I spent my entire life wondering what the jinn would be like. If I would ever meet him. Sometimes, the idea scared me. Most of the time, it fascinated me.”

I tilt my head. “Disappointed?”

“I'm not sure.” She quirks her lips. “We never really knew anything specific about Karl's jinn. Not if he worshiped or despised Karl. Not if he had magic. Not if he was even real.”

I raise my eyebrows.

“Well, we never saw the jinn ourselves. We just heard about it from Grandma, that Grandpa had bestowed some ancient gift onto his first born son. Even she had never witnessed it, because Grandpa kidnapped Karl right after my youngest uncle was born.”

I stare at her, resigned to trying to decode her conversations. “I still don't get what avocados had to do with anything.”

“It's hard to explain. It was right after Zoe was kidnapped, you know? I was such a mess.” She takes a deep breath and pauses before continuing. “It's like, they never went and saw the avocados. They just assumed the flies were there, and then all these farmers suffered. Export is a huge part of economy, and all these assumptions, it must have ruined lives.”

She sits upright. “It was just like us. Like my family. We never saw the jinn. We just assumed it existed, and then people started getting hurt.”

I have no reply. The fact I do exist doesn't make what happened any more excusable. No one should have died proving I was real. The irony I was right in front of them the whole time is vile.

I will probably never fully understand what Syd went through, being raised in damn near a cult, then watching her family torn apart. Finding out I was behind part of the madness, the person she had spent many salacious nights with, must have left a mental scar or two.

I don't know how to fix the damage. Maybe time. Maybe never.

But I do know what I almost lost. 

“I want to tell you something, even if it's a little weird.” I hesitate, but it needs to be out in the open.

She gives me a tired half-smile. “Go for it, genie.”

For a moment, it's like we're back in my bedroom. I resist running my hand through her hair, because I doubt I will be able to stop myself from going further. 

“I love you, Syd.” 

“I know.” Her expression lightens. “You told me already.”

I lean back against the headboard. Syd is smart, and all the grooming from her family works in my favor. She understands me. I'm not quite sure how that stacks up in romance, but I was already flunking out anyway.

It's kind of nice not being alone anymore, though.

She rolls onto her belly, her side along my leg, and tucks her hands on her chin. “When I saw you in Santa Fe, saw what you were … It was not at all like I expected. You were so … vulnerable … but deadly. I spent my life imaging you, yet it was more amazing than I ever thought it could be.” She goes silent for a moment and then adds, “Maybe it's for all the wrong reasons, but I love you too.”

She pushes up to her hands and knees, and kisses me hard, pressing me into the headboard. Her arms slip around my neck as she straddles my lap. My hands grab her waist, pulling her closer. Her back arches up, her body grinding into me.