Zack did not appear to be amused. “I’m not surprised.
“Well, seriously, I mean I don’t know anything else about him except that his skin is what binds those metal plates to him.” I shrugged, my arms expansive. “I only have the basics.”
“And you didn’t mention this before, when we first encountered him?” Dark suspicion glassed over his eyes.
“Like I told Ariadne, we’re not to the full-trust stage yet.” I stared him down. “Give it a little more time, maybe.”
“Time,” he said with a shake of the head. “I don’t know what it’s going to take, but I doubt it’s just time. I’m gonna go check on Kurt.”
He left, and I felt a stab of guilt for lying to him. I exited the garage through a side door, stepping out into the winter night. It was starting to snow, the flakes landing delicately on my shoulders. Had I been less preoccupied, I might have tried to catch one on my tongue. Yeah, I’d just dealt a hell of a beat-down to Henderschott, but he wasn’t dead, and for some reason, I suspected he’d be back. Wolfe was still somehow able to take control of my body at unfortunate moments (not that there would ever really be a fortunate moment for him to assume control) and because of him, I suspected I’d let loose an extremely dangerous meta to wreak untold havoc upon the world.
Did that mean anyone Gavrikov killed was another death on my conscience? I already had 254 that I blamed myself for. I’d kept a very careful accounting, sadly enough, and that was the tally. Sure, I hadn’t physically killed any of them myself (except Wolfe) but I regretted them all (except Wolfe).
I entered my room, shutting the door behind me. I had been tired hours ago; now I was exhausted. I threw down my coat, noting white powder spots from the drywall all over the exterior and a nice rip along the back, presumably from the fight with Henderschott, and I wondered if I should be worried. Did most seventeen-year-old girls get into as many fights as I did? I doubted this was normal for anyone but the worst delinquents.
A knock at the door jerked me out of my thoughts. I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror. Drywall dust was speckled through my hair and I had three visible rips in my shirt. I sighed and went to the door.
When I opened it, I was faced with a man I’d never seen before. He had a deeply pale face, his hair was brown and short, and his eyes were bright blue, in a shade that glittered even in the dim light.
“Yes?” I looked at him as I spoke. He was older, probably in his thirties or later. “Can I help you?”
“May I come in?” He spoke with a heavy accent that sounded Russian or Slavic.
“Umm...do I know you?” I looked at him, trying to determine if I’d seen him before. He wasn’t Henderschott, I knew that much. His face was normal, handsome even, though pale.
“Can I please come in?” He looked back down the hall, furtive, and lowered his voice to a whisper. “I saw you outside and followed you back here so we could talk.”
“Saw me outside?” I drew the door a little closer to shut. “There wasn’t anyone outside just now. The campus was deserted.” I straightened, trying to project the image that I was strong by drawing myself up to my full height. I doubt it worked. At 5 foot 4 inches, I was shorter than almost everyone. Including him. “By the way, telling a girl you followed her back to her room? Not exactly a turn on. Kinda makes you sound like a stalker.”
He brought his hand up to his eyes as though he were frustrated, massaging his temples. He looked out at me from behind his fingers. “I need to talk with you.” He pulled his hand away from his face and held it up. I stared at it, wondering what he was going to do next when the tip of his finger burst into flames. I yelped in surprise and the flame spread across his entire hand, stopping at the wrist. With an abrupt flick of his fingers, the fire died and his flesh returned.
“Aleksandr Gavrikov,” I whispered.
He stared down at me with those intense, blue eyes, and I swore I could see a hint of fire deep within them. “Yes. Now can I come in?”
Chapter 17
I took a few steps back trying to get away from him, but Gavrikov took it as a sign to enter. He closed the door after checking the hallway again. He pressed his back to the door after shutting it. He was haggard, his face pale, the coloring washed out. Big beads of sweat ran down his forehead and he was breathing heavily.
I didn’t want to ask, but I did it anyway. “Are you all right?” The backs of my thighs felt the soft impact of the edge of the bed; I could not retreat any farther without making it obvious.
“What?” His accent was more pronounced and he blinked a few times, as though his eyes were hurting him. “Oh. I have not been...” He stared down at his hands, as if seeing them for the first time. “It has been very long since I last quenched the fire.” He took another deep breath. “I don’t think I’ve done it since...” He looked up, concentrating as if trying to recall. “Not for over a hundred years.”
“Uh...how do you eat?” My brain screamed at me for my stupidity, asking him dumb questions when I should be jumping out the window, running far, far away from the man who blew up an entire building last night.
“I don’t,” he said with a grim smile. “When I am afire, I don’t need to eat, I subsist on air—it keeps the flames burning.”
“Oh.” I pondered that. “You don’t like being human?”
He looked down at his hands again. “Flesh is easily hurt. Not so with flame; it can be elusive, unquenchable—and it feels no pain.”
“Ah,” I said, still feeling dumb. “So...what do you want to talk about?”
“Have a seat,” he offered. I don’t know why, but I sat down on the bed. If he burst into flames, it wasn’t likely to matter whether I was standing or not. He walked past me to the window and looked out. “I have to thank you again for freeing me.” He looked out through the glass, then to either side as if he were trying to find curtains.
I shook my head when he turned back to me. “The glass is mirrored. No one outside can see us.”
His hand touched the window and he looked at it, curious. “So many differences since I was a child. We did not even have windows in the house I grew up in.”
“Yeah, me neither, for all intents and purposes,” I said, drawing a surprised look from him. “I had a somewhat unconventional childhood.”
“Unconventional.” He nodded and half-smiled. “I like that. I had an unconventional childhood as well.”
“So.” I felt a little awkward, and I still wondered why he was here. “Mr. Gavrikov—
“Please,” he said with a wince. “Call me Aleksandr.”
“Well, I was trying to be a little more formal—”
“I hate that name. “ His mouth was a thin line. “I am only Aleksandr.”
“Okay.” The awkwardness did not abate. “Why are you here?”
He kept his distance, walking over to the desk and the computer that I had yet to use. He pulled out the chair and tentatively sat down in it. He was still sweating profusely and I wondered if he was suffering some sort of withdrawal from not using his power or if he was simply nervous. “Your Directorate—”
“Let me stop you right there,” I said, drawing a look of curiosity from him. “They’re not mine. I’ve only been here a couple weeks, and mostly because I have nowhere else to go since that psychotic Wolfe,” I felt him stir inside but he kept blissfully silent, “was chasing me down.”
“Wolfe?” He squinted at me. “You drew the ire of the beast and yet live?”
“Drew his ire?” I snorted. “I drew more than that.”
“No matter,” he said with a wave of his hand. “I have heard the legend of this beast. Help me and I will kill him for you.”
“Too late. I already killed him.”
I watched Aleksandr’s face drop, a hint of disbelief permeating his clenched expression. “You killed him?” He pointed his finger at me. “You? You did this...by yourself?”
“I—” I tried to find an easy way to explain but failed. “Yes, I did.”
“Very impressive.” He nodded. “It explains why you were able to help me escape the lab. But I still need your help to free another.”
“Um...free them from what?” I tried not to overly worry about it, but I suspected that my potential new bosses here at the Directorate would be less than pleased that I had helped Gavrikov escape. I suspected they’d be even more peeved if I helped him break someone else out. As if having Wolfe running through my head wasn’t a bad enough mark on an employment application.
“The Directorate has imprisoned someone at their Arizona facility.” He took a deep breath. “Someone I must help.”
“Umm, I don’t think I’d be able to help you with that,” I said. “First of all, I don’t know where that is; second, I have zero pull with this organization.” I laughed under my breath, but it died after a second when I caught sight of his face. “Truth is, I’ve done a few things here that would be likely to land me in their jail before too much longer.”
“I need help,” he said again, this time almost pleading. “I don’t care if it costs my life, I must get this person out of their hands.”
“I can sorta understand that. Who is it?”
“My sister, Klementina.” He took a deep breath. “Only...it is not her.”
I let the air hang with silence while I tried to digest that. “I’m sorry...what? It’s your sister...but it’s not?”
He stood suddenly and his breathing was heavier. His eyes moved left and right, and he twitched. “My sister died in 1908.”
I started to wonder if I was dreaming, because of the surreal nature of the conversation. Then I remembered that I could talk to people in my dreams, and wondered if me being dead was a simpler explanation. My head hurt, mostly from being confused. “So they imprisoned her corpse?”
“No.” He stood and started to pace, his agitation becoming greater as he went. I could have sworn I saw thin drifts of smoke waft from him. “She died...but somehow they brought her back. Except it is not her, because she does not remember anything.”
“Like a clone?” I know my eyes were wide, and I was trying not to do anything to set him off, but by this point I was fairly sure he was crazier than I was. And with a psycho nutter in my head, I was probably pretty crazy by any objective measure.
He snapped his finger at me. “Yes! A clone. I worked for...an organization. After a time, I heard rumors that they were working on something. Something for me, as a gift—they wanted my loyalty, to buy it forever. But the facility at which they were working on this gift was lost to an attack by your Directorate. So I went there. I found the scientists that have taken over, but they have no answers for me. All the research was moved when the Directorate took over the facility, and now all that is left are files, some videos. I see her in the records, her face, Klementina’s. Somehow they brought her back, but the Directorate took her away with the other research subjects and sent her to Arizona.”
I had a sudden, annoying suspicion that sent my skin to tingling. “Describe her for me.”
“She was tall, with long blond hair, and green eyes. When I saw her last, her skin was tanned from working our farm. In the pictures I saw, she is still so.” He halted in his description and anguish flowed across his features. “Please. You must help me. I have to tell her—” He choked on the words. “I have to make it right.”
“Hrm.” I thought of Kat Forrest, our new arrival from Arizona, and wondered about the likelihood that Old Man Winter would have had her brought up here, thinking that he was about to capture Gavrikov. “Did she have any powers? You know, like you?”
“No,” he said with a shake of his head. “She was kind, and gentle. When father would—” He looked away. “She would come to me, try to soothe my injuries.”
“Uh huh. So would you say she had a,” I swallowed, “healing touch?”
“I suppose you could say that.” He paced back to the window. “I owe her...an apology. I failed the Klementina that was my sister.” He whirled to face me and all I could see was the resolve on his face. “I owe her—this shade of her, at least—freedom. I must get her free.”
“I can appreciate that you have,” I scoured my mind, “unfinished business or a debt or whatever. But, um...when I said healing touch, I meant literally.” He looked at me in confusion. “Can her hands heal wounds, grow flowers, stuff like that?”
His brow was furrowed. “I—”
For the second time since I’d been here, the giant window that ran across the entire wall behind my bed exploded inward. I dropped, using the bed for cover as glass flew over my head and I felt a blast of heat from where Aleksandr had been standing. I poked my head back up and found Clary, skin turned into some dark rock, stepping through the window. Behind him I saw the outlines of Parks, Bastian and Kappler, lurking about a hundred feet away. Gavrikov was already covered in flame again, hovering about a foot off the ground. The influx of outside air had turned the room a frigid cold in seconds.
“We went all the way down to Fairmont tracking you,” Clary said as he dropped onto the floor, shaking the room. “Found your handiwork. Blowing up a propane truck, Gavrikov? Not cool.” Clary hesitated and his voice turned gleeful. “Actually, I bet it was cool to watch when it happened, but now it’s just a big damned smoking crater and a hell of a lot of lanes of I-90 that ain’t gonna be open again for a longass while. And that poor trucker’s family—”
Aleksandr didn’t let him finish his sentence. He heaved two enormous fireballs at Clary, one of which burned the big man’s clothing off, exposing a chest of blackened stone. “I liked that shirt,” he said, staring down. “You better not—” Gavrikov fired two more blasts at him, each worse than the last. I felt the air turn superheated around me and closed my eyes to protect them from the intensity of it. Every single bit of the flame that Aleksandr had thrown at him had bounced off, hitting the walls of my dormitory room. The drywall had begun to blaze in four places and the carpet was beginning to catch fire.
“You’re gonna burn the girl’s stuff up, Gavrikov!” Clary shouted at him.
I was coughing, but I managed to get out, “I don’t own much of anything.”
“Well you’re gonna burn the girl up, and she’s already hot enough without your help!”
I was crawling toward the exit to keep that from happening, although I did blanch at Clary’s comment. I heard a fire alarm klaxon start wailing and then the sprinklers activated, and suddenly I was no longer hot but now cold again as the chill water soaked me through my already damaged clothing. I stopped at the door and used the wall as an aide to pull myself up. There was smoke billowed at the ceiling, but Gavrikov and Clary were already outside. Kappler, Bastian and Parks were circling them, but keeping their distance.