Public Enemies Page 16

  “Why don’t you bring your laptop over to my place? I don’t like you here without Raoul, especially with Buzzkill lurking around.”

  “He won’t hurt me.” Right now was the unspoken subtext.

  “I wouldn’t bet your life on it.”

  It didn’t seem worth arguing about, so I dropped my computer into my backpack. “Is Aaron there?”

  “Probably. He doesn’t go out much unless I’m with him.”

  As I turned, he caught my shoulders in his hands. With his thumbs, he traced over them delicately, gazing down into my face as if he might find the answer to a riddle there. He smelled a little salty, musky, and I had the urge to put my face against his neck. Restraint seemed like the only option. I didn’t deserve to be comforted. Yet Kian didn’t seem to know that since he pulled me into his arms.

  “It feels like you’re slipping away,” he whispered. “I know you’re scared for your dad, but … I need you too. God, I’m such a selfish asshole—”

  “No, it helps.” I wrapped my arms around his waist and squeezed my eyes shut.

  For a few minutes, we just held on to each other. I listened to his heart and marveled at the fact that he’d fallen for me. But … there was something I’d never asked. Maybe it was time.

  “How long did you watch me?” I whispered.

  “Over a year.’ He hesitated. “Do you remember the day last fall when you got free food and books?”

  Surprised, I tipped my head back. His cheeks were red. “I do, actually. It was weird, luck broke my way all day long.”

  “That was me,” he said.

  “Oh God, really? Then…” Honestly I had no idea what to say, but that day was one of the few bright spots in the gloom of my life. I finally settled on, “Thank you.”

  “It was all I could do, then.” He threaded his hand beneath my hair, so that a shiver went through me.

  I had only a few seconds to realize a kiss was imminent and then his mouth was on mine. Sweetness flooded me as I parted my lips to taste him deeper. He made a muffled sound against my lips, breath mingling with mine. Kian was a slow, deep kisser, taking his time to taste and explore, and the heady pleasure of it made me tremble. Soon I was just holding on to his shoulders while he backed me up against the wall. He felt so good, so strong, and I remembered that night weeks ago. If only I could turn my brain off, I’d forget the crap I was dealing with and just go with the endorphins.

  Logic didn’t drive me to pull back, though. My rational brain swam in a delicious cocktail of dopamine and serotonin, until I couldn’t think at all. He was lean and hot against me, more insistent than usual with lips and hands. I ran my palms over his back, deliciously drawn by the play of his muscles.

  When he finally broke away, breathing hard, my lips felt soft and swollen. I could hardly whisper, “You know this isn’t the time, right?”

  “I’m aware. Give me a sec and we’ll go.” He turned away, his eyes so hot they left pinpricks of heat on my skin.

  “Sorry,” I whispered.

  About so many things.

  By the time we left my building, he was calm. Kian joined our hands and shouldered the bag with my laptop in it. His attention sharpened as we walked, probably looking for Buzzkill or anyone who meant me harm. But the killer clown was in camo mode and he didn’t make contact. I had the ugly sensation of being watched; as ever, there were huge, eerie black birds wheeling overhead.

  Go on, I thought. Report back to your master.

  * * *

  “Wait here,” Kian said.

  “Huh?”

  He went into his bedroom and I heard him rummaging. Then he came out with a plain brown bag, so small that I had no idea what it might contain. He offered it to me silently.

  Puzzled, I opened it up and found a pretty handmade necklace in various shades of blue and green, like the ocean on a string. “What’s this?”

  “Remember when you wouldn’t take anything from that lady who was selling jewelry?”

  As I nodded, realization dawned. “That was the only present I didn’t accept that day.”

  “I was hoping I’d be able to give it to you in person.”

  Since this was a choker and I already had on the infinity symbol necklace, I offered my wrist. Kian looped it twice around, turning it into a bracelet. I kissed him softly in thanks and we were just starting to get into it when I realized his apartment was really quiet. Usually we’d be interrupted by now.

  By Aaron.

  “Where’s the kid?” I asked.

  With a tired sigh, I pinched the bridge of my nose. Then we checked everywhere, calling for him. Ten minutes later, we paused in the hallway, Kian visibly worried. At this point he was like a little brother to him, and he’d grown on me too. The boy had zero survival skills and was timid to the point of incapacitation around strangers.

  “You think someone took him?” I asked.

  “I have no idea.”

  I did one last circuit of the apartment and when I went into Kian’s room, the tinnitus struck. Clutching my head, I dropped to one knee and a pale hand stretched out toward me. My heart leapt into my throat and I scrambled back toward the dresser. Jesus, monster under the bed?! It took me a few seconds to register that this looked like a normal human hand, now disappearing back into the darkness. Still, I was shaking when I crawled toward the bed.

  “Edie?” Kian asked.

  I let out a little scream, falling on my ass just before I reached the covers to pull them back. My heart nearly exploded too. Between my hammering pulse and the ringing in my ears, I could hardly breathe. Without speaking, I pointed. He dropped to his knees next to me and raised the blankets to reveal Aaron curled up in the fetal position on the dusty floor. His eyes were huge, and he seemed to be trembling.

  “Did something happen?” I reached for him and the reaction spooked him, so he scuttled back against the far wall out of reach. Perplexed, I shot a look at Kian.

  “He’s never done this before.” He flattened himself on the floor but didn’t make any sudden moves.

  The rasp of Aaron’s breathing was loud in the bedroom, fast and shallow, like he feared we were about to murder him. Nobody could fake the terror the kid was projecting. It crawled along my skin like a shadow, until I backed off. Kian had spent more time with him; maybe he could calm the boy down.

  “Everything’s okay,” he said soothingly. “Just come out and we’ll talk.”

  Aaron didn’t respond, not even to blink. Dread pooled in the pit of my stomach, hot as pitch. I backed off a little more to see if the tinnitus abated but the incessant noise whined on at a level that sent sharp sparks of pain through my skull. Kian didn’t seem to hear it, which made me wonder why I’d acquired this immortal sensor when he’d spent so much time with Wedderburn. Did you build up immunity over time, so you just didn’t notice it? Or maybe the human brain became selectively perceptive in some kind of self-defense mechanism.

  I couldn’t have said how long we crouched on the floor, patient like Aaron were a wild animal. Kian never budged. Toward the end of our vigil, impatience scratched around inside me. Dammit, I don’t have time for this. I have to find my dad.

  “Who are you?” Aaron finally whispered, one fist pressed against his chest. “What is this place? And what am I doing here?”

  DIMENSIONAL X-RAY SPECS ARE TOTALLY A THING

  At first it was almost impossible to convince Aaron that we wouldn’t hurt him. Kian coaxed him for like half an hour before he crawled out from under the bed, wide-eyed and trembling. The last thing we needed was more problems but we couldn’t just say, Okay, you have amnesia, good luck with that, and shove him out the door. He’d always been weird but this was over that line into bizarro territory.

  “What do we do?” I asked as Kian reached for the kid.

  When the boy burrowed under his arm, trembling like a bird, I got the sense that he recognized Kian as a protector, even if he couldn’t recall interacting with him. I stood up slowly, careful not to
startle him. Kian met my gaze and lifted one shoulder in a helpless shrug. We’d gotten him medical attention and had been trying to find his family, up until we realized he was a refugee from time, but I had zero ideas how to address something like this.

  “Maybe we should call Raoul?” he suggested.

  That seemed like the best move. He had more experience with this supernatural stuff. He’d been working for Wedderburn for a couple of decades when he got the order from his boss in the Black Watch. So maybe he’d heard of some freaky shit that could result in sudden amnesia? Not that Aaron had seemed completely normal when we stole him from the Harbinger. A chill shivered through me as I considered that this could be me, if I’d been dumb enough to agree to the trickster’s insane proposal.

  “I’ll do it.” He was off finding gym space where we could all train without Buzzkill deeming the place too suspicious to let me enter alone, but—“Wait, maybe Buzzkill could tell us what’s going on with Aaron. He’s part of their world anyway.”

  Kian stared at me with horrified fascination. “You want to invite that thing in?”

  I shook my head quickly. “We’ll take Aaron to meet him. He’s lurking outside anyway, making sure Dwyer & Fell don’t murder me while Wedderburn tracks my dad down.”

  “How can you say his name so calmly?” I heard the unspoken part of the question—when he killed your mother.

  Letting out an unsteady breath, I held out a hand to reveal how badly I was shaking. “I’m so angry that I can’t stand it. I pretty much always am. But right now I’m still positioning my pieces and building my strength. Going after Wedderburn would be the last mistake I ever made—with the Harbinger raging and the opposition coming at me. Right now I need his resources because I still have a chance to save my dad. Choosing revenge at this moment might reduce my chances of getting him back safe, which I know Wedderburn wants because of the timeline.”

  “Wow,” Kian said. “I don’t know if I could be so logical in your situation.”

  “It’s not easy. I don’t want anything to do with Wedderburn. But I’ll do whatever I have to, including deal with him or Buzzkill or Allison Vega. Whoever can help me most, well, I’m not too proud to take a knee.”

  “Okay then.” Turning to Aaron, he murmured to him, until the boy nodded.

  He seemed really disoriented, having trouble focusing his eyes. Kian dressed him for the outdoors like a much younger child. Aaron stood quiescent while being bundled in coat, hat, and gloves. I put on my winter gear too and went out, waiting for Buzzkill to show himself. Pacing, I watched the quiet street; not many people were out as the day waned toward evening. Lights were on in other apartments and the weather was chill and gray, hinting at precipitation. I’d never see snowflakes as beautiful again, only evidence of Wedderburn’s power.

  Eventually, Buzzkill approached in bodyguard skin. He seemed more annoyed than curious. “You’ll freeze out here.”

  “Would that be problematic for you?”

  “Well, yeah. People dying on my watch, that only happens after the order comes in.”

  “So you’d still slice me up?”

  He showed yellow teeth and lifted his briefcase. “With pleasure.”

  I’d known that but it was pretty unnerving to realize he could imagine turning me into meat, even as he shadowed me to keep the opposition away. I wondered if he knew about Cameron, a weight in my coat pocket that made me something more than human. Though I feared using that spirit strength because the rush hit me like a drug, it also reassured me that I wasn’t completely powerless anymore.

  “I need your help,” I said, ignoring the fact that he was trying to freak me out. “There’s a café two blocks down where we can talk.”

  “Are you seriously asking me for coffee?” A smirk gave him a truly disturbing air.

  “Yep.” Turning, I beckoned to Kian, who was standing at the top of the steps with Aaron, who looked absolutely terrified.

  He hid his face in Kian’s shoulder, unable to speak for a few seconds.

  “Do you see it?” the boy whispered eventually.

  Surprised, I took another look at Buzzkill, whose face was visibly wavering, like he was having a hard time holding his illusion in place, this close to Aaron. The result was a disturbing flicker at his head, similar to damaged old celluloid film. Nausea flooded me as his monstrous clown visage popped at random intervals, trippy as hell.

  “What the hell is that thing?” Buzzkill demanded, backing away from the kid.

  Kian and I traded looks. Then I answered, “We rescued him from the Harbinger. Isn’t he a normal kid?”

  “I think you already know the answer to that. Look, we can’t go to a neighborhood coffee shop. I’ll give everyone in there a psychotic break.” He seemed to read my expression because he added, “Yeah, normally, that’d be funny as hell but I’m under orders to be inconspicuous.”

  “There’s Cuppa Joe,” Kian reminded Buzzkill.

  “Good idea.” That was where Kian first made me an offer I couldn’t refuse, and he’d said the place was company owned. Which meant we might find other creepy things waiting for us there, but they should be aligned with Wedderburn, and we weren’t trying to keep Aaron a secret from him.

  “I’ll get the Mustang,” Kian said. “Wait here.”

  Aaron tried to follow and I took his hand to stop him. It surprised me how cold he was; I could feel it radiating even through his gloves, an inhuman sort of burn that whispered of corpses and frozen boys crawling through the snow with burning blue eyes. When he swiveled his head to look at me, I trembled and tried not to shrink away. Buzzkill showed no such delicacy; he gave the kid a wide berth as we moved past him. White flakes spattered down, lazily guttering from the gray clouds above. Everything in the world was sepia or silent movie, except for Kian’s car and his green, green eyes. I got in back with Aaron while Buzzkill rode shotgun.

  “You can talk on the way,” our scary driver invited.

  So we told him the abridged version of events, ending with Aaron’s current state. Buzzkill didn’t say a word, which surprised me. He was psychotic but a surprisingly good listener, a quality you didn’t expect in a killer clown. Once Kian stopped talking, Buzzkill angled in his seat to take a closer look at Aaron, who cowered against me. I didn’t blame him; the evil clown face was still pulsing in subliminal strobe, whispering against his illusion of normalcy.

  “He smells human underneath,” Buzzkill said. “But there’s something else too.”

  Buzzkill slipped a pair of spectacles on, stared at the kid, and then shuddered. That did not bode well. Quietly, so as not to alarm the kid, I took off one of his gloves and wrapped my hand around his. He thought I was trying to warm him up and gave me a grateful smile. Guilt battered my casual façade because I was actually feeling for a pulse at his wrist. For few seconds, I thought he was dead and it took all my self-control not to scream and fling myself against the opposite side of the car. But then I found it, very slow and sluggish, like I’d expect from a person with hypothermia. But he wasn’t showing any of the other symptoms.

  What the hell is going on?

  The killer clown didn’t say anything else until we got to Cuppa Joe. As before, the place was populated with elderly people yet I didn’t think they were human, something about their eyes and teeth and the veins in their hands hinted at monstrous otherness. The same waitress from before greeted Kian with a warm smile, Buzzkill less so, and she was neutral when she studied Aaron and me. Going over the specials, she seated us at a back booth, away from everyone else. That was probably wise.

  “What can I get you?”

  “Bloody virgin,” Buzzkill said.

  “You think this is a bar?” Shirl demanded.

  “I said virgin, didn’t I?”

  The woman sighed but wrote it down. I asked for hot chocolate and Aaron just nodded. I took that to mean he wanted the same. Kian got coffee. Then she went off to leave the ticket for the kitchen, spiking it onto the spinning wheel
. This diner was so retro. We waited for our drinks because there was no point getting into it, only to be interrupted. Once we had our beverages, I took a sip, because while the patrons here might be creepy, they had a great kitchen. Buzzkill stirred his eerily red cocktail with a celery stalk, making me wonder if it was virgin’s blood.

  “Go on,” I encouraged.

  “Something’s latched on to him, something old.”

  My thoughts sprang immediately to the Harbinger because I remembered how he’d fed on Nicole and how he planned to devour Kian’s essence entirely. But, no, that didn’t track. While Nicole grew pale and listless, she never forgot who she was. So it stood to reason that whatever had a hold of Aaron, it wasn’t Harbinger related.

  “Do you know what it is?” Kian asked.

  Good question.

  Buzzkill shook his head. “It’d be faster if you just put on the glasses.”

  Reaching across the table, I took them. They looked like plain aviator shades, but they couldn’t be, if they’d help me understand the thing feeding on Aaron’s memories. Taking a deep breath, I slipped them on and glanced over at the boy. I barely swallowed a scream. The rest of the world paled, became distant and two-dimensional, but at the base of his neck, something hideous perched. It was grotesque and swollen, throbbing with energy that swirled in awful violet and citrine swirls. With each pulse, it felt like I was watching it draw Aaron’s soul out through his brain stem, though the answer probably wasn’t that simple.

  “What the hell,” I breathed, yanking off the glasses with a trembling hand.

  Kian took them, and to his credit, he handled the revelation better, though he paled.

  Aaron glanced between us, obviously confused. “Am I sick?”

  “Kind of,” I said, as Kian answered, “Don’t worry about it.”

  This time the look we swapped was loaded with contention. I could tell Kian thought we shouldn’t let him know he had a huge, crazy-ass problem latched on to his skull, but I couldn’t see any benefit to hiding the truth. Buzzkill clearly didn’t care about the kid’s feelings, and I was worried that I leaned toward agreeing with the killer clown. Feelings wouldn’t save Aaron.