Firebug (35 page)

He curled his fingers, making loose fists. “I was supposed to watch you,” he said.

“Spy, you mean.”

He shrugged, as if one word were exactly like the other.

“If you were just supposed to spy, why take me to the Inferno? Why drug me?”

“Venus changed her mind—wanted me to bring you in unprepared. I thought maybe if I could give her more, it would speed up my initiation, so I said sure. Then everything went sideways, and I was supposed to help salvage it. Get you drunk. Make you more compliant and bring you back down to fix things. Only you don't drink. There was no way to get you to drink.” He wrapped his hands around his shins, using his knees as a pillow. “And you kept trying to leave,” he said, his voice quiet.

“So drugs seemed like a good solution.”

“You kept trying to leave! You wouldn't listen! Wouldn't do what I said.” His voice got louder with each statement.

I closed my eyes, like somehow that would stop the answer coming next. “The earrings? Were they bugged?”

“Brittany's idea. She's like me. Her dad's an incubus, but she bred human.” The room fell silent as we studied each other. “We thought things would go better if we worked together.”

“Well, you wanted to be a monster, Ryan. I'd say mission accomplished.” I cupped my hands in front of me and called a spark, willing Ryan to not notice how it sputtered when it came to life. I was still worn thin from Venus.

“I almost lost everyone I love just so you could join the supersecret clubhouse.” My flame got bigger. “You…” I shook my head. “You know what? I'm not going to waste my breath on you.” I made the flame shift hotter so that he could feel the warmth of it, even curled in the corner of his bed. “Except to say this: If you ever come near me or mine again, I'll make you understand just how human you are. Understand?”

He didn't answer. He just closed his eyes and turned his face away from me. I'd made my point, so I let the flame go out. I wondered if he'd ever be close to the old Ryan again, or at least what I thought of as the old Ryan. Who knows what he's actually like. No matter what, he'd never be the same. He'd have nights where he'd wake up in a cold sweat, screaming. He'd dream of fire. Of blood. Venus would be the goddess she was named after. I'd be the dark thing trying to pull him into the cellar.

Ryan was tainted now.

I made for the door, but the sound of his voice made me turn back to him.

“He'll come for me.”

“Who?” I asked, my hand on the knob.

“Owen. He'll come for me.” Ryan wrapped his arms around himself and hugged tight. “Owen will take me to her. I won't go back. Not to my father's. I can't.”

A chill crept through the room. “She's dead, Ryan. Venus is dead.” So was Owen. I didn't have the heart to tell him that. Not yet. He wouldn't believe me anyway. “And you are going home. Back to where you belong.”

When Lock carried me out of the forest that night, I'd seen the bright orange blaze in the sky. I hadn't realized what it meant at the time: Owen had gone nova. Venus's death was too much for him. He'd been her pet, and without his master, he'd skipped the slow-pining-to-death thing and gone straight to self-immolation.

Owen hadn't had a Lock to stop him. He'd only had an Alastair to put out the flames before the whole island went. A wave of gratitude for my friends welled up in me. My new ones. My old ones. My oldest one. I would be dead without them all. I guess sometimes it pays to let people get close to you.

But, then, sometimes it doesn't. I left Ryan mumbling to himself in Grandma Rose's bedroom. I didn't know who he was talking to, but it wasn't me. It would never be me again.

I got all the way outside before I realized that he'd never once said he was sorry. It was probably the most honest conversation we'd ever had.

19

T
HE
M
ORE
T
HINGS
C
HANGE …

ALISTAIR GAVE ME
a whole week off to recuperate. I guess almost dying doesn't buy you much time in the Coterie. I'd thought my part in the organization was done. No Venus, no pact. But I was wrong.

At the end of the week I received a summons from Alistair: My presence was requested at the Inferno. I thought about ignoring it, but then I remembered how Alistair had looked walking across that clearing, storm clouds building up behind him, his short hair whipping in the wind as lightning flashed and thunder crowed.

Ignoring him probably wouldn't work out well. Cade drove me down in the pickup. Angela had told him that he was my dad before we left her forest. We'd been sort of dancing around each other all week. We hadn't been able to talk about it yet. I think we were still processing. All those years I wanted to meet my dad and now here he was and I didn't know what to do. And knowing each other so well was actually making it more awkward. We already had a set relationship—a nice, comfortable one—and now that had suddenly shifted. And since there was no bookshop to go to anymore, there was nothing to get between the awkwardness and us.

I suppose I should have just been happy that my dad wasn't Darth Vader.

The Inferno looked exactly the same. I don't know why I expected it to look different, but I did. Someone should at least have put up an “Under New Management” sign or something. Ezra met us at the door. For once he didn't pick me up and whirl me around—the crutches got in the way of that. But he managed to kiss me on the cheek, and then he told me I owed him towing fees for his car.

“Take a gander at the staff,” he said. “Recognize anyone?”

I did. I recognized some people from the battle—people who had fought on our side. And there were some others, staff I knew by face and not by name, who were conspicuously absent.

“Regime change,” Ezra said. “Alistair is cleaning house. Speaking of which…” He turned to lead, giving Cade and me a little come-hither crook with his hand. Out of habit, I'd been heading toward the elevators, down into the pits, so to speak. But that's not where Ezra was taking me. He was leading me through the maze of the restaurant, weaving around tables like walking with crutches was second nature. Cade and I were led to a secluded booth in the back of Purgatory. Alistair sat alone on one side of it, his sleeves rolled up, his hair slightly ruffled like he'd been running his hands through it. Papers covered the table. A few stacks had begun to emerge, but it appeared that Alistair was still sorting the majority of it.

“Venus apparently didn't even have an office,” he said without looking up. “What a ridiculous way to run an empire. Luckily, what with your handiwork marring much of the downstairs, I need to remodel anyway.”

“It's not like it's a regular company,” I said. “It's the Coterie.” I felt like those three words answered a lot of questions. But maybe they meant something different now. Something better.

Alistair waved Ezra away. “Tell someone to bring us food. Not you. You go get off that leg.” He waited until Ezra complied before continuing. “The Coterie is more like a giant corporation, and as such, organization is even more necessary. The head of the Coterie is basically the CEO of a company that owns several other businesses.”

“To me the head of the Coterie has always seemed more like a deranged despot covered in the blood of her own people than a stiff in a suit.”

“Despot, CEO, there are a lot of similarities.” Alistair finally looked up. He stared at Cade and me, his hands folded together, the fingers loosely interlocking. He leaned into his folded hands so all I could see was the top half of his face as he peered at us. “How are you feeling, Mr. Halloway? Better, I hope?”

“Much better.” Cade fingered a bruised spot on his ribs, unconsciously, I think. “I'd like to thank you for your part in my rescue. Things would have ended poorly without your aid, I understand.”

I winced inwardly at his choice of words. Yes, of course Alistair's role was pivotal, but you don't admit to the head of the Coterie that you're indebted to him. It's about as safe as filling your pants full of chum and jumping into shark-infested water.

Alistair waved it away like it was nothing. “Forget it. Let us not hamper our new relationship with such debts and tallies.”

Warning bells chimed in my ears. “New relationship?”

Alistair leaned back into the booth. I didn't like the expression on his face.

“No relationship,” I said firmly, my hands gripping the edge of the table. “My pact was with Venus. She's gone. Therefore, so is my pact.”

Alistair pulled a file out of one of the neat stacks and tossed it in front of me. “Your paperwork clearly states that you belong to the Coterie. Read it, if you like.”

“I do like,” I said, opening the file. Cade leaned over to read it as well, even though we'd been over it a hundred times. I'd always assumed that Venus was the Coterie, that the pact was null and void without her. A stomach-twisting shudder went through me as I read. I didn't have to search for long. Alistair had highlighted all the relevant bits, which I felt was very organized of him.

“As you are no doubt discovering, your pact clearly says you belong to this organization, which I now embody.” He said it calmly, still comfortably at ease on his side of the booth. I wanted to smack his serene face.

My hands were shaking as I handed the papers to Cade. “I guess I always thought Venus and the Coterie were one and the same.”

“Yes and no,” Alistair said. “Like I said, she was the CEO—or the despot.” He smiled a tight-lipped smile. “But the company doesn't lose its assets when the CEO steps down, just like the country doesn't lose its resources when a despot has been tumbled.” A waiter appeared with a basket of rolls and drinks, earning a smile from Alistair for his effort. “To be completely honest, your pact paperwork is littered with vague terminology like this. Had we met prior to you signing it, I would have recommended a lawyer. I'm assuming you didn't have anyone look at it?”

I shook my head.

“All the local nonhuman lawyers are Coterie owned,” Cade said.

Alistair nodded sympathetically. “Look, I feel bad for you two—obviously you were bullied into an unfair arrangement.” He pulled a piping hot roll out of the basket. “But I would be stupid not to make use of all my assets.” He tore the bread slowly before buttering it. “I am not stupid,” he said, his gaze meeting mine. “Ava, I'm sure you came in here thinking you were a free bug, and I do apologize for crushing that dream, but I'm afraid that I'm not in the position to be magnanimous about this. So far things have been going smoothly, but as word gets out, that will change. The head of the Coterie is a tempting position, and many will try their luck and come at me. Things will get messy. I need to be prepared for that.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but Alistair stayed me with a hand. “We're still in the early days.” He tapped one of the larger stacks of paper next to him. “I am, as Ezra might have mentioned, cleaning house. Despite her … charms … Venus had some very loyal followers. I'm giving some of them a chance to switch alliances. A few of them will refuse. Still more of them are too dangerous and unstable to even consider.”

My blood chilled as I anticipated where he was going with this. “You want me to burn out the rats.”

“Yes,” he said, his eyes dark. He sighed and pushed the basket of bread toward me, but I didn't feel hungry anymore. Not that it mattered. I would need to eat anyway. “I know you won't believe me, but I will be a different leader than Venus.”

“Different isn't always better,” Cade said.

“No, it's not,” Alistair said, his uneaten roll resting on a plate in front of him. “But I feel I have things to offer you that she would not.”

“Like?” Cade asked. My throat felt thick, making talking difficult.

“Ava, you and your team have received back pay for your services—don't argue,” he said, before I could even open my mouth. It was going to be hard to get a word in edgewise with Alistair. “It's your money. You've more than earned it, and you will continue to draw a paycheck while you remain in the Coterie. What you do with it now doesn't concern me. Burn it if you wish, though I think that would be a tremendous waste, and it certainly wouldn't change how you earned it. And wasting the money won't bring those creatures back, Ava. It won't assuage any guilt you have festering in the corners of your soul. I suggest you use it to rebuild your bookstore. Even with good coverage, insurance won't handle everything. If that doesn't appeal to you, you can donate it wherever you see fit. That's all I will say on the matter.”

He handed me another file.

I didn't open it—I was afraid to see what was inside.

“It won't bite, Ava. It's not an assignment.”

“What is it, then?” I asked.

“Think of it as an offering—a little something to try to make up for not releasing you from your pact.”

“I don't want it,” I said automatically.

I got an amused twist of lips and a single raised eyebrow. “Not taking it will do nothing to me, Ava. It won't change your situation; just like taking it won't make you more indebted to me or the Coterie. Take it or don't. Simple as that.”

Yeah, right. I opened the folder. Alistair was telling the truth—it wasn't an assignment. I picked up a battered and worn piece of paper which looked like it had been folded, stored, shoved into pockets—all the things you do with paperwork that you have to carry your whole life. It was a birth certificate, and whoever forged it had been smart enough to make it look like it had seventeen years of wear.

“I used the birthday Lock gave me. From what I've been told that probably isn't the real one, and if you wish, I will try to discover what the proper one is. Someone had to deliver you, Ava. There were witnesses.”