Firewalker (9 page)

His eyes adjusted, and he saw Lillian looking at him through the bars of his cell. Carrick was very good at reading faces, even a face that was still healing from burns as hers was. Lillian kept her expression blank, but he could still see loathing behind her calm eyes. And something odd that he couldn't quite place. Her eyes were turned in on herself. She barely took him in at all.

“You have talent,” she said dully. “A lot of talent.”

“Runs in the family,” he replied in his deep, quiet voice.

Lillian nodded, her eyes wandering away from him, like she barely cared that he had hurt another version of her and would have hurt her if it had been her willstone he'd held in his hand.

“Can you spirit walk?” Her eyes flicked back to his and narrowed in warning. “And don't lie to me.”

“No,” he replied, stunning himself with his own honesty. “But I was told by the shaman that I had the ability.”

“What happened?”

“He refused to train me.” Carrick tried to hold her detached and puzzling gaze, but he couldn't. He didn't understand her, and he didn't like that. Carrick was used to understanding what people wanted and gaining the advantage by manipulating their desires. With Lillian, he didn't have the foggiest idea what she intended.

“Can you feel Rowan?” she said, cocking her head to the side.

Carrick searched inside himself. “He's very far away. Farther than he's ever been before. But I don't think he's dead.”

“Come closer,” Lillian said. “Right up against the bars.” Carrick did as she said. “Has any other witch claimed you?”

“No,” Carrick replied, still confused. He caught a flash of resignation in her eyes, and understanding dawned on him in an instant. “It's not me you loathe. It's
you
.”

“Get down on your knees.”

“Yes, My Lady,” Carrick said, sinking down in front of her.

 

CHAPTER

4

Over the next two days while Lily's skin went from a checkerboard of red patches to smooth, she kept her promise to herself. She didn't reach out to Lillian, even though she thought about it every time she was alone—which, thankfully, wasn't very often. Every time Rowan and Juliet left the house to shop for food or new clothes for Rowan, her mom seemed to appear, anxiously hovering nearby.

“It was a good thing that Rowan killed Gideon,” Samantha said out of the blue. Lily had just taken her morning shower and was trying to untangle her wet hair. Hearing Gideon's name made her hands stiffen. Her mom took the comb, her hands unsteady, and went to work on a knot at the back of Lily's head.

“Did you see what he did to me in the oubliette?” Lily asked, her voice low. She sat down at the vanity table and looked at her mother in the mirror.

“Yes. He and Carrick tortured you,” Samantha answered. She didn't meet Lily's eyes in the mirror, but instead focused on gently working one of Lily's knots free. “At least, I think it was the version of you that I raised. It's hard sometimes, you know. Hard to tell which of the millions of you is the one that
this me
raised.”

“I can't say I know exactly what you mean—not in the way you do—but I do understand.”

Tears welled up in her mother's eyes. She smiled through them bravely. “I've been called crazy for years, but do you know what crazy is? Crazy is being able to see what your daughter is going through, and not being able to do anything about it.”

“Mom, you saved me. And Rowan. You were the only one who was clearheaded enough to guide us home. To do that, you'd have to be the least crazy person I've ever met.”

Her mom nodded, but didn't look up. She kept untangling Lily's hair, smoothing each spiral curl between her fingers before moving patiently onto the next. Her mother had magic fingers when it came to Lily's riot of curls, which were now barely shoulder-length. A lot of her hair had burned away in the fire, but her hair grew unnaturally fast. No one fixed her troublesome mane like her mom did, and the familiar touch soothed them both.

“Gideon deserved to die,” Samantha said serenely. “Maybe Carrick does, too.” Her brow pinched. “The other Lillian claimed him, you know. The Lillian who stole you has claimed Carrick as her head mechanic. She's training him.”

“Do you know why she chose Carrick?” Lily asked, her back stiffening.

“I'm sorry but I don't. I can see into the worlds of my children, but I can only see directly around them as it happens. Like watching a million movies at once,” Samantha said, and smiled. Her smile fell and her tone went cold. “I don't share mindspeak.”

“Can't or won't?” Lily asked gently.

“Won't. Unless it's to save your life, like when I guided you back home.” Samantha finally met Lily's eyes in the mirror. “I would never burden any of you with what's in here,” she said, touching her temple. “It's too much.”

“Thank you,” Lily said quietly, knowing she would never be as strong as her mother.

“I love you, too, dear,” Samantha said, probably answering another version of Lily who had said “I love you” instead of “thank you” in a different universe. Samantha kissed Lily on the head and wandered out of the room.

Lily sat for a while, wondering if she should tell Rowan about Carrick. Bitterness swelled inside her. Lillian had nearly convinced her that she had Rowan's best interests at heart. But what possible reason could Lillian have for claiming Rowan's half brother, if not to hurt Rowan? It seemed like every time Lily started to understand Lillian, she learned some new unforgivable thing about her and hated her all over again.

Carrick was Rowan's only remaining blood relative, and in families where magic was strong, close blood relatives could mindspeak without using willstones or without becoming stone kin by touching each other's stones. Lily still hadn't deciphered all the different ways in which touching willstones was viewed in Rowan's world because it meant different things depending on how much magic each person was capable of, but Lily did know that the lesser the magic, the more superficial the bond. In the nightclub, Lily had seen how some people in Rowan's world touched each other's stones for a weekend thrill. For them, becoming stone kin wasn't very serious. The sensations exchanged and the bond that was created were temporary.

That was something Lily couldn't imagine. Touching willstones was a different matter for her, as it was for all mechanics, crucibles, and witches. As a witch, when Lily touched someone's willstone, she claimed that person for life. The only way to break out of that commitment would be for that person to smash his or her stone—something as painful as cutting off a limb.

Allowing oneself to be claimed by a witch or to become stone kin with a mechanic, where the bond was lifelong as well, was never something that people in Rowan's world took lightly, but it seemed Carrick knew little of what witches and mechanics were capable of. Carrick had spent his life Outland. He hadn't been around people with magic the way Rowan had. The way Lily figured it, Carrick must have had no idea that those with strong magic, like Rowan, could mindspeak with blood relatives without becoming stone kin. That ability was extremely rare, and not something that Carrick had ever encountered before.

Good thing for Lily, too. When Gideon kidnapped her, Rowan had found Lily by exploiting his blood bond with Carrick, and even though the two had never become stone kin, Rowan could see through his half-brother's eyes. He had spied on Carrick and found the oubliette without Carrick ever knowing that Rowan had piggybacked inside his mind. Could Carrick now do the same to Rowan? Lily stood very still, trying to think.

The doorbell rang, shaking Lily out of her worried thoughts. She heard her mother answer the door and an authoritative woman's voice drifting up the stairs. Right away, Lily didn't like the way this woman was talking to her mother. There was something pushy and condescending about her tone. Lily went downstairs, already in a fighting frame of mind. Samantha was standing in the doorway, blocking the entrance with her body.

“Ma? What's going on?” Lily called out as she came swiftly to her mother's side.

Samantha moved a bit to the side and revealed a tall, solid woman. Her brown hair was dyed a shade too dark and Lily could make out gray roots growing in at her temples. The woman narrowed her eyes at Lily, and the look on her face was almost triumphant. Like she'd just won something.

“She's not
that
sick, I see,” the woman said mockingly to Samantha as she tried to push her way inside.

“Who are you?” Lily asked, striding forward. “Mom, it's okay. I got this.” Lily put her hand on her mother's tense arm and stood next to her. Together they blocked the door, not allowing the woman to come inside.

“I'm Special Agent Simms, Lily, and I've been looking for you,” the woman answered. Her eyes skipped over Lily's face, the hash marks of Rowan's skin graft more apparent now that Lily was standing in the light coming through the doorway. It was obvious now that Lily
was
sick, and that some kind of treatment had been done to her skin. The agent's eyes pinched around the corners as she weighed a new strategy in her head.

“I've been recovering,” Lily said briskly.

“Yes. From radical subcutaneous exposure therapy,” Simms said dubiously.

“Yeah,” Lily said, pointing to the red marks on her face and arms. “It's been sort of hard on me, which is why I haven't been in touch with anyone. They say I'm supposed to limit my contact with foreign substances until I'm one hundred percent.” Lily pursed her lips, passively implying that Simms was a foreign substance.

“I completely understand,” Simms said, suddenly smiling. “You look like you've been through hell.”

Something flickered in Simms's eyes—a combination of pity and genuine concern. She could tell that something bad had happened to Lily, and more than curiosity drove her. Lily realized that Simms was a good person, even if she did rub Lily the wrong way.

“I'm feeling much better, actually,” Lily said honestly. “No more seizures.”

“That's wonderful.” Simms's fake smile flashed back on again and Lily's dislike for her rekindled. “I'm so glad to hear that you've made such a miraculous recovery, especially considering how worried we all were about you.”

“Thank you for your concern,” Lily said cautiously. She didn't know where Simms was going with this and she didn't trust her.

“So you'll be going back to school soon? I'm sure you're eager to graduate with your class,” Simms said smoothly. Lily hadn't thought about going back to school, and the very notion seemed ludicrous to her. Simms watched Lily's calm expression falter and smiled a
gotcha
smile. “That's why you got the treatment at such an odd time of year, right? You couldn't wait for summer break because it was your lifelong dream to walk with your class on graduation day. Or so I've been told.”

“Right,” Lily answered confidently, trying to recover from her misstep.

“Right,” Simms parroted. “Just like you didn't tell your friends you were going away for treatment because you wanted to surprise them.”

Lily kept her mouth shut. She knew Simms didn't buy a word of any of this, but it didn't matter. There had been no crime. All Lily had to do was stop talking and Simms wouldn't have anything to go on, but as the staring contest stretched out Lily started to understand what she was dealing with. Simms wasn't going to give up until she got an explanation she could live with—and maybe even a culprit to arrest.

“Well. I'll let you get back to healing from your ordeal,” Simms finally said. She turned to leave, and then swung back around as if something had just occurred to her. “Oh, Lily? What was the name of that miraculous clinic you went to? I can't seem to get a straight answer about that from anyone. I thought
you'd
be able to help me, considering you were there for three months.”

Lily's mouth parted and her mind went blank. Samantha spoke up to fill the void a second too late.

“I told you it was a holistic healing center on a Native American reservation, which is why it didn't show up as a hospital on your search. The name is hard to pronounce. It's Native, you know,” she said, her hands fluttering to her frizzy hair like startled birds. “I'll send the details to your e-mail address when I can.”

“When you can,” Simms repeated almost mockingly. She'd seen enough. “I'll be waiting. And I'll tell the superintendent of your school how excited you are to be coming back, Lily.” She looked Lily up and down. “You're so happy you're practically speechless, aren't you?”

Simms left them, but Lily didn't shut the door or turn away until her car had disappeared around the corner.

“Come inside, Lillian,” Samantha urged.

“Has that horrid woman been harassing you this whole time, Ma?” Lily asked angrily, following her inside. Her mother was shaking and her eyes skipped around like she couldn't settle her gaze on anything solid.

“She's been very persistent,” Samantha said, trying to smile comfortingly, but only managing a wan grimace.

Juliet and Rowan came rushing in the side door, just back from their trip to the market.

“Was that the FBI agent I saw at the end of the block?” Juliet asked. She plunked down a bag of groceries, her eyes wide.

“Yeah,” Lily replied. “Don't worry. She can't do anything to us.”

“Except keep harassing everyone, like she's been doing. Which is bad enough,” Rowan said, tipping his chin at Samantha.

Your mom can't handle this kind of scrutiny, Lily. She'll crack.

What should we do, Rowan? I can't make Simms go away.

“You need to get back to your normal life as soon as possible,” Rowan said aloud. “Blend in. Don't give the agent any more reason to be suspicious.”