Quick Fix (26 page)

But I was beginning to suspect I wouldn’t get the chance, not if Brian found her first.

“Brian—” I started. His eyes stopped me. For a guy who’d never been able to wrap his mind around violence, he looked like he was ready to rip into red meat with his bare teeth. The puppy had been replaced by a Rottweiler.

“Mark,” he said, “take Ciel and Molly back to the lab. I’ll meet you there later. You can go out the back way—no one will see you.”

Mark’s eyes matched my brother’s for hardness. The look wasn’t nearly as jarring on him. “As long as you don’t do anything stupid.”

“She’s using me, Mark. She played me for a fool.”

“Doesn’t matter now. I need her if I’m going to figure out what the hell is going on. Maybe you better let me take care of her.”

“
No.
I’ll get her and bring her to you. One way or another.” Brian turned to leave, not even saying good-bye to me or Molly.

“Hey, Bri,” Mark said to his back.

Brian paused, then responded without taking his eyes off the exit in front of him. “What?”

“Save me something to question.”

Brian’s only answer was to leave, slamming the door behind him.

“Mark, what are you thinking? You can’t let him go after her—that’s
Brian,
for gosh sakes! He doesn’t
do
confrontation.”

“Relax, Howdy. He won’t find her, and he needs to blow off steam. Let him.”

“How can you know that?” I said.

“Call it a hunch.”

“You’re going to risk letting my brother mix it up with a possible killer because of a
hunch
?”

He gathered up Molly and herded me toward the door. “My hunches tend to be reliable.”

*   *   *

“So,” I said to Mark once we were in his car (a Volvo this time) and Molly was safely buckled into the built-in booster seat in back, fast asleep. “There’s something else I should probably tell you before we get to the lab.”

He gave me a sidelong glance. “Do I really want to know?”

“James is invisible.”

His double take was strangely satisfying. It wasn’t easy to surprise Mark. “Explain,” he ordered as he pulled into traffic. He appeared to be weighing the likelihood of this kind of additional complication against the possibility that I’d just gone crazy.

I sighed. “It’s true. He was testing some new antidote for Molly on himself before giving it to Molly—something that was supposed to make an adaptor drop a secondary aura—and I guess he took too much. Or else, since he can only project his own aura, that’s the one he dropped. So now he’s projecting no aura at all—he’s invisible.”

“Are you
sure
?”

“Geez, Mark, I saw him—or rather,
didn’t
see him—with my own eyes. Yes, I’m sure.”

“Permanent?”

“He doesn’t think so, but who knows?”

Mark drove in silence for a while, digesting the latest bit of weirdness. When I couldn’t take listening to my own thoughts any longer, I asked, “Have you heard from Billy? I left him a message, too, but…”

His mouth tightened the slightest bit. When he spoke, his voice was carefully neutral. “I haven’t heard from Billy. I was hoping you had.”

“Not a word,” I said, trying to sound casual, which wasn’t easy, considering how worried I was. “Maybe he’s with Thomas,” I suggested, not especially hopeful.

“Tom hasn’t heard from him, either. He never showed up to discuss his defense strategy, which, as you might imagine, isn’t sitting well with your oldest brother.”

Oh, I could imagine all right. “I thought Tom went to see Laura.”

“He’s with her now. Said to tell Billy—if I can find him—that if he misses his court date, he’d better just retire his primary aura for good, because he was through with him.”

“Thomas wouldn’t do that. Hell, I’ll fill in for Billy in court if he can’t be there,” I said.

That only made Mark’s mouth go even tighter. “And possibly wind up being hauled to jail yourself? That won’t be happening.”

I thought about pointing out he had no say in what I would or wouldn’t be doing, but decided against it. Why get all heated about it now when it might not even be necessary?

Mark parked in the same garage as he had before, the same space, in fact. If he was thinking about the kiss, though, it didn’t show. My heart thumped harder as I hurried out of the car and busied myself unbuckling the sleeping Molly’s seat belt.

Whoa … wait a second
. Was it my imagination, or did Molly-O suddenly seem a little more Molly and a little less “O”? I turned on the interior light to get a better look. She was definitely less furry. Her nose was back to normal, and her eyelashes were back, too. As I watched, her own mouth appeared, followed by her hair.

“She’s changing back!” I whisper-yelled, afraid waking her might somehow stall the process.

Mark was right behind me, leaning over me, pulling me out of the way. He didn’t make a sound as we watched Molly waver between auras, finally settling into her own. Hastily, I slipped off my lightweight jacket and covered her. If she woke up and found herself naked she’d be mortified.

“God, I hope it sticks,” I said quietly.

“You and me both, Howdy,” Mark said with one of his rare smiles. My breath caught in my throat. I was going to have to work harder at not melting every time he did that.

Fortunately, he didn’t notice my reaction because he was already bending over to pick up Molly, careful to keep her well covered by the jacket. She sighed in her sleep, and reached up to put her arms around his neck, snuggling against his chest.

I was
not
jealous.

Gaaah.
Okay, I was, but only a little. And it faded when I thought about Billy, whose chest was the one I really wanted to be snuggled up against. It was Billy I was missing. Billy I was so worried about I wanted to cry in frustration, or maybe hit something.

“Come on, Howdy. Let’s get her in and show James the good news.”

“If we can find him,” I said wryly.

Chapter 21

James didn’t open the door, not even after I started pounding on it.

“He can’t have gone home,” I said. “He knew I’d be bringing Molly back here after the show. Wait a sec. I’ll call him.” But his cell went directly to voice mail.

Mark shifted Molly to one arm and reached into his pocket for a set of keys. He used one, combined with a code he punched into the keypad, and pressed his thumb against a biometric pad for good measure. Nobody could accuse James of being lax on security. I wasn’t surprised Mark could get in—he’d been the one to set it up.

“James!” I called out as soon as I was through the door. No answer. And the place felt … empty.

Mark carried Molly to the alcove and laid her on the sofa while I walked the perimeter of the lab. Nothing.

Molly’s voice drew me. “I’m back. I’m me again!” Her joy was infectious, and for a minute it stopped my other worries.

“Hey there, Molly. Good to see
you
again,” I said.

She jumped up and ran to me, holding the jacket around her while she hopped up and down. “Look at me, look at me!”

Yes, I hopped, too, hugging her close to me at the same time. “Oh, Molly. I’m so happy. Don’t you ever scare me like that again!”

She giggled. “Hey, it wasn’t my idea. Where’s James? I want to show him—he worked so hard to fix me.”

I met Mark’s eyes over Molly’s head. He shrugged and said, “He must’ve stepped out for a minute. I’m sure he’ll be back soon. In the meantime, why don’t you get dressed?”

“I left you some clothes in the supply closet, Molls. You can change in there,” I said.

Her eyes twinkled at me, so much like her brother my heart contracted. “You won’t lock me in, will you?”

“So, you remember everything, do you?” I laughed. “No, you’re safe. I could never be that rotten to
you
.”

She flashed me the Doyle forgive-me smile (even harder to resist than the Doyle eyes) and skipped away. After she was gone, I said to Mark quietly, “Look, if James is still invisible, he could be here somewhere. Asleep, or maybe even unconscious.”
Or worse,
I thought, but refused to say it out loud, as if voicing it would make it so.

Mark nodded. “You start on the other side. Make sure you step on every floor tile not covered by something solid—we should be able to feel him if he’s here.”

I swept a foot in front of me before each step, taking care not to step on anything I couldn’t see. Mark did the same.

“Ciel, Mark—come quick!” Molly’s voice rang out from inside the closet.

I was the nearest, so I got there first, but Mark was only a second behind, despite having to travel twice the distance. Molly was wearing her own shorts and T-shirt, and had one sandal on. She pointed the other toward the back corner, a look of horrified fascination on her face. “Is that…” she said.

“James,” I finished, and ran to the corner. He was barely conscious, and kind of … translucent. His aura must have been reappearing, and it didn’t look like the process was agreeing with him. He’d been dressing himself when he’d passed out.

Mark reached over me and placed two fingers on his neck. “His pulse is steady, but weak. We need to get him to a doctor.”

“What? Like
that
?” I said.

“Not just any doctor, obviously. Dr. Frankel—do you have his number?”

“But Dr. Frankel is
ancient,
” Molly said. “Older than Granddad, even. He was practically shuffling the last time Mom took me to see him. Plus, he smells funny.”

I knew I should call Molly on her rudeness, but honestly? She was right. Dr. Frankel did shuffle, and he smelled like mothballs. Who kept their sweaters in mothballs anymore? But he
was
an adaptor—if his ability hadn’t faded entirely with age—and so wasn’t likely to be shocked by James’s see-through appearance.

“He’s probably asleep,” I said, but got out my phone and dialed anyway. Mom checked all of our phones regularly to make sure Dr. Frankel was in our contacts, because who knew when one of us might come down with the plague unexpectedly? If we got delirious with fever and started spontaneously adapting, we needed access to a doctor who would understand.

“I’m sure he’s used to emergencies,” Mark said, already bending down to help James to his feet.

“What happened to him?” Molly asked, referring to James.

“A slight problem with something he was testing,” I said, counting the rings.
Pick up already, Dr. Frankel. If you’re still breathing …

“I wonder if it was that adaptor potion I heard him talking to Monica about,” Molly mused, her curiosity for the moment outweighing her concern.

I almost dropped my phone. “What? When did you hear—”

“Your phone, Ciel,” Mark cut in, and when I just stared at him, he continued. “It’s talking.”

Crap.
I brought it back up to my ear. “Dr. Frankel? Is that you?… Yeah, yeah, I know it’s the middle of the night.… Yes, I’m aware of how old you are, and that you need your sleep, but this is an emergenc—what? Oh. Ciel Halligan … yeah,
those
Halligans.”

“Why am I in the closet?” James’s eyes had opened halfway, and his words were a bit mushy.

“That’s what we’d like to know,” Mark said as he worked to keep him steady.

I tried to focus on what the doctor was saying. “No, it’s not about me. It’s James. There’s something wrong with him.…
James.
Yes, that James … Of course I know he’s not an adaptor. I’m his sister, for Christ’s sake.… Sorry! Yes, I
know
I shouldn’t take the Lord’s name in vain.… Yes, my mother
did
teach me better than that. Geez, I said I was sorry, now will you just listen for a second?”

Mark started walking James slowly toward the door. “Molly, grab that hat, will you? And the coat. We have to get him covered up before we go out.”

“No, Dr. Frankel, I don’t care if James is a nonadaptor, we can’t take him to a regular doctor.
Because,
that’s why. Look, just get ready for us, okay? I’ll explain when we get there!” I hung up before he could voice any more objections. “Can somebody please tell me why the whole fuck—er, flipping adaptor community only has one freaking doctor?”

Molly cocked her head. “Hey, maybe
I’ll
be a doctor. If I’m not a lawyer like Thomas, or a fixer, like you, Ciel.” Apparently, “primatologist” had lost its charm.

*   *   *

“The boy’s having difficulty displaying his primary aura.”

My, what an astute observation,
I thought, seriously wondering if bringing James here to see Dr. Frankel was worse than doing nothing at all.

The man, well known—and more than a little feared—by everyone in the adaptor community, was leaning his large frame so heavily on his tripod cane it was a wonder the thing didn’t warp beneath him. His robe looked older than me, and his lambskin slippers should have been put out to pasture decades ago.

We were at the good doctor’s office, located at his home in an old Brooklyn neighborhood of detached, single-family houses. He’d converted the dining room of the large, brick bungalow into an examination room, and James was lying on the antique exam table. You could see right through his head to a wrinkle in rolled-out white paper beneath it.

“Um, yes,” I said. “That’s why we brought him to see you instead of a civilian doctor.”

“Don’t get pert with me, missy.” He shook a knobby finger at me. “I brought you into this world, as well as your brother here. That little scamp, too.” He pointed his arthritic digit at Molly, and then gave Mark a once-over, squinting his eyes. “Him I don’t recall. Are you sure he’s one of us?”

Mark lifted one corner of his mouth a fraction, and slid through a series of some of his more outlandish auras, holding each one for about a second.

“Quite sure,” I said.

The good doctor harumphed, not impressed, and turned his attention back to James, who had passed out again. “Now, this …
this
is not natural. I’ve known this boy since he was born, and he has never given any indication of an aura anomaly. Unlike the rest of you hooligans.”