Public Enemies (12 page)

He kept a level tone. “Do you mean what you said to the Harbinger?”

“No more chasing the bag man,” I said.

Without a plan.
That silent addendum changed everything. Yet I couldn't just forget about what happened to my mother without feeling even worse. There had to be a way to punish the guilty, even during the immortal game. I might have to make some deals, as Kian had, but I didn't plan to barter away my life. What else did I have of value? Maybe Raoul could guide me. In the confessional, he'd said he would tell me more next time, implying we'd meet again.

“Thank God.” Kian interrupted my quiet plot, deftly cleaning my wounds and applying antiseptic. A few Band-Aids patched me up enough to satisfy him, though he studied the scratches on my back long enough to make me wonder if there was something else going on. I shifted and glanced over my shoulder, but the wounds were shallow, normal bird-claw size.

“What are you looking at?”

He touched the bare skin of my shoulder blade lightly, sending a shiver through me. “I just hate that you're hurt. Means I didn't protect you. I got pissed off and—”

“If you didn't, you wouldn't be human,” I protested. “And I swear I've learned my lesson, being impulsive doesn't suit me.”

“I could stand for you to be a little reckless. With me.”

“What did you have in mind?”

In answer, he led me to his bedroom. My nerves prickled with excitement as Kian shut the door. Then he pushed me up against it, kissing me with a thrilling need. Longing sparked through me, compounded by the hovering awareness that I could lose him. Soon he might not be around to touch me at all. Everything Kian, gone, gone to feed the Harbinger. I tangled my fingers in his hair and stopped thinking entirely for a little while.

“I shouldn't push you,” he whispered against my lips.

“Mm. I'll let you know if it's a problem.”

We were just getting into it with him nudging me onto the bed when the spare bedroom door opened and closed. “Kian?”

Above me, he closed his eyes and groaned. “That kid…”

I laughed. “Makeup making out can wait, right?”

“Like I have a choice,” he muttered. “He's so needy. I wake up and half the time, he's sleeping across the foot of my bed like a spaniel.”

“Yeah, that's weird.”

Once Aaron settled down, we went into the living room and I stayed for dinner, telling myself my dad would eat something at the lab. The three of us ordered pizza; Aaron's expression while he devoured it suggested he'd never tasted anything so delicious. While I still didn't trust the kid 100 percent, he struck me as weirdly candid, like there was no way he could keep this up indefinitely with a hidden agenda.

It was ten when I got home. My dad was unlocking the door, but he didn't check the time or ask where I'd been. He gave me a half smile, eyes circled in shadows. His uneven scruff had evolved into an unkempt beard, and I could smell him. He took a step into the apartment and stumbled, either from weariness, lack of food, or maybe even booze.

Damn. This can't continue.

I blocked him from heading straight to his room. “You need a shower. And then we have to talk.”

“Not tonight,” he mumbled.

“If you ignore me again, I'm calling someone. A grief counselor. Somebody. Because you're not okay. You didn't even notice that I got hurt.” I showed him the ACE bandage around my ankle. If he'd been paying attention, he'd have noticed it over my tights. Once, he'd have registered that instantly.

“What happened?” he asked sharply.

“That's not the point. Go shower.”

To my shock, he went into the bathroom and the water came on. I closed my eyes for a few seconds, horrified.
We've switched places.
I sat down on the sofa to wait. When he came out, he hadn't shaved but he seemed to be clean. My dad should be mad at me by now; I'd treated him like a dumb kid.

Instead he was still blank, tired. “It's late, Edith. Say what you need to.”

“Remember when I asked you to be here for me?” At his blank look I added context. “That was on Christmas. Do you even know what
day
it is? Mom wouldn't want this.”

“And
I
don't want to live without her,” he burst out.

I froze. “Dad—”

“Don't worry.” He forced a smile, the least convincing lip rictus I'd ever seen. “I'm not on the verge of harming myself. I'm sorry if I scared you. Things are actually going well at the lab and I'm absorbed in work, that's all. I thought you were too occupied with Kian and your school friends to notice how busy I am.”

That most definitely wasn't true, but I had no evidence to dispute his word. Heart falling, I watched as he got up and trudged to his bedroom. The click told me I had been locked out. Again. Anger warred with worry as I stared at the wood. I walked over and pressed my palm to the door, willing him to get better.
Please, Dad. I can't do this on my own.
If he showed the slightest inclination, I might've even talked to him about my problem with Kian, some kind of theoretical challenge, maybe.
I could've said it was for some kind of gaming campaign. Where diabolical deals would make sense.

But there was no point wishing for help; Dad was barely treading water. I went into my room, feeling scared and alone, and I couldn't even text Kian without making him feel worse. Sharp pain lanced through my stomach, probably the beginnings of an ulcer. Rubbing my abdomen, I checked e-mail and replied to Ryu and Vi.

And in the morning, I skimmed my phone for the message I'd been waiting for, one from Raoul. He'd sent an address, along with:

4:30pm tomorrow. Come alone in workout gear. Make sure you're not followed.

 

BADASS IN TRAINING

The next day I headed out in sweats, a T-shirt, and winter coat, along with my Converse. I got off the subway three blocks from the address Raoul had provided. Maybe I should've messaged Kian, but if his mentor wanted him there, he'd be waiting, right? I stopped in front of an ominous brick building: three stories, most of the windows had been boarded up, and the front doors were chained, while also hung with the sign that read
CONDEMNED
. There was an older plaque on the side but the lettering was too faded for me to tell what had been here before they shut the place down.

“Seriously?” I mumbled.

“You're right on time,” a familiar voice said from behind me.

I whirled and got my first look at Raoul. He was an imposing man in his early fifties, sporting a well-groomed goatee and dark hair with silver at the temples, which crested the back of his neck. Dark eyes studied me, set in a weathered face, and his skin showed a Mediterranean-looking tan. He was handsome, though, and I saw why Kian had compared him to Ramirez from the Highlander series. Though he didn't actually resemble Sean Connery, he gave off the same air of impatient command, like he had something more important he should be doing.

Raoul wore gear similar to mine and he waved me forward, demonstrating how to duck under the chains and slip inside. “Come, I shouldn't be on the street in daylight any longer than absolutely necessary.”

“I thought you couldn't be tracked.”

“True. But one of the Harbinger's winged spies could spot me and he'd be pleased to sell my whereabouts, wouldn't he?”

Probably.

“What are we doing here?” From the look of the run-down building, it used to be a school.

“Heading for the training facility.”

“Excuse me?”

But he didn't answer, leading the way through a warren of dark corridors. The smell suggested nobody had been here in a while, so the bright side was we wouldn't be disturbed. But I was pleasantly surprised when we got to the gym. He'd obviously done some cleaning and it looked like a small dojo with mats and sparring equipment. Some of it, like the bo sticks, I recognized from martial arts movies. There were also poles, kick targets, parallel bars, and a heavy bag.

“You said you were willing to work hard,” Raoul said softly. “Now you prove it.”

I'd seen countless training montages before; they didn't remotely communicate how hard he worked me for the next two hours. First it was warm-up exercises and then katas. After that, he showed me very basic kicks and punches. I couldn't tell what martial style he was teaching, so when he gave me a chance to catch my breath, I asked.

“This is only a self-defense course,” he told me. “You don't have the time to learn an actual style, but there may come a moment when knowing how to dodge or strike may save you. For Kian's sake, you have to know a little something about saving your own life.”

Considering how I did against the monster I'd volunteered to fight, I saw his point. “I get it. How often should I come?”

“Four times a week if you can manage it. Depending on how well you take to the lessons, we may work on more advanced training. If we have time.”

“You sound like you're expecting something specific and horrible to happen,” I said.

He didn't speak, but I saw the reply in his expression. Raoul's dark eyes were somber with acknowledgment.
Yeah, I'm right.
Because the future was fluid and each choice resulted in branching possibilities, he couldn't be sure exactly when the shit would hit the fan, but I could tell he was sure there would be messy splatter sometime soon.

His aspect remained grim. “Don't think about that. Just prepare for it.”

“I feel like Sarah Connor in
The Terminator
.” Bad joke, the best I could do.

That roused a reluctant half smile, making me kind of proud of myself. “I'm not surprised Kian's so fond of you. There's a … brightness about you. He could use more of that.”

“I'm trying.” Pain bubbled up as I thought about my dad sleepwalking through life, and my mom, who was gone. The rush nearly took me out at the knees. “It's not always easy.”

“No, it never is. And there'll be those that accuse you of being heartless too.”

It seemed like he understood what I was going through. I realized I was already talking to him like I did Vi—with no thought about how much older he was.
No wonder Kian bonded with him. He's really good with people.
Or maybe I trusted him instinctively
because
of his relationship with Kian. Whatever the reason, it wasn't like me to connect so fast. I needed to think about what it meant and if I could actually trust him.

“So I'll see you tomorrow?” I chose not to wade any deeper with him until I had some reflecting time.

“Same time, right here. Be ready to sweat.”

“I will be,” I answered, shrugging into my jacket. “But … is there some reason Kian can't know about this? I get the impression he doesn't.”

“He wants to protect you. So…” Raoul hesitated.

“Just tell me.”

“Therefore, I think he'd resist you doing anything that pushes him out of the hero's role. But those ideas are old-fashioned and they result in the chivalrous knight laying down his life.”

Actually, that tracked with what I knew of Kian. He'd said as much when I swapped my last favor to protect him and save his life. “Then I'll keep it under wraps. See you tomorrow.”

*   *   *

In the morning, I let the drama department know I wouldn't be helping with backstage management after all. Since I wasn't irreplaceable, they didn't seem to mind. At lunch I texted Kian to let him know I didn't need a ride. If he came to my school, he'd wonder why I was in a hurry to get home, change, and rush out again. Raoul hadn't mentioned him, so I guessed Kian knew nothing about his mentor's goal of turning me into a badass, one I supported. I was tired of freezing in fear, tired of not knowing how to protect myself. Sure, I might come up against monsters I had no hope of defeating, but it'd be better to die fighting than get mowed down.

The rest of the week, I divided my time: working in the dojo with Raoul, searching in the library for information on how to break a contract, sitting in class or doing homework. By Friday, judging by the tone of the texts, Kian thought I was avoiding him. But it wasn't like that at all; I just didn't have the energy to hang out along with everything else. Once I got used to the intensity of the training sessions, that would probably change.

I hoped.

Because otherwise, we were going to have another big fight. Sighing, I blotted the sweat from my forehead and jogged slowly toward the subway station. The car was packed since it was around seven. All I wanted was to take a shower, put on pajamas, and do some homework. But when I got off the train on my end of town, I saw Kian waiting in front of my building.

His face brightened, until he registered how tired and sweaty I looked. At least I was guessing that was what turned his smile upside down. “Where were you? I've been here for a while.”

“My dad's not around to let you in?” Dumb question, it was only seven. It would be a miracle worthy of notifying the pope if he showed up before nine. But it was also a red herring, diverting attention from my activities.

“That's not an answer.”

Dammit. Should've known that wouldn't work.

“I was working out. Now that my body's awesome, I'm trying to keep it that way.” I kept my tone light, offering him a smile.

“Then why are your knuckles scraped?”

Catching myself before I could glance down, guilty, I shrugged. “Maybe I scratched them on a wall.”

His jaw clenched. “Edie. You're a terrible liar. You've been dodging me for days and now you can't even look me in the eye.”

Just to prove him wrong, I lifted my face and gazed into his green eyes. “Better?”

“Not really.” A sigh escaped him. “Can I come in? It's Friday night, and Aaron's watching movies at my place. I thought we could hang out.”