Defiance (22 page)

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Authors: Lili St Crow

BOOK: Defiance
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He stamped, coat flapping silently. Veered away from the baseball field, passed behind the bleachers. Crouched and sprang, his hands jetting out, grabbed the top railing of the bleachers, and cleared it in a swoop of graceful authority no human body would have been able to pull off. My heart lodged in my throat, but I took another bite anyway. Had to swallow twice to get the chewed food down.
There he was on the bleachers. He crouched, and it was difficult to make it out at that distance on the small screen, but maybe his shoulders were shaking.
Oh, God. Is he crying?
“Now watch,” Leon said, leaning forward with his gaze fixed on my face. Like he could tell exactly what I was seeing by my expression.
I took another bite, my eyebrows drawn together, and almost choked.
Graves straightened and leapt off the bleachers, running with fluid grace. He was gone in an instant, but there was something else.
A shadow came from the other side of the baseball diamond. A streak of something that resolved into another boy-shape as it paused behind the bleachers, tipping its head. Sleek hair, a dark sweater, and sharp handsome grace.
Djamphir
grace.
“What the
fuck
?” I breathed. Lifted the sandwich to my mouth again.
It was Christophe. I’d know that body language
anywhere
.
Christophe paused for just a moment, then loped in the same direction Graves had gone. He passed off-camera toward the little copse I’d found a scrap of Graves’s coat in, determination evident in his stride.
The touch twitched inside my head. A scene painted itself in quick swipes, like a motion-capture sketch, black and white. I’d do it with as dark a graphite as I could find, then go over it with black pen to make the shadows even deeper.
Christophe, leaning against a tree in a shadowed clearing. His eyes turned blowtorch-blue as he watched, and the expression on his face was chilling. Because under the set grim look of a guy watching something distasteful, there was faint, scary amusement. He watched as the struggle took place, and when it was over, his smile was a ghost of itself.
“Just get it out of my sight,” he said, and their narrow white hands lifted the other boy, his long dark coat flapping as he struggled uselessly.
I shook my head, sharply, trying to dislodge the thought. The clip ended in a fuzz of static. “What?”
“Does Reynard have a grudge against your
loup-garou
?” Leon’s tone held exactly
no
mockery, and that was odd to hear. “I ask because . . . well, he hasn’t mentioned being the last to see the wulfling, has he?”
“They said Shanks was the last one to see him,” Dibs whispered. He’d grabbed the door frame, his curls dark with water and heavy on his forehead. “But . . . Christophe was?”
“Shanks saw him exiting from
inside
the gym; he stayed to make sure Milady was protected. He couldn’t see outside.” Leon neatly subtracted the silver thing from my fingers. “There’s more, Dru. Are you sure you can stand to hear it?”
I stared at him, my hand in midair holding a sandwich half. “I . . . Just what are we talking about here?”
But I had a sneaking suspicion that I knew.
Just keep waiting, Dru. If I’d heard anything, you would know.
How many times had Christophe repeated it?

Someone
erased that security feed. Someone on the Council, no less, transferred my friend when they caught wind of his poking around for the raw footage. I decided to go very carefully, and it’s good that I did. Because—” His fingers flicked again. Hell of a magic trick—a white envelope appeared in his hand, just like magic. “I found out where he’s being held, too. And how do you think I did that?”
I lowered my hand. Nat moved restlessly, Dibs held on to the door like it was keeping him from drowning, and Ash peered up over the edge of the bed again.
“Bang,” the not-so-Broken wulf said, gravely and expectantly.
I handed him the fresh sandwich half, and he ducked down again. My fingers tingled, and rushing noise filled my skull.
Like wingbeats, feathers frantically brushing air.
“Tell me.” Dry-lipped, I whispered the words.
“By following Reynard until I found one of his lairs. He’s a tricky fox indeed. But once I found his latest den, I found papers. Some of his
private
papers. These were among them.” He offered me the envelope. “Only take it if you’re certain you want to know. Milady.”
“Dru?” Nathalie moved again, like she didn’t want me to go any further. “Eat. Whatever happens, you need your strength to face it. Leave this for after you’ve eaten.”
If I do that, Nat, I’m not going to be brave enough to open it up.
I reached up. My nerveless fingers closed on the paper. “Is this a copy or the original?”
“I didn’t see a copy machine around.” Leon shrugged. “He’ll know someone was in there. He has a sharp nose; he may even know it was me. In that event, you’re the only person who can possibly shield me from his vengeance.”
Yeah, like he listens to me at all.
“Wait.” My head ached, the rushing noise threatening to spill free of my ears and go walking. A crackling ran through me, like the static was somehow being transmitted from my bones outward. Leon shook his head a little, a curious look falling over his sharp face. “Just hold on a second. Let me think.”
“You’re radiating.” Nat handed me another sandwich half. Even her eyeliner was purple, and it glittered in the honey-gold light. “Please. Eat more; you’ll need it.”
I lifted it mechanically to my lips, put it down again. Stared at the envelope in my right hand. “You’re saying Christophe was there when something happened to Graves. And that he knows where Graves is and . . .”
“I don’t know if they left this morning to free the
loup-garou
.” Leon showed his teeth. “I doubt it. The entire Council, gone to rescue a wulfen, even a prince among the furred? No offense.” Here he glanced at Nat again.
Her mouth was a thin grim line, and her eyes flared yellow. “None taken.”
“He promised he’d tell me.” My right hand curled up into a fist. “He
promised
.”
“No doubt he would, when he judged the time right.” Leon folded his arms again. The glow of dusk through the window deepened, the sun’s last hurrah before it sank. “The Council will more than likely return at dusk, Milady. When they do, I’d ask that you allow me to stay in your presence. If Reynard finds out I’ve been in his papers . . . well, as I’ve said, you’re the only person in the Order who can stop him from making me extraordinarily uncomfortable.”
“I don’t understand,” Dibs croaked. “Why would he . . . I mean,
Graves
. He’s one of us. Why would Christophe do that?”
“For the oldest reason in the book, Dibsie.” Nat sounded tired. She was looking right at me. “How maddening, for a
djamphir
to get edged out by a wulf.”
“Nothing ever changes.” Leon’s mouth pulled down bitterly. “You’d do well to remember that, Skyrunner.”
“Some things change.” She watched me, steadily. “You’re proof of that, aren’t you.
Leontus.

I honestly couldn’t tell what the fuck. It went right over my head. “Wait. You’re saying Christophe would . . . would give Graves to . . .” The only possible explanation took shape inside my head. “Give him to Sergej.” The name burned my lips, and Ash shivered. “Because . . . of me?”
“Maybe not necessarily.” Leon shifted his weight slightly. He had the look of someone smelling something unpleasant who couldn’t move away. That slightly set, slightly disgusted expression, mouth tight and eyebrows level—you can see it on plane trips or bus rides all the time. Usually when someone’s sitting next to someone else who doesn’t have the same hygiene standards. “Maybe he gave the
loup-garou
to Anna, who—”
I shook my head. Curls fell in my face. “But Anna . . . she
hated
Chris. You were there, you saw as much!”
He shrugged, the sharp points of his shoulders coming up, dropping. I had a mad thought of offering
him
a sandwich. Leon spread his hands, a helpless gesture. “He could have played her for a fool, too. Let her think she was striking at you. It has a certain symmetry.”
“But Anna had just finished . . .” The enormity of it walloped me sideways. I held the envelope up, sweating fingers crushing the paper. It was thick, stuffed full. “He couldn’t have. She’d just . . . I’d just finished having a fight with her. She wasn’t about to go meeting up with him. She didn’t even know he was around.”
Leon let his hands drop. “If you say so, Milady. In any case, you have a decision to make.”
I set the plate aside on the rucked-up covers. Nat twitched. I ripped the envelope open, and the sound of tearing paper was like my heart breaking. I
felt
it, a sharp tearing in my chest, and a steady slow leaking.
Leon actually took two steps back, his boots soundless on the hardwood.
Ash’s head popped up again. He studied me for a moment, then actually climbed up on the bed while I slid the six sheets out and opened them up. A whiff of apple pie rose, and my stomach closed around the lump of rock that had been food a little while ago.
I won’t push, and I don’t pry. All I ask is a little attention
.
I opened up the sheaf of paper. Have you ever wanted to wash your mouth out with bleach? I wanted to scrub every part of me that had ever flushed each time Christophe got close to me. I spread the sheets of paper out, crackling, and stared at them.
“Jesus,” I whispered. Everything blurred. It wasn’t just dusk slipping across the sky, creeping in through the skylights. It was hot water in my eyes. My chest ached. I blinked furiously, and a hot drop fell on my hand, spattering. I was shaking.
Pictures. A list of locations, crossed off. One circled. More pictures on copy paper, showing different angles. A mansion; the address was out in Queens. A folded city map, beat up and scuffed like it had been carried in a pocket for a long time. Notations in a thin calligraphic script, I’d seen Christophe’s handwriting on Council paperwork.
This looked similar.
“No.” It didn’t even sound like my voice. Ash reached across me, snagged another sandwich, and settled back on his haunches. At least someone would get the benefit of all that food. “Oh,
hell
no.”
Everything clicked together inside my head, and my face settled against itself. It felt frozen, and heavy, and just a little bit like Dad’s face must have felt when he was wearing his stare-down look.
“What are you going to do?” Leon took another two steps back. Like he was getting ready for an explosion.
I looked up. Dibs stared at me, deathly pale. We watched each other for a few seconds, the blond wulf and me.
He already looked hopeless. And I was just about to make it worse.
“Get out,” I whispered.
He stared at me like I was speaking a foreign language. I hoped like hell he couldn’t read my face. At least the skin lay stiff and masklike against my bones; maybe it would help keep what I was planning a secret.
I slid off the bed. Swayed for a moment, and Nat reached forward as if she was going to help me. My hand flashed out, and I slapped hers away. The sound of the slap was like the last piece of my heart shivering into pieces.
Dibs let out a small, soft, hurt sound. Leon was watching me very carefully, his odd-colored eyes narrowed.
I found my voice again. “Get out. All of you,
out
.”
“Milady—” Nat had gone white, and I didn’t want to see the flash of pain in her wide blue eyes, no trace of yellow glow left in the irises. I didn’t want to see the way she’d grabbed her hand, either, as if she’d touched a hot stove.
Or as if I’d hurt her, with just my puny human strength.
So I half-turned and pointed at Ash. “I said
get out
. And take him with you.” My hands turned into fists, and I dropped them.
Ash looked at me gravely, his scarred boyface set and pale. His head was cocked just a little, and the way his hair fell in his scar-jawed face hurt me suddenly. Would Graves end up like this?
Broken?
Oh, hell no.
Everything that had shattered came together inside me again, sharp edges sliding together like puzzle pieces.
“Dru—” Leon, now. He stepped forward, but I rounded on him.
“I am
svetocha
,” I said quietly. “And I want you all to get
out
of my goddamn bedroom. Right. Goddamn. Now.”
The words rocked him back on his heels. Dibs let out a squeak and bolted for the door, fumbled with the locks, flung it open, and was gone. I pointed at Ash. “You. Down.”
He hopped fluidly off the bed and crouched, hands and feet on the floor.

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