Read Enemies: The Girl in the Box, Book Seven Online
Authors: Robert J. Crane
Slow understanding dawned on him and his head slowly dipped back as he leaned against the back of his chair. “Did
you
…?”
I couldn’t meet his gaze. “I did it, yeah.”
“God, Sienna …”
I let a silence hang between us like a curtain. “I almost got Winter, too,” I said, “but he got away.” I looked up at him. “I’m sorry I didn’t call. I’m sorry I didn’t … dreamwalk to you or something.”
“Why didn’t you?” he asked, leaning forward again, his hand resting on the sleeve of my clothing. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
I bit my bottom lip to keep it from quivering and waited to steady myself before I spoke. “I didn’t want … to admit what they did. And after I did what I did … I didn’t want to admit that to anyone, either.” I looked at him and felt my eyes water. “I’ve killed people, Reed. A lot of them, lately. Not all of them deserved it.” I felt my arm shake under his grasp. “It’s like I can’t stop, like I can’t control myself. I don’t know if it’s me, or Wolfe—I don’t even know if there’s a line between us anymore!” I heard a quaver in my voice. “When he says to kill someone, it’s like I just start moving without thinking.” I brought my other hand up to my face to cover it, as though I could hide from him. “I … killed the Primus of Omega.”
There was a shocked silence. “You … did what?”
I pulled my hand away and looked at him. “I killed the Primus of Omega. I beat him to death in his own office.”
He frowned. “Is that why they appointed the new one? Rick?”
I shook my head. “No. That’s the one I killed.”
Reed took a sharp breath. “Oh, wow. We didn’t even know that he was dead.”
“It just happened yesterday.” I brushed some of the dampness from my cheek with my sleeve. “He was trying to intimidate me by talking about how powerful he was, how insignificant I was, and I just snapped and … beat him to death.”
There was a quiet for a moment after that, and when I looked at Reed’s face, I could see he was trying to come up with something reassuring to say. “You know, Omega’s not exactly an organization built on sweetness and light. If this Rick was running the show, he was not a good guy. I wouldn’t lose a lot of sleep over it if I were you.”
I bumped my head against the headboard of the bed. “I don’t seem to be losing sleep over much of anything lately.” I blinked and looked sideways at him. “What do you know about my family?”
He looked stupefied. “Uh … you mean, other than that I’m your brother?”
I sighed. “The Nealon side.”
He shrugged. “Nothing, really. Why?”
“Because,” I said, trying to put together the pieces of what I’d seen in my dream, “I’m pretty sure I just saw an Omega operative kill my grandfather.”
Reed looked left then right, as though surveying the room for something he’d missed. “Um … maybe we should get you off that pain medication.”
I studied my arms for an IV. There wasn’t one. “I don’t think I’m on any pain medication.”
“Then we should probably get you some.”
“I’m not delusional,” I said, annoyed. “I saw it in a dream. Like a flashback. I think it came from Zollers, like he put it in my head so I could see it. I keep seeing this Omega operative named Adelaide, doing work for them here in London back in the 1980s.” I felt a stir inside at that, and I knew who it was that was taking an interest. “She was a succubus, and she was trained by Wolfe.”
Reed sat up, his eyes focusing on me in rapt attention. “Why do you think she killed your grandfather?”
“I’m not a hundred percent on it,” I said, “but she called him Mr. Nealon, and he was a meta who said his wife and daughters were succubi.” I shrugged. “Just a hunch. Maybe we’re unrelated. Just seemed like an odd thing for me to witness if it’s pure coincidence.”
“Coincidence in this instance does seem a bit farfetched.” Reed shook his head and squeezed my forearm again through the cotton sleeve of my shirt. “I really am glad to see you. When I thought you were dead, I …” He swallowed heavily. “You’re the only family I have left, you know.”
“Same goes, bro,” I said with a weak smile. “I’m sorry I didn’t call or … anything. I just … I’m sorry. I couldn’t handle it at first. I just retreated from the world. Afterward …” I let my voice trail off, and when I spoke again it was quiet. “I think I was probably too ashamed of what I was going to do … and since then what I’ve done. I just didn’t want to drag you into that.”
Reed rubbed his eyes. “I would have been there for you, you know that, right?”
“In a heartbeat,” I said with a weak smile. “But you shouldn’t have had to be there. Not for that.” My smile disappeared. “Not for what I did.”
I could see the unease as he nodded. “I have to go … talk to my boss. Fill her in on what happened to Rick. This is important. I have a feeling she’ll want to talk to you herself.”
“Wait,” I asked. “What happened to the guy I was with?”
“Breandan Duffy?” Reed asked with a smile. “He’s fine. Playing cards with some of our hired hands here. He’s under our protection now. We’re trying to get as many metas as we can under our roof here in London so we can all band together.”
“How’s that going?” I asked, hopeful to hear something good in return.
“Bad,” Reed replied with none of the optimism I’d hoped for. “We’ve only been here for a couple days, though.” He hesitated. “We had to get out of Rome pretty quickly.”
I didn’t frown, exactly, but that didn’t sound like good news. I put it aside, though, remembering something more urgent. “Weissman was sending someone up to Ireland to wipe out a couple cloisters up there,” I said. “He was planning to hit one up in Scotland himself, with his team of mercs. Since Breandan and I killed them, I don’t know what he’s going to do now, but someone should warn them—all of them—what’s coming.” I felt a tremor inside, a fear for those people I didn’t even know. “I saw the handiwork of whatever he sent to Ireland. There were bodies … everywhere.” I let the last bit out as a whisper, and in my mind I saw them again. In a flash, it reminded me of all the corpses I’d left on the ground lately.
“We’ve got someone on their way up there right now,” Reed said. “We’re hurrying. It could be tight. Century’s in full motion now, scrambling to get everyone they can on the playing field to kill every meta possible and we’re thin on resources.” He ran a hand through the hair on top of his head. “As much as I hate Omega, they’re nothing compared to this threat. At least with them, these metas stand a chance of survival.”
“And what about with you?” I asked quietly.
He smiled, faintly. “We’re not played out yet.” He gave me a last squeeze of reassurance and headed back through the door.
After he shut it, I waited in the quiet and pondered Reed’s words. He could try and reassure me all he wanted, play the big brother card with all its authority, but it didn’t matter. I’d seen what Century had done to a room full of metas already, wiping them out without a fight, without hope, without remorse—and I wondered if they’d be able to do just the same to all of us who remained.
I stood up a few minutes later, testing my strength. The faint smell of Reed lingered in the room, and I cracked my neck to see if it was all better. It was. I couldn’t remember if I’d had a broken neck before, but it wouldn’t have surprised me. The benefit to healing quickly and being in as many fights as I’d been in was that it was incredibly hard to remember all the injuries I’d accumulated in my year of battle. And it had been only a year, unbelievably.
I was still wearing the same clothes I’d had on when I confronted Weissman, minus my purloined tactical vest. I didn’t see any dressers or any sign that there was any other clothing available for me to change into, which wouldn’t have been so bad if not for the fact that I was feeling grimy. I wondered if anyone had bothered to collect my travel bag from the van in Century’s warehouse, and I ultimately decided I’d just retrieve it myself later, if necessary. I had reached the point in my life where I needed to decisively handle things myself. I’d relied on my mother for all the years I’d lived at home, then on the Directorate when I was in their employ. I didn’t want to rely on anyone like that ever again. It made me feel too weak and vulnerable when they decided to pull up stakes and leave me on my own.
I was doing a full, slow stretch and cracking my back into place when the door opened softly. I turned to see Breandan walk in, a smile on his face. “Good to see you,” he said, closing the door softly behind him. “At least it’s good to see you up and about. I think you’ve been unconscious more since I’ve met you than you’ve been awake, actually.”
“That seems to be a fairly common state of affairs nowadays,” I said, rising off the bed to greet him. “How are the cards treating you?”
He grinned. “These Alpha fellows seem to think it’s my lucky day.”
“I can’t imagine why.”
He shrugged lightly. “Who am I to disabuse them of the notion that their fortunes are merely off for the time I’m at the table? It’ll probably be another game or twelve before they tumble to the notion that I might be cheating. At that point, they’ll ask me what my power is. Probably better if I quit while I’m ahead, eh?”
“For some reason, I thought you didn’t like to gamble,” I said.
“Oh, I like gambling,” he said amiably, “I just don’t think it’s good for me. But that’s something else entirely.” He looked me over. “You look well. Especially considering how unwell you looked when we carried you out of that office where Weissman beat the holy hell out of us.”
“I heal fast,” I said, running a hand over my dirty blouse. It wasn’t exactly top quality to begin with, just a little above casual, but it was what I had.
“You’re not even joking,” Breandan said. “It was well over a day before I could safely take the cotton out of my nose after our scrape on the tube. But you—you’re a right mess less than a day ago and now you’re fit as a fiddle.”
“I’m a powerful meta,” I said absently.
“What’s that have to do with it?” he asked, wrinkling his nose.
“Something about the power scale,” I said with a shrug. “Some meta types are more powerful than others, and with that comes faster healing, more strength, dexterity, all that. It rises correspondingly.”
“Very fancy,” he said with a smirk. “Those of us with only the ability to idly fiddle with luck, I suppose we’re on the low end of your power scale?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never really seen a chart comparing and detailing the different types, to be honest.”
The door opened again and I leveled a semi-serious glare at it as Reed entered. “No one around here seems to understand the polite art of knocking, apparently.”
“Sorry,” Reed said, “I’ve got someone I’d like you to meet.”
“Oh, good,” I said, looking down at my ragged clothing, “I’m well dressed to meet your boss right now.”
He smiled faintly. “I maybe should have been more clear about this. When I said ‘My boss,’ I didn’t just mean my immediate supervisor.”
“Geez,” I said with a certain feeling of dread discomfort. “You’re introducing me to someone way up the chain, aren’t you?”
“Right at the top, I’d estimate,” Breandan said softly.
“Yeah,” Reed said, looking sidelong at the Irishman. “The founder of Alpha.”
“By all means,” I said with a feeling of surrender. “Bring him in.”
Reed scrunched his face up at me then slapped the door once as though to signal someone outside. “She.”
“Fine,” I said. “Bring she in.” I smirked. “Or did you mean ‘her’?”
“He meant her,” came the voice as she opened the door. She was fairly tall as women go and ridiculously elegant, even clad as she was in a pantsuit. “I am definitely a her.” She surveyed me with cool eyes, grey as a stormy sky, her hair a faded platinum that she clearly wasn’t bothering to conceal. Age looked good on her, better than on most women, but it was still obvious in the lines that had crept in on her face. As a young woman, she would have been considered stately, but probably not beautiful. As an older one, she looked commanding, severe, and not like someone whom my first instinct would be to cross. “It’s quite an event to meet you after all this time,” she said in a dry tone, sharp and crisp. “I must admit with everyone in the meta world scrambling to get hold of you over these last few months, I rather expected you’d be taller.” She let a smile show the irony, and it took me only a moment to realize she was joking.
“Thanks,” I said, not quite sure how to take that. “I tend to find that my stature makes people underestimate me.”
“No doubt,” she said. “But, before we begin,” she turned to Reed, “perhaps you’d like to make a more formal introduction.
Reed gave a subtle nod, and I saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed almost comically. “This is my sister, Sienna Nealon,” he said to the woman, giving me a cool look as he did so. “Sienna, this is my boss—the head of Alpha.” She turned to face me as he spoke, keeping her arms folded across her chest, her suit not even creasing as she did so, maintaining the elegant lines. “You’ve probably heard of her before.
“Her name is Hera.”
“I’m standing in the presence of a famous one,” I said dryly as I cast a look sideways at Breandan, who smiled weakly back. “Hard not to have heard of the wife of Zeus.”
She didn’t flinch, but I saw a flicker of amusement, tempered by annoyance. “Yes, I get that all the time,” she said, with an air of exaggerated patience. “Some of our mistakes are forgotten as quickly as they’re made. Unfortunately, that one appears set to haunt me until the end of the world.”
Breandan looked at her with his eyebrows raised about halfway up his forehead. “Sorry. Marrying Zeus was a mistake? Is that what you’re suggesting?”
“Did I suggest that?” she asked wryly. “Let me make it more clear—it was a disastrous mistake, and one I wish I could take back a thousandfold. Not only was it ridiculously short-lived by the standards of our race, but every myth surrounding it at this point makes me seem like quite the shrew.” She rolled her eyes. “Now I’m the mythical equivalent of Kim Kardashian.”
I held my tongue, tempted though I was to make some witticism about myth being rooted in fact. I assumed I had matured in the last year because there was a time when I’d never have been able to keep from saying something as juicy as that. I knew there was still an insufferable smile perched on my lips, though, and Hera noticed it too. “I wouldn’t worry about it; you’re nowhere near as well known as Kim Kardashian, at least not to the current generation.” Well, it wasn’t as bad as what I could have said. I gave it a five on the harshness scale. If we were grading on a curve. “Bad reputations notwithstanding,” I said, changing the subject, “perhaps we oughta get to business.”