Firewall (Magic Born) (12 page)

“You’ll need backup.”

That sharpened her focus. “No way.”

He moved directly in front of her. “I’m risking my career.
Hell, my life. All to protect you and what you’re doing here in New Corinth.
Maybe I want to see for myself what you’re doing, and why it’s worth it.”

Hadn’t she thought of almost that exact same line of reasoning?
Tilt at that windmill of getting him to think for himself, show him a reality he
knew little about. She wanted that. She wanted him to know that his dedication
to something larger than himself had played a huge role in her decision to join
the underground instead of flee the country. She wanted him to know what she was
fighting for. But at the same time, she wanted him safe, and that meant as far
from her and New Corinth as possible.

“I don’t know.”

“No one will know it’s me. I’ll wear the glamour. We both can.
One last go-around for Mr. and Mrs. Jones.”

“We can’t do that.” Her heart sounded impossibly loud, a drum
beating fast in her ears. “The video of me, remember?” She shouldn’t have worn
it today. What the hell was she thinking?

“Yeah.” He nodded as he stepped closer. “I guess we can’t be
those people anymore.”

No. Mr. and Mrs. Jones were in the past and had to stay there.
But they couldn’t just be Dale and Tuyet either. Nothing so simple for them.

“I know some people who are excellent at glamours,” she said.
Though why she said it, she couldn’t have explained. What he was proposing was
not a smart idea, for all sorts of reasons.

“Sounds good. That way your filmmaker’s protected. I learn what
I want to know.” He swept her hair to one side, baring skin along the column of
her neck. “I’m betting we can still pass for a married couple.”

We have to pass for a married couple.

The words echoed from another time, another place. Not so very
different though.

A
Hong Kong luxury hotel
,
Victoria Harbour glittering in the night
beyond the balcony.

“
I
know it’s awkward.
”

“
We’re professionals.
It’s not that big a deal.
”
Heat flamed through her body
,
revealing the lie
,
at least to her.

“
I
don’t want you to think—
”

“
I
think it’s the job.
”
Her fingers fumbled with the small dragon in
her hand
,
made of red resin and bought from a street vendor.
By him
,
for her.
Just a part of their cover
,
he’d said.
So why did she clutch it so tight
,
like she never wanted to let it
go?

It wasn’t really Hayes.
He was Mr.
Jones in glasses and dark hair
,
husband and business partner.
Green eyes.
The mission.

(
permission
)

“
We just need to make it look good.
Show affection in public.
That’s all.
”

“
In public.
”
She licked her lips.
“
Of
course.
”

He burned a path down her neck with his fingertips. Tuyet
closed her eyes.

“It’s been a while.”

“Mmm.”

“To carry this off, we’ll need to reestablish the rapport we
had when working with this cover.” The words came in a soft whisper, floating
through the haze of sensation brought on by his lips so close to her skin.

“
So I think we should do this in private
,
just
this once
,
to sort of establish
,
um
,
a
rapport.
You know.
And so we don’t look like two strangers kissing the first time it happens in
public.
”
He looked past her to the sparkling lights beyond that
undulated gently with the flow of the water.

“
That makes sense.
”

“Dale.” She raised her hand to stroke his face, her nerve
endings tingling from contact with the energy emanating from the bracelet.

“I can’t stand to be called that.” He took her by the hips and
turned her roughly in his arms. “Except by you.”

She placed her hand on his chest.
His heart pounded beneath.
Sandalwood cologne
,
gun oil from cleaning his weapons and a scent
that was uniquely him made for a heady mix.
She inhaled
,
wanting more of that scent
,
wanting it to be
a part of her own.
He tipped her chin up.
Their eyes met and she wanted his to be blue
,
wanted his true
face
,
but this was all she could have so she would take
it.

Slowly
,
he lowered his lips to hers.
The faintest brush of contact at first
,
barely there.
Even so
,
it burned.
Sweet
,
delicious fire spread from the delicate skin of her lips in
a slow wave to the rest of her.
She wanted to fall into that fire
,
let it consume her.
Burn her down to ash and remake her into something new.

Hayes crushed his mouth to hers. Brutal, unrelenting, full of
years of pent-up desire. She answered it with her own. Every word they couldn’t
say, every emotion they couldn’t act on, every wish, every want—it all poured
out through the kiss. His touch licked flame across her skin even through
clothing. She sank into the heat, clung to his warmth.

If this was all they could have, she would take it.

He broke away abruptly, putting a foot of space between them as
he held up one finger. “Sorry about that.” He moved farther away, running his
hands through newly cropped hair.

Tuyet shivered, her body flashing hot and cold. “Are you
really?”

“Maybe you’re right.” He sat on the bed, removed his bracelet
and dropped it onto the mattress. “I never know what the hell I’m doing with
you.”

She wanted to take off her own glamour, climb into his lap and
kiss him until neither one of them cared who they were. But she stood frozen in
place. Why wouldn’t he look at her? “Dale?”

“You need to go.”

Bewildered, hurt, she swallowed the instinct to demand why and
turned to leave.

“You need to go, or you need to take that glamour off and
stay.” He looked up, blue eyes burning with an intensity that scared her.

Stolen kisses, she could handle. She’d walked away from that
before, though it had been the hardest thing she’d ever done. It couldn’t go
further than that between them. There would be no walking away from that, not
for her. Three years ago he’d made a choice. She wouldn’t ask him to make that
choice again, and she wouldn’t set herself up for worse heartbreak than what she
had coming.

Walking away from him once had ripped her heart to pieces.
Doing it a second time, well, she might as well throw the damn thing away for
all it would be worth.

None of her thoughts would translate into words. She opened her
mouth, trying to speak anyway, and nothing came. So she hurried out the door.
Took the stairs to avoid people and give herself time to get under control. By
the time she reached the lobby, she was calm, moving like she owned every inch
of ground she walked on. The glamour camouflaged her looks. Years of control hid
the rest.

No one could see her running, always running, never slowing
down. No one could see the firewall she’d spent most of her life building around
the core of who she was, so secure even she wasn’t sure what was inside anymore.
No one could see Tuyet Caron, and that was just fine by her.

Chapter Thirteen

Hayes hadn’t had a reason to pull an all-nighter since
he’d started driving a desk. His eyes felt full of grit. His face itched where
new stubble had already come in, making him regret shaving his beard the day
before. At least his newly short hair didn’t look like a wet bird’s nest. He
hung the fluffy hotel towel on the rack and left the steam-filled bathroom.

Once dressed he took a cup of coffee and his tablet to the
balcony to go over his notes. He’d spent all night researching the particulars
of New Corinth City Ordinance 88257. A councilman at large had introduced it for
a vote, but it was written by a team of lawyers at a think tank funded by many
of the corporate entities that expressed public support for it. Most were
regional firms. The largest of those was Jennings AgriCorp. A few of the
companies had ties to the region and city but were headquartered elsewhere. Two
of those he was familiar with. Denton Industries had built much of the heavy
farming machinery his father spent his life working on. Tennant Media Group was
the biggest news networks in the country.

TMG had affiliates in every major city, both television and
internet. Masters of tabloid-style reporting, their ratings were huge, both the
national channel and local stations. The company’s online sites were the most
widely read. Two years ago they’d bought their first social network and it was
rumored they wanted more. They didn’t own any internet service providers, but
they dominated in content creation. The flow of information in the United States
wasn’t controlled by the government no matter what the country’s few dissidents
liked to claim. It was controlled by TMG.

And for whatever reason, TMG had supported the ordinance. As
soon as it was made public, both the local affiliates and the national divisions
painted the law in the rosiest terms possible. A good portion of his sleepless
night had been spent searching through TMG coverage of New Corinth in general
and the ordinance specifically. He found no mentions of the weekly protests or
any other disturbances in the city.

The big media companies in magic-friendly nations all had
witches on staff for various purposes. Some were employed for mundane jobs, some
performed witchcraft. Trancehackers were routinely used in the event of
emergencies to keep lines of communication open. In the previous typhoon season,
trancehackers for Hong Kong media had coordinated with the local government to
keep citizens apprised of weather updates and shelter locations as the power
grid fluctuated in the worst of the storms. To date it had been the most
organized and effective such occurrence, and it had made headlines in every
magic-friendly country. The United Kingdom and the European Union both were
working to put similar plans in place.

But not the U.S. and the handful of other countries with
anti-magic laws. Reading the overseas reports that came across his desktop in
Ranger headquarters in Virginia could be hugely frustrating. It was true that
when Tuyet deserted, the program was nearly shut down for fear of how the
populace would react if it got out that Washington still utilized witches. But
there was also quiet chatter from other corners of the capital that the Magic
Laws were coming to their end date whether people liked it or not. The U.S.
couldn’t continue to live under the economic sanctions imposed by the world’s
leading governments because of the Magic Laws.

Hayes wanted to believe that those in power would make the
right decisions. He knew that probably made him naïve, but he needed that
belief. He’d dedicated his life to that belief. Turned away from Tuyet because
of that belief.

The heat settled in, driving him back inside. He left the
tablet on the dresser, refilled his coffee and sat on the small sofa. How early
would be too early to go see her? And how would he make up for the hash he’d
made of things yesterday? Wearing the glamoured bracelet had been a stupid idea.
He had to do better, think things through better, or he was going to blow it
with her again. Conjuring the past was no way to let her know he wanted a future
with her.

At least he could admit the truth to himself now. He wasn’t
taking her in. There had never been any real chance of that. If she didn’t want
him, he would help her get out of New Corinth and off of Talbot’s radar. After
that, back to an empty apartment, a job he hated, colleagues who didn’t trust
him. If Talbot didn’t buy whatever cover story he tried to sell to explain
Tuyet’s disappearance, there was always the civilian version of a pointless
existence. The thought of it soured the coffee in his stomach.

But if she did want him, what then? She was a fugitive. There
was no magic spell to fix that. If they were going to be together, it would mean
turning his whole life inside out.

And because he couldn’t get a handle on that just yet, he went
back to his research.

He could find little about TMG’s internet-security division.
Most corporations used their internet-security personnel to prevent various
types of hacking. If anybody connected to the ordinance had the ability to use
trancehackers to block uploaded content though, it would be TMG.

Hayes didn’t know anyone who worked for the media conglomerate,
but he did know someone who worked in internet security elsewhere. Yolanda
Gibson, his former warrant officer, now enjoyed a high-paying civilian job and
not getting shot at. They still kept in contact. She called him on Christmas
because she knew he’d be alone. He called her on her birthday to tease her about
being older than him. They weren’t exactly close, but he cared for her and
deeply appreciated that she hadn’t abandoned him as so many had when his career
blew up in his face. She might not know anything about TMG, but if she did, she
would share the information. He fired off a quick email and thumbed the sleep
button on the tablet.

The coffee could no longer disguise the fact that he hadn’t
eaten since yesterday. Find food or go talk to Tuyet? He’d be less likely to
make an ass of himself by hunting up a plate of enchiladas, so he chose
that.

* * *

Laura was in her mid-thirties but looked older. She
perched on a stool in front of a black cloth backdrop, hands fluttering
nervously in her lap. Paula began by showing an older video to demonstrate how
well she could hide a person’s identity in postproduction. That helped soothe
Laura’s worries. What helped more was Paula’s manner, calm and soft-spoken. Open
to listening. She had a gift for setting people at ease. Knew when to ask
questions and when to be quiet.

Tuyet hovered in the background. This was the second interview
of the night and neither had been any fun to witness. Laura worked in a tiny
Korean grocer in Rockenbach and lived alone in a studio apartment five blocks
away. Every Friday as soon as her shift was over, she joined the protest. The
sign she carried read We Want Our Children Back.

Paula took her place on the other stool and raised the camera.
“Are you ready?”

Laura nodded. “How do I start?”

“How old were you when you had your baby?”

Laura drew in a deep breath. “I was twenty-four. My husband and
I were careful, very careful. But I got sick and you know what antibiotics do to
the pill. So it wasn’t planned. I mean, I worked in a clothing store in Midtown
back then. He worked for a landscaping company. We didn’t have a lot of money.
We were happy though. We were happy.”

Paula let the silence stretch. Tuyet tried not to fidget.

“He was scared. I mean, I was too. We used to go to Sinsuality
all the time. Go shopping in the bazaar. So we knew some Magic Born and, you
know, it was no big deal. It’s not like we were scared of them or anything. So
we weren’t scared of having a witch baby because of that. We were scared because
it would mean we couldn’t keep our baby.”

“What happened after the DNA test? To you and your
husband?”

Laura tugged on the frayed cuffs of her sleeves, eyes downcast.
“He drank a lot. The clinic gave me a prescription, these pills to keep me calm.
When they stopped renewing it, I started buying it in Rockenbach from this girl
I knew. Well, it wasn’t always the exact same pills, but they all had pretty
much the same effect. I would take two of them and just kind of coast for a
while, you know. I could go to work, do the laundry, whatever. I could handle
it, as long as I was numb.” She looked directly into the camera. “I stayed numb
for a long time.”

Tuyet stepped out of the room, unable to stomach any more of
it. That woman’s daughter would be about ten years old now, either living in the
zone orphanage or adopted by a witch parent. A witch parent who would be the
only parent the girl knew. Was one of the women that marched every Friday aching
with loss over a little girl only three months old? Danika Bazarov had been
delivered into the arms of adoptive parents who would love her fiercely. Tuyet
hoped Laura’s daughter had been so lucky.

It was something the birth parents who marched never talked
about. They wanted their children back, but what if those children were in
loving homes in FreakTown? Who kept the child? If they were old enough to
choose, how could they possibly be expected to make a decision like that? The
last thing anybody wanted was more families torn apart, but if by some miracle
the Magic Laws were overturned, issues like that would have to be carefully
navigated.

Tuyet certainly didn’t have any answers. She’d grown up in the
orphanage in Gehenna. Any way out was a good way, whether it was birth parents,
adoptive parents or the Magic Rangers. She took the escape she was offered and
hadn’t been back to that hellhole since. Not even for the underground had she
been willing to do that.

With a sigh she pulled out her phone and sat on the floor. No
messages from Hayes. She didn’t know how to feel about that. It was probably for
the best if they both forgot about that kiss. She found a book to read and
settled in to wait. If this interview was anything like the first one today, it
would take a while.

* * *

It was early evening before Gibson returned the email.
Hayes read it standing on the corner a block from Tuyet’s apartment.

Heard you got sent on some kind of special assignment to
New Corinth.
I’m still looking into details about TMG for you
,
but I can tell
you this:
Scott Channing has worked there for a year and he recently transferred to
the local NC station.
Keep your head down
,
Hayseed.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Hayes forced himself to relax before he
broke the phone, blinking sweat out of his eyes. Did Channing and Talbot have
any communication? Hayes had no allies in Virginia who could help him find out.
He badly wanted to know how Talbot had gotten that video of Tuyet to start with.
If Channing knew or even suspected she was here, he might not turn her in.

He might just kill her.

Hayes typed a quick message to Tuyet.
Channing in
city.
Can u run trace?
Then he continued on down the street, past her
building. He’d booked his hotel under his own name. Channing could have already
seen them together.

The suck was about to get suckier.

* * *

Tuyet eased through the streets, a bag of groceries in
each hand. The back of her neck prickled a warning. She was being followed, and
not by Hayes. Every instinct she had screamed danger. She looked around as
casually as possible, seeing nothing. If she turned around to look, it would tip
them off. So would running, and depending on how long they’d been following her,
so would bypassing her apartment. She shifted the bags so she could carry them
in one hand and reached into her pocket for her phone.

Someone behind her in the crowd stumbled into her, then moved
off to her left. A hand wrapped around her upper right arm in a bruising
grip.

“Well, if it isn’t my lucky day, Caron.”

It was Scott Channing.