Public Enemies

 

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For the warriors, fighting

for truth, equality, or freedom.

 

To quote Winston Churchill,

“We shall never surrender.”

 

DARKNESS IN PARADISE

Six days before Christmas, two thugs snatched me off the sidewalk and shoved me into a black panel van.

I would've been terrified if I hadn't been expecting … something. Not necessarily a kidnapping, but I'd known there would be a countermove at some point. My main question came from wondering if this was Wedderburn showing me who was boss, the opposition, which meant either Dwyer or Fell, or more mysterious yet—the Harbinger. As I speculated in silence, the iron-faced, concrete-jawed goons gave no sign who'd sent them.

Boston sped by with me pressing a cheek to the window, leaving an imprint on the foggy glass. My heart hammered despite my best efforts to stay calm and my breath came in tiny gulps.
I'm so in over my head.
This time, my boyfriend couldn't rescue me; there would be no more of Kian popping in when I needed him because he was no longer bound to the immortal game—no more access to cool powers—and I'd burned my last favor in cutting him loose.

Eventually, the van parked in a questionable neighborhood not far from the docks. I glanced between the two men up front. One African-American, the other Nordic looking, they were of similar size and shape, roughly six four, with shoulders that seemed five feet wide. Their demeanor and military haircuts made me think they had law enforcement or Special Forces backgrounds, and the coldness in their eyes assured me there was no point in asking for either answers or mercy.

“Get out of the vehicle, miss.” The gravelly command came from the driver. As he glanced over his shoulder to face me in the shadowy interior, his dark eyes seemed, at first, to have no pupils, just like the creepy children that followed the bag man around. I couldn't think about that thing without a shudder of revulsion—and the horrifying certainty that it had my mother's head. A chill swept over me.

“Not until you tell me who I'm visiting.”

“I could make you,” the other one said quietly. “But that would be … unpleasant.” A faint accent made me think he was German.

The driver shrugged as he climbed out and opened the back doors, secured from the outside. “Eh. She'll find out soon enough, no?” To me, he added, “The Harbinger requests the pleasure of your company.” His faux-courtesy didn't escape me, but since I'd gotten the information I asked for, I hopped down under my own steam.

Could be worse. But I was supposed to meet Kian ten minutes ago.

It wouldn't take long for him to realize something had gone hideously wrong. I just hoped he had more sense than to alarm my dad. This wasn't something he could help with, so it was better for him to stay in the lab as he had since my mom's passing, oblivious to the world.

And to me,
I thought.

The pang as the driver slammed the van door behind me felt more like a chest quake. My cardiac cavity echoed, just a bone cage holding my heart hostage. Intellectually, I knew I couldn't have predicted all possible outcomes … and I only ever had three favors. Most of the Teflon crew was dead, and I still didn't know if it had been Wedderburn or the opposition. While I'd managed to protect my best friend, Vi, I didn't realize my mom might be targeted until it was too late. Her death still haunted me. Emotionally, I was all raw meat and rivers of remorse.

The building in front of me seemed like a warehouse, pretty run-down too. Red brick had faded to a rusty orange and at least half the windows were broken or boarded up. Inhaling deeply, I marked the smell of salt water, damp, rotting wood, and a hint of old fish. A newspaper blew across the alley, only to get bogged down in a puddle formed by the broken pavement. It seemed like a major independent player in the immortal game could afford a better hideout, but maybe that was the whole point—misdirection or something. The driver beckoned while the German dude unchained heavy-duty steel doors. They were the newest part of the building, kind of odd.

“Anyone could crawl through one of those broken windows,” I pointed out.

Blond Giant offered a scary smile. “That's the whole point.”

I thought that was all I'd get, but the driver explained, “The doors are a warning. If people choose not to heed it, then they are, of course, welcome to come inside and play.”

“With the Harbinger.” I didn't imagine that ended well for random vandals and trespassers but I had problems of my own. “Why does he want to see me?”

The doors banged open as the chains fell away. “Go and find out.”

Inside, it was dark in contrast to the relative brightness of a winter day. Shivering, I pulled up the collar of my red coat and took a single step into the overwhelming gloom. The doors slammed shut behind me, and as I heard the men fastening the chains, it was all I could do to keep from screaming for help like a damsel tied to the train tracks. There was no stopping the tremors that worked over me, leaving my legs unsteady.

“Edie Kramer.” The whisper echoed all around me, making my skin crawl.

The shadows were so deep and dark, it couldn't be natural. Some ambient light should've filtered in, however dirty the windows, but this cold, damp space felt like an open grave, as if in the next step, I'd tumble six feet down and someone would begin shoveling loose dirt onto my terrified, upturned face. My breathing became audible, the frightened rasp of a child finding that the light switch doesn't work and there is
most definitely
someone else in the room.

“Yes,” I managed to say.

I slowed to near immobility, feeling my way forward with outstretched fingertips. This was every haunted house I ever went in, only without the surety that nobody would hurt me and that whatever ghastly thing I touched wouldn't be real. My hearing sharpened, overcompensating for lack of vision. Something skittered on the floor. I froze as tiny feet ran over my Converse.

Just one. A rat, probably.

“I can see you perfectly.” It was a light voice, teasing even, and the smile I heard in it made this predicament feel even worse. “Can't you find me?”

“Possibly,” I said. “If you keep talking.”

“I could guide you. If you trust me.”

A startled laugh escaped me. “No. But thanks.”

“You'd deny me a spot of entertainment?”

“Unless you find
this
to be the most fun ever, then yeah. Definitely.”

“Fine then.”

The flare of light made me squint, bringing the room into stinging focus. I shaded my eyes because the sudden shift didn't make it any easier for another minute or two. But soon, I could make out the premises, such as they were. The warehouse looked like a rave was held in 1999 and then nobody cleaned afterward. For all I knew, that might be true, as there was a judicious mix of filth, litter, animal scat, and dangling cobwebs.
This is pretty much the perfect place to dispose of a body.
Briefly I considered going out one of those broken windows, but I suspected if the Harbinger was this scary in a playful mood, I didn't want to test him.

Speaking of which, I still didn't see my host. “Where are you?”

Maybe he's invisible like the Cheshire Cat.

“Chin up, dearling.”

In reflex, I tilted my head back and spotted a dark figure perched like a bird of prey on the catwalk above. Something in the angles of his knees and elbows reminded me that this creature wasn't human. The Harbinger hammered the point home by taking a running leap and he didn't plummet so much as dance downward, as if stepping on unseen stones that broke his fall. He landed lightly and swept a theatrical bow, garbed in half a thrift shop, including tailcoat, top hat, black feathered vest, satin trousers, and antique gun boots, to say nothing of the gloriously ornate watch chain affixed not to a timepiece, but a long-necked ceramic cat. Black hair tumbled to his waist, silver strands worked through like starlight.

For some reason, I found it difficult to focus on his face, and it left an afterburn in my mind's eye—a chaotic impression of unearthly beauty married to harrowing despair—scars in the earth full of uncut rubies and holocaust pits with wildflowers rioting along the edges. His eyes twinkled like summer lightning, but I couldn't hold his gaze. Being this close to him made me want to take a step back, as if breathing too close to him might electrocute me.

Damn. And Kian sought this creature out, bargained with it. For me. I have to be brave.

Feeling like Alice in Horrorland, I produced an unsteady curtsy, though I really needed a pinafore to pull it off. “Nice to meet you.” I suspected the Harbinger knew I felt exactly the opposite, but there was no etiquette guide for an occasion like this one.

“So you're worth dying for, hm?” He circled me in slow, stalking steps, leaning in to sniff at me as if I possessed some exotic aroma.

“I hope it doesn't come to that,” I answered, before I could think better of it.

He stilled, head cocking like a bird. “You don't want my protection? And here I've done such a thorough job of keeping nasty things away. Or did you think you'd defeated the mirror creatures on your own … through the magnificent advent of a towel?”

Shit.
I
had
wondered if that was really enough, but when they didn't come after me again, I thought I must've stumbled on the solution.

“Thank you for keeping me safe,” I said around a fear-flavored lump in my throat. “It's not that I don't appreciate it.”

“But…? I can taste the question and I'm in a good mood. Because of you, I shall most certainly feast. And soon.”

What does that even mean?

“Does Kian
have
to die?” It was the stuff of fairy tales. He'd bargained away his last chip, his very life, to protect me. In doing so, he'd offered a gift I didn't want, couldn't exchange, and could never repay.