Public Enemies (23 page)

Strength flooded my body until the top of my head tingled. My skin also felt iced with cold, as if I had dead hands plastered all over me. I tucked the mirror away and waited for my vision to clear. I heard Buzzkill swearing and the sound of him digging into his briefcase for the tools of his trade. I was most worried about Kian, who hadn't trained with Raoul and me much. If it came down to it, I know how to strike, block, and fall, not that I was convinced I could physically stand against Dwyer and his ilk.

When I could see again, we were in a bubble of sorts, no longer part of the modern world. I'd seen something like this before when we visited the Oracle in Wedderburn's compound. Kian had called her a forfeit, caught in amber, because she couldn't exist in the real world. Was this place like her cave? Despite the dangers, I wondered about the physics involved in creating subspace like this one. I'd give anything to study the phenomenon … but Dwyer or his crew would soon be trying to kill us. That reality snapped me back to high alert.

The walls were pale and nondescript with pockets and shadows in the distance. That much power scared the shit out of me.

As if answering my thought, Dwyer strode toward us with minions in tow. And the sun god smiled. He wore white today, a stark contrast to the bronze and gold of the rest of his hair and skin. He took a step forward, holding up a hand to keep the monsters at his sides in check. They seemed to be feathered serpents in rainbow hues, something from the Mayan world, I thought, but their hisses and fangs and the way they bobbed and wove, staring at us, told me we were definitely prey. The movements were hypnotic, so I wrenched my gaze back to Dwyer. Ra. Apollo. Whoever the hell he was.

“I'm sure you know by now,” he said.

“What?”

“That I have your father.”

“We're not here to talk,” Buzzkill cut in. “You invited us, so let's dance.”

A quick glance showed me his true form, a terrifyingly demented clown with yellowed eyes and teeth, serrated blades in each hand. The outfit and hair should've made him hilarious, but I shivered as I looked away.
Glad he's on my side at the moment.

“I'll get to you in a minute, freak show. This is a one-time offer for amnesty. Come with me, and I'll reunite you with your father. The two of you can work at one of
my
labs, under our protection. What's Wedderburn done to deserve your loyalty? You're a smart girl, I'm sure you already know what he did to your mother.”

“I'm aware,” I choked out.

The fact was, I'd be stupid not to consider it. But Buzzkill slid me a look. “Don't be dumb, kid. Wedderburn would rather see you dead than helping the opposition.”

“Don't even think about it,” Kian growled.

I wasn't sure who he was talking to, both of them, probably. The bravado was sweet, but he couldn't handle this for me. Not without being destroyed in this weird-ass clash of the Titans. So I opened my fingers and stepped away, drawing the enemy's gaze.

Dwyer flashed a blindingly bright smile. “But, you see, I feel exactly the same way.”

Shit. I'm a wishbone. They'll pull on me until I break.

Then a faint whisper sounded in my head.
Remember how you felt when I had you on your knees?
The rage and humiliation nearly choked me, even a year later. Some memories didn't fade.
Cameron?
I whispered silently. He was part of me, wrapped around me, and the sensation was god-awful with horror.

Use that. Use it now.

“I'm not yours to take,” I snarled at Dwyer.

Nobody was more startled when my fist connected with his jaw, and dark energy spilled from my fingers, blasting him back.
Cameron?
But my spirit familiar didn't reply. That wicked strength surged again, fueling my rage. For too long, I had been afraid—of the assholes at school, of monsters and immortals, of failing my family and friends, of losing the people I loved. It was time to fight back.

He didn't fall, but he did pause, rubbing his jaw with gilded fingertips. “You dare?”

But I didn't give him time to shit-talk. I went after him again, trying to remember everything Raoul had taught me. In my peripheral vision, Buzzkill rushed the feathered serpents, but the wind was rising, gusts pushing me away from my target. I stumbled as the brightness increased. Soon there was a corona in my eyes and I couldn't find Dwyer. I took his first hit squarely in my stomach; it should've scrambled my intestines but Cameron's cold seemed to absorb some of the force. I tumbled backward but, thanks to Raoul, I knew how to fall and I was on my feet in a few seconds.

Kian called, “Edie!”

I couldn't look at him.

The heat was rising, along with gale-force winds. It was all I could do to keep my feet while Buzzkill slashed at the feathered serpent I figured had to be responsible for the storm. The other one joined in, adding thunder and lightning to the melee. It snapped to the ground only inches from where I stood, raising all the hair on my head and singeing the soles of my shoes. Dancing backward, I narrowly avoided a blow from Dwyer. His expression radiated grim amusement, as if he didn't expect me to make this so interesting.

He'd hurt me badly, and it would probably get worse. The nearest snake god lashed out at me, judging me more dangerous than Kian. That made me happy even as Kian swore. I dodged the strike and wished I had a weapon. Barehanded combat sucked against such powerful opponents. A shrill cry of terror made me whirl around, just fast enough to avoid the follow-up in the form of lashing teeth.

To my horror, Aaron came flying out of the shadows, tossed like flotsam on the killing wind.
He must've been hiding nearby when Dwyer pulled us here.
The kid hit the ground hard and bounced several more feet. He wasn't moving like prey, more like a bag of clothes, but the snake god struck, sinking long fangs into him again and again. I ran at the thing but Dwyer knocked me away.
I can't believe I forgot about him.

“Hold on,” Buzzkill yelled. “Boss will send reinforcements but it'll take some time for them to pierce the bubble.”

That strike nailed me squarely in the back, and I would've hit my head hard enough to knock me out if I hadn't known how to roll with it. I tumbled forward and came up on my feet, wobbling but still in the fight. Wearing an unreadable expression, Dwyer came at me again, riding the wind like a chariot. He loomed over me, trying that damn aura, but my spirit familiar kept me from feeling the worst of it. Instead of kneeling I struck at his kneecaps; that was how high he was above me. He tried to kick me in the head and I flung up my forearm in a reflexive block. The light that had rocked the Harbinger at school blew the sun god back.
Thanks, Wedderburn.
My marks were a fail-safe; now I was sure. If I'd tried to go with Dwyer, they might've burned so hot they would've killed me. Flinching, I remembered how much they hurt when I left Boston with Davina.
Damn. I basically have a bomb in each wrist.

Dwyer swore in a language I didn't recognize, and I swung toward him, squinting. “That's not standard issue,” he added in English.

My eyes focused as I caught my breath. My stomach was definitely bruised, and it slowed me down when Dwyer put out a hand. A ferocious glow kindled in his palm, the kind of brightness that said he'd burn everything down if he had to. The fire exploded like a backdraft, so it hurt to breathe. I dove but there was no shelter, and the wind caught me, buffeting me into the far wall. This was a pocket space created by the sun god; how long could he hold both our prison and keep summoning the power he needed to smite me?

When my eyes stopped stinging from the extreme heat, I stared in disbelief at the charred body nearby. I'd seen footage from bomb explosions and not been prepared for the damage. Buzzkill was still fighting.
Is that … That is …
Nearby, Kian hit the ground hard, bleeding from multiple puncture wounds.
Then it's Aaron. We saved him from the Harbinger and he died on our watch.
I didn't have the time to ponder the implications—if the life we'd pulled him out of had been better than a fiery death.

Buzzkill sliced the head off a feathered serpent, but the thing didn't stop. Instead its body simply writhed until another grew in its place. He cursed in quick succession. “I can't win here. They can't kill me. I can't kill them. But you…”

I'm weak. Human. And Kian's already down. The snake-thing bit him.

He wasn't moving either. My anger went ice cold, and Cameron … sank into me more. His despair over Brittany, being helpless and trapped, his emotions rushed through me like water across a broken dam. He didn't care who the target was; he just wanted someone to pay. It was all I could do to keep him from taking my body entirely. Through pure force of will, I choked him and took his fury as my own. I had no idea how I looked but Buzzkill actually gave way when I surged forward, both hands raised in a fighting stance.

“You can hurt me,” I said coldly. “But you can't break me.”

Dwyer lobbed more of that flash fire at me and I rolled
through
it. The move cost me, burning away most of my spirit strength. Cam's power was finite, and I'd nearly tapped it, but I kept running. Sheer purpose drove me forward and Cameron guided my hand with monstrous accuracy. My curled fingers sank into Dwyer's chest and I kept pushing. He didn't have the same biological consistency as a human, no flesh or bone, but I was definitely hurting him. My fingers curled around something hard and hot and when I pulled my hand out, I held a blazing stone, ugly, seething orange that contrasted sharply with the beauty of his exterior.

His expression dazed and frightened, Dwyer stumbled back as the pocket realm imploded. Shards of light rained down around me as I threw myself on top of Kian. When I opened my eyes again, I was lying in the dirty alley behind Cuppa Joe on top of Kian's still body, Aaron's unrecognizable corpse nearby. Wedderburn arrived a few seconds later in a shower of ice and hail; I hardly felt it as it sprinkled on my back.

“You angered the Harbinger only to get his poor pet killed … and
this
is what you saved dear Kian for?” The cold god chuckled. “Sometimes I wonder if you're as clever as academic records imply, Miss Kramer.”

“Maybe not,” I gritted out.

“Pity. Your plans never seem to work out as you hope. It would've been kinder to let Buzzkill execute Kian Riley. Much quicker than poison.”

The ember burned my palm but I didn't open my fingers. Some quiet instinct whispered that if he saw it, he would take it by force, and I couldn't let that happen. A glance at Buzzkill told me he was weighing his options, but in the end, he kept quiet. I didn't know why. Something like hope shivered through me, delicate as cricket feet. Excruciating pain now, but I couldn't let on.

“I'll take care of him. Go.” The last word came out gritted through my teeth. For a few seconds, I feared Wedderburn would linger and then I'd die of shock, but instead he swooshed away in a showy departure of winter wonders.

Moaning, I slammed my hand into the snow the cold god left behind. It cooled the stone to bearable proportions, and the throb in my palm died away to numbness, probably not a good sign. I was more worried about Kian, who still hadn't stirred. Lifting myself off him, I made sure he had a heartbeat.
Yeah, faint but there.
Panting, I rested my head against Kian's chest.

“You can't keep Dwyer's heart in a snowbank. He's weak now but he'll be back for it.”

“Why didn't you tell Wedderburn? He probably could make great use of this.”

“Probably,” he admitted. “And … I'm not sure. Technically you're my boss right now, so I could say it's because I knew you wanted to keep it a secret.”

“But that's really not why.”

He shook his head, taking on the nondescript bodyguard role again. “Hang on a sec, I'll see what I have to help you.”

“Huh?”

Rather than answer, he rummaged around in his case and produced a small square box. “This should do the trick.”

Buzzkill popped it open to reveal a lead-lined container. My whole arm felt dead, and it took most of my strength to lift the stone and drop it inside. He sealed it up and handed it back to me. My head was fuzzy from exhaustion and pain as I tucked it into my jacket pocket, but I couldn't pass out.

“I'm going into Cuppa Joe for a sec. Gotta tell Shirl that we need cleanup in aisle death.”

“That's not funny.”

Poor Aaron.

But I couldn't even grieve because I was so damn worried about Kian. While Buzzkill went inside, I tried to bring him around, but nothing worked. His inhalations grew lighter and fainter, until I feared I could hear the death rattle in his chest.
Oh my God, no. Not like this.
Fear and rage went battle royale in my brain. Maybe it was futile to feel this way when he had an expiration date. In a few short months, he was turning twenty-one, and on his birthday, the Harbinger would drink him like a refreshing beverage.

The first tears were falling when Buzzkill stomped back toward me. “Get that meatsack on his feet, or we're leaving him. Find his keys.”

His brusqueness jolted me into movement born of sheer antipathy. A glance at my compact told me Cameron had only a little juice to give; he was a faint shadow, but I showed no mercy in calling him again. The whispered word left me with an empty mirror and just enough energy to hoist Kian over my shoulder.

“Bullshit,” I said. “Did
you
complete driver's ed? Because I did.”

For once, Buzzkill was speechless as I stumbled past him toward the Mustang. He followed with a few choice imprecations about me not knowing when to quit, but I ignored him. I slung Kian into the passenger seat and called Raoul while waiting for Buzzkill to get in back.