The Thief (31 page)

She held up her left arm, displaying the
iron surrounding it.

He sighed. “Yes.”

“
You said you didn’t steal
it.”

“
I lied,” he said easily. “I
took it from the Tailors sixteen years ago. And then, when I
realized what you were, I had it reforged into the bracer. It seeks
to eradicate magic - it always has, like any Null. A change in
shape won’t alter its purpose. But this way - it would only limit
you, not destroy you. As a feral, you can’t perform magic, but
you’re still made of it; it flows through your veins. The bracer
siphons it off when you’re in danger of losing
yourself.”

“
Siphons what
off?”

He wasn’t quite looking at her anymore, his
gaze on her left arm and the iron circling it.

“
My blood?” she realized
suddenly. “It
drinks my
blood
?”

He said nothing.

“
What is wrong with you?”
Camille exclaimed, pushing from the doorframe and backing away.
“That is sick! How could you
do
this to me?”

“
To keep you alive,” he
said. “To keep you from hurting other people. To save you the
guilt.”

“
You think I would hurt
people?” Camille snapped. “You think so little of me, that I would,
what, get mad and just kill people for no reason?”

“
I know the Wolf,” Gabriel
said. “I’ve seen centuries of it. A new one every fifteen or twenty
years - every one different, but somehow still the same. They never
last long once they reach the age, they’re just too obvious. Too
openly violent. And now that the Ender has started hunting
it...well.” He shook his head. “Let’s just say that the last one
making it to twenty was a miracle I’ll never
understand.”

The thing on her arm seemed horrifying now,
like an alien parasite.

“
Camille, please,” he
begged, “please listen to me. Don’t ever take it off. Not ever. I
won’t be around forever - ”

“
You’re immortal,” she
retorted.

“
I won’t be around forever,”
he stated again, firmly. “And there’s no guarantee a Null will be
able to keep you in check when you turn sixteen, and the worst of
it comes crashing down on you. You need this bracer to keep you
sane. As long as you can keep your wits, you can beat
it.”

Camille looked up at him, wanting to believe
him. “You sure about that?” After all the lies he’d told, she just
couldn’t fully believe him anymore.

“
What did you think all the
training was for?” He ruffled her hair fondly, but his smile was
weak around the edges. “If you quit fighting, I’ll force feed you
milk tea and chocolate croissants until you get so fat you have to
be rolled around like a giant golden beach ball.”

Camille pulled a face. “Ugh! Milk tea?”

Gabriel shrugged, and turned back to
stirring the bowl. “Your choice. Now go put some more glitter on
that posterboard of yours, that godforsaken festival is tomorrow
and I want the sight of it to sicken Rin.”

Camille smiled, though her heart wasn’t in
it. “That, I can definitely do.”

It was normal banter, but she felt as if,
somehow, something had ended forever.

The school the next day was a riot of color,
with streamers and balloons strung from every corner. Delicate
paper snowflakes hung from the ceiling. Jul reached up a long, thin
arm and twirled one on its string. “I think that’s the closest
we’ll see to snow this year,” she said.

Camille chuckled, carrying a box containing
their display materials. Jul had the posterboard folded and tucked
under her arm, trying not to hit anyone with it as they wove
through the crowd in the hall. Even though the festival hadn’t
technically started yet, most of the students were there setting
up, and some of the families and visitors had already found their
way in. Camille was wearing her kendo uniform since she was
expected to participate in some exhibition matches later.
Truthfully, she was grateful to have the excuse not to dress up,
like most everyone else was. Jul was wearing some sort of dark
violet sheathe dress that looked like silk with a layer of lace
over it, that managed to make her look even taller and thinner than
usual. Or maybe it was the heels.

They followed the flow into the gymnasium,
weaving among the tables of half-assembled science projects.

“
Where’s Gabriel? Didn’t he
come in with you?” Jul asked, and Camille nodded her chin towards
him talking with Ms. Miller off by a table of punch and cookies. He
was back to his usual self, if more sharply dressed than usual -
none of the temper he’d shown last night was present.

“
Your grandmother?” Camille
asked.

“
She dropped me off,” Jul
said, finding their table among the lineup and removing the sheet
of paper printed with
Graham, Ryan,
Sakamoto, Teague.
“Said she’d come by
later, once the festival actually got going. I got the impression
this isn’t really her sort of thing.” A half smile quirked her face
as she unfolded the cardboard.

So Bea was at home. And Gabriel was
distracted. Her own absence would likely go unnoticed for half an
hour or more.

Handing Jul the box, she said, “I’ll be
right back, ok?” Glancing over at Gabriel laughing at something
Charlotte had said, she told Jul, “If Gabriel asks, say I forgot
something at the cafe.”

“
Okay,” Jul said. She looked
confused, but accepted the supplies. “Just don’t make me do this
thing alone, alright?”

Camille smiled. “I won’t.” Her friend’s
stage fright was nothing if not predictable. Pulling on her
favorite hoodie over her gi, she hurried out to the parking lot and
took off at a jog. At this pace, she reached the Graham house in a
mere five minutes.

Camille knocked on the peeling wood door,
peering back at the decrepit Cadillac in Bea’s driveway. She knew
that Jul was waiting for her, but she didn’t know when she’d get
this chance again.

Bea opened the door, surprise clear on her
face. “Camille?”

“
Tell me,” she said, “about
Gabriel.”

Mac

“
Destin can drive us, Mom!
It’s right around the corner, you don’t have to go!” I call out,
standing in front of the refrigerator. I’m starving, but all I see
is condiments and leftover tuna casserole. If she’d let us go to
the festival on our own, we could swing through a drive thru...my
stomach rumbles at the prospect.

“
How many times do I have to
remind you that you’re not riding with anyone who doesn’t have
their license?” she calls back, two rooms away. “And it’s not right
around the corner, but I don’t care how close it is. No license, no
ride.”

I’m already uncomfortable, dressed in the
sort of clothes that are usually reserved for church. Hayley,
because she’s on some decorating committee, had needed to be at the
school earlier, so she’d been dropped off by Dad hours ago on his
way to the airport for a business trip. That still leaves me and
Destin needing a ride to the high school for the main festivities,
but I still don’t see why Mom has to be so strict about who does
the driving.

There’s a loud knock on the front door.

My mom calls from the living room, “If
that’s another tracter, quote them something nice and long from the
Old Testament about judgment and hellfire, and then
ever-so-politely tell them we attend church twice a week and shut
the door. Why anyone would go door-to-door in the Bible Belt...I
swear...it’s like trying to sell candles to a candlemaker.”

I smile, reaching for the handle, because it
would be great if I could remember a huge judgment-y passage from
the Bible just to see the look on their face.

But the person on the other side of the door
has enough judgment and hellfire to go around.

Meredith leans against the frame, grinning.
“‘Allo.”

Reflexively I try to shut
the door but she sticks her foot out, heavy boot wedging it open.
“You know where the Wolf is,” she says, eyes glinting like flint.
“I can smell it on you. It’s not you, but you’re close to it. You
owe me, after that nasty spell in the woods.” She’s wearing a brown
leather jacket, but the shirt underneath still bears the hole
around her midsection where she was impaled. Her skin is pale and
unmarked. I swallow nervously. She can’t be here. This is my house.
I
live
here.

“
Charming an imp to do your
bidding, that was a nifty trick,” she says. “Did you make the spell
that’s hiding the Wolf, too? You’re right young to have talents
like that. I may not be able to follow the beast, like I’m supposed
to - but I can follow you, and burn everything you touch until you
take me to it.” She looks over my shoulder, smirking. “Is it
him?”

I bristle, instinctively knowing Destin’s
come out of the kitchen. “No, it’s not,” I say fervently. “Go
bother someone else. I don’t know who your stupid Wolf is.”

“
You do,” she states,
staring down at me.

“
Mac,” Destin warns, under
his breath.

“
No, I’m serious,” I say,
hoping I
sound
serious. “This is my house, you can’t come in.”

She makes a leering grin. “What, you think
I’m a vampire or something, that I can’t cross the threshold
without an invitation? Those pulp fiction monsters from the cinema
aren’t real. You have no idea what you’re messing with, little boy.
I’ve held back thus far because I think you’re funny. Much more of
this, though, I’ll stop thinking that. If you want to escape this
with your happy little suburban life in tact, you will give me the
Wolf. This house is structurally unsound, you know...” she intones,
eyeing the eaves and the timbers that uphold the porch.

“
You’re crazy,” I say,
repeating, “I don’t know your stupid Wolf. You’re imagining
things.” She can’t. She cannot set my house on fire. My mom is in
the living room. “If you don’t leave, I’ll call the
police.”

She laughs at that, hearty and loud. “Oh do,
do. I love policemen. They’re usually smokers.” Her voice drops as
she says conspiratorially, in her thick British accent, “Lungs full
of tar, my boy, they burn like charcoal briquettes. Roast a man
from the inside out. It’s quite the spectacle.”

My hand on the doorknob grips tighter to
keep from shaking. What had we done? Is this all real? Freaky crap
doesn’t happen at my house. This is where my stuff is. This is the
place where I hide my sister’s makeup and play video games and have
Thanksgiving with my family and Destin and his dad.

When you go looking for adventure, it isn’t
supposed to follow you home and burn your house down.

“
Are we going to cooperate,
then?” she says, smirking at my expression.

I swallow, looking up at her, hearing
Tailor’s warning in the back of my head. What do I do?

“
Meredith?” my mother says,
coming in from the living room.

Wait, what?
The disheveled woman on the doorstep looks as
confused as I feel.

“
Oh my god, Meredith!” my
mother exclaims, running up and throwing her arms around the woman.
“I can’t believe you’re showing up here! I never thought I’d see
you again! What are you doing out of London?”

“
I’m...uh...” Meredith
flounders, “ah...visiting you,” she says unconvincingly, but my
mother buys it.

“
I can’t believe you
remembered where I live!”

“
Aye, that’s me,” she says.
“Remembering things. That’s what I do. Mind like a steel trap.” She
taps a finger against her skull.

What the hell was going on?

“
Mom!” I protest.

“
Oh! Mac, this is an old
friend of mine from college. Meredith Ender. Well, I was in
college. She wasn’t really in school. It was during the year I was
studying abroad in London.”

“
Showed you the ropes, did
I?” Meredith says, but it sounds to me more like she’s fishing for
information than reminiscing.

“
A little too well,” my mom
confirms, with a little giggle. “I wonder if that pub still has us
on the no-fly list.”

“
That was a long time ago,”
Meredith states with uncertainty.

My mom sighs. “Don’t remind me. I’m starting
to feel my age. But look at you, you haven’t aged a day! Well, are
you going to come in or not?”

“
Mom!
” I protest louder. How could she possibly know this person
and still want her in our house?

“
Mac, she is company. What
is your problem?”

What’s your problem?
I wanted to shout back, but Mom clearly has no
idea. The tattooed woman grins wickedly at me and follows my mother
through the foyer, into the living room. “Nice digs,” she
comments.

“
We do alright,” my mother
says modestly. “To tell you the truth, some days I wake up and
wonder how I got here.”

“
Who do those boys belong
to?” Meredith asks, glancing at Destin and I, standing stupidly in
the hallway. “They can’t be yours.”

“
Oh, I can only claim Mac,”
my mother says obliviously, smiling at me. “Destin lives next door.
He’s over here often enough he might as well be mine,
though.”

“
Is that right,” Meredith
comments, regarding me curiously. I don’t understand the sudden
interest. “Well he does look just like you. The hair.” She makes a
vague gesture between me and my mother.