Under the Rose (32 page)

“Micah.”

She nodded. “I figured I had a choice: I could either be this good person, or I could be like you.”

“Thanks.”

“You know what I mean. I had spent my whole life working hard, being good, making the right decisions, trying to live the kind of life Christ wants me to, but I couldn’t do it.”

“I think I’m missing where you’re falling short.”

“It’s tough to explain.”

“It’s tough to explain to a non-Christian, or it’s tough to explain because the explanation doesn’t sound very Christian at all?”

She hesitated. “The latter.”

“The part where you destroy us for the glory of God.”

“Yes.”

“Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord.”

She was quiet for a moment. “Hebrews 10:30?”

“Romans 12. I think. But it could be both. When He really means something, I think God says it a couple of times.”

“Right.” Jenny swallowed. “You read the Bible?”

“I took a class.”

She let that sink in for a bit, then continued. “So you understand that I couldn’t really wrap my head around it. I spent a lot of time praying for guidance, but the only answer I got was that betraying the society would be wrong. And Micah said it was because I’d been…corrupted.”

“That asshole.”

Her lower lip began to quiver again. “So I had a choice. And being good wasn’t working. Hadn’t worked. But you—you were perfectly happy.”

“I was?”

“You looked it. And you had George and that other boy from the coffee shop. The way they look at you—”

Brandon?!?
“You’re mistaken, Jenny. I’m not involved—”

“If Micah ever looked at me that way, I’d be happy forever.” She met my eyes. “I’d do anything. You know what I mean.”

“This is sounding like the beginning of
Faust,
but yes.”

“So we fought—you and me—and then…I don’t know. I wanted to prove you weren’t right about everything, and that you didn’t have it all.”

Me?
“How did you go about proving this?”

“I decided to seduce Micah.”

I needed more than a splash of Grand Marnier. “Because of me.”

She sucked in air through her teeth. “I know. It sounds dumb, right?”

“It sounds like
an excuse.
”

“Which it was. I see that now. Anyway, it didn’t work. He…didn’t…want me.”

She burst into tears again and I slid out of my seat and over to her side of the booth. I put my arms around her and she leaned into my shoulder, sobbing. “Hey, it’s okay.” Heck, it was more than okay, considering Micah Price was a bastard of the highest caliber. But that kind of logic doesn’t go well with a broken heart.

“I was going to give him exactly what he wanted. Everything he wanted. Well, almost. I couldn’t bear to give him the Black Books—not even then—but I compromised.”

“Had the same effect.”

She peered up from between damp eyelashes. “I know it doesn’t make a difference. Betrayal is betrayal. But it felt like it gave me a little control. I could pick and choose the least damaging things. I didn’t expect the media to latch on like that. It was all so innocuous, hardly secrets at all.”

“Where did you find that website?”

“It belongs to one of Micah’s friends. Very private guy. Very off-the-grid. He’s never even told me his real name. I offered to help him redesign the site once—make it look a little more user-friendly, a little more…professional, and he freaked.”

“And we’re the weird ones?” I asked ruefully.

She gave me a halfhearted smile. “So we sent him a breakdown of the rituals and the club lists and stuff, and then Micah and I celebrated. It was going to be phase one. Everything was perfect.”

“Until?”

“Until I kissed him. Even that was perfect, at first. And then I did something wrong, or got aggressive, or I don’t know what.” She pulled away from me, but kept her face cast downward. “He pushed me away. I fell on the floor. He started shouting at me. Terrible things. Awful things. He said I’d been ruined…that the…Diggers had…ruined me.” She looked at me. “Amy, I was kissing him. That’s all. He didn’t even want to kiss me. What’s wrong with me?”

Where did she want me to start? “Nothing is ‘wrong’ with you. Not like that anyway.” It wasn’t necessary for me to be explicit about how many issues her boyfriend had, was it? “Do what you want: Drink or don’t. Have sex, or don’t. It’s up to you. Nobody I respect judges you for it.”

“After he left, I didn’t know what to do. I was crying like…like I’ve never cried. I couldn’t take it. And I didn’t have anywhere to turn. I don’t have friends who aren’t Micah’s—not anymore. I couldn’t go to you guys, not after what I’d done. And to listen to Micah, God hated me, too. I was all alone. So I ran.”

“Here.” I looked at her. “Why not home?”

“Right,” she said, lifting her head. “My parents would be so thrilled to learn I was upset because my attempt to seduce the boy they hated and thought was turning me away from the Church after the two of us conspired to ruin the possibly Satanic secret society I’d joined had backfired. That would go over beautifully.” She bit her lip. “I don’t know if you noticed, Amy, but my folks are a little controlling.”

I stared at her. “How do you know I talked to your folks?”

She smirked. “Please. I’ve had my home phone tapped for years. That’s how I knew you were looking for me.”

Would wonders never cease? “Of course I was looking for you! I thought something terrible had happened to you. That note on your computer screen…”

“Yeah.” Her expression turned sheepish. “That was the idea.”

“Why?”

“Because I wanted to see if he really loved me. And the answer is—he doesn’t.”

“What if the police had gotten involved? Jenny, you could be in big trouble.”

“I know. And I know now that I wasn’t thinking very clearly. I’ve had the last few days to calm down.”

“And I’ve had the last few days to freak out.”

She dipped her head again, but there was no hair to fall in her face. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I don’t know how to make it up to you. I don’t expect any of you to ever forgive me.”

“That’s good. Keep your expectations nice and low,” I said.

She blew her nose again. “I don’t know what I’m going to do now. Everything is so screwed up. I’ve been praying a lot. I even went to church. Catholic church. Took communion. Haven’t done that in a while.”

“Why not? Oh, wait, let me guess, Micah doesn’t like it.”

Jenny banged her head a few times against the back of the booth. “I’m such an idiot. I’m such an idiot. Why?”

“I’m going to assume that’s rhetorical. We all turn into idiots in matters of the heart.”

“How about matters of the soul? All this time, I thought everything Micah was teaching me was bringing me closer to Christ. I really believed that. But now I think I’ve let Him down.” (I’m assuming the capital here.)

I put my arm around her again. “I think He can handle it.”

“Yeah. But can I? I’ve been going crazy these last few days.”

“These last few days?” I slid my eyes toward her. “You have an apartment under a false name. I think you went crazy a while ago.”

“That’s fair.”

“And your hair? Why did you do that?”

“Leviticus. Absolution.”

Um, whatever. “I don’t know if anyone in the club will accept it as a peace offering.”

She knit her brows. “I didn’t mean it for the Diggers. I sent it to Micah.”

“It was on the front step of the tomb this morning, in an envelope—” I broke off. “God dammit.” I cringed and looked at Jenny. “Sorry. But I bet I know who left that thing on our porch this morning.” I pulled out my cell phone. “I’m calling Josh to ask if he can peel that address label off the envelope and see if Micah’s address is underneath.”

“Trust me, it is. Sneak move of his, though.” She put her hand over mine. “Don’t contact Josh yet. I’m not done with the story.”

“I just want to tell him to call off the dogs of war. You’re safe and…well, if not sound, then at least on your way there.”

“Eh, I’d let that go for a minute. We’re going to need those dogs.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

“The unwilling patriarchs, chasing us down? Going through your dorm room and mine? Coming into the city?”

“Right. They’re looking for you, to make you pay for releasing that information.”

“Not exactly. I mean, I’ve no doubt they’d like to pay me back. But I don’t think that’s what they’ve been looking for. They want to know if I know what I know, and if I’ve told you.”

“What do you know?”

Jenny sneaked a peek at the rest of the room. “Not here.” She signaled for the check and threw some money onto the table. “Amy, it really means a lot to me that you tracked me down.”

“Why? I’m pretty pissed at you, remember? I mean, all of this huggy stuff aside, I’m still furious at you for everything you did.”

“But you also cared whether I was alive or dead. Which is more than I can say for anyone else. If I’d called you earlier this week, I bet you would have been there for me, no matter how mad you were. You really believe in your oaths, don’t you? You believe we should love each other.”

“Sometimes,” I said. “But I wouldn’t start preparing the application to beatify me just yet. Mostly, I think we should try to keep each other safe from danger.”

“Well, you found me. So right now, you’re my best friend.”

“Poe found you, too,” I reminded her. Fines, at the moment, were a bit moot. “Believe me, he’s been working his ass off. Why can’t you trust him?”

She pulled on her coat. “After what I’m about to tell you,” she said, standing, “you won’t trust him, either.”

I hereby confess:

Confession, barbarian

or otherwise, is good

for the soul.

17.

Elysion

This time, the super merely gave me a curious look as Jenny swept us past him and up the landing. “Everything okay, Miss Lovelace?”

“Fine,” she called.

“I still can’t get over the idea that you have another alias,” I said, as we climbed the flights.

“I’ve even got a few more online.”

“You’re a mystery, Jenny. I don’t understand why all the pretending.”

“You get used to it, I guess. I grew up on computers, where no one was who they said they were: not their age, or gender, or nationality, or name. Nobody knew who I really was except for kids at school or church. When I sold my software, they didn’t even know I was fifteen until we were so far into the deal they couldn’t back out. They didn’t know I was a girl either, for that matter. After a while, it seemed weird to use my real name for anything. You’re so vulnerable. Everyone knows your business. It’s impossible to stay off the grid, but you can reduce your presence.”

And somewhere between her cyber-background and her strict upbringing, she started hiding more and more of herself away. How come none of us had seen this? “But you have property under a false name—is that even legal?”

She frowned outside her door. “I don’t know. Maybe I should ask my lawyers. I just assumed they had it covered. I don’t think I
own
the property under the false name. I think my alias is ‘renting’ from myself. Whatever. I let the lawyers handle the paperwork.”

She undid several locks on the door and stepped inside, but I was too busy trying to make sense of it to follow right away. “How can I possibly trust you?” I asked. “You’ve lied, you’ve
spied,
you’ve been throwing pseudonyms and fifty-dollar bills around for who knows how long, and to top it off, I don’t think you like me very much.”

“I know,” said Jenny, relocking (and relocking and relocking) the door behind us, then throwing the chain for good measure. “I would have a hard time trusting me if I were in your position, but bear with me a little longer.”

“I’ve been making a lot of allowances lately,” I said. “I was even nice to Poe.”

“I bet I’ll be a cinch after him.” She hung up her raincoat. “Welcome to my humble abode.”

Humble was right. There was a lot of space, to be sure, and a lovely hardwood floor, but not much else. Wall-to-wall computers, a coffee machine, and a mattress in the corner. No new paint, no curtains, no decorations of any kind, and the only furniture was purely utilitarian: folding tables for the computers and a big ergonomic chair.