Watershed (37 page)

‘Shh, Alex. It's okay. It's okay, I got you. It's all right. Shh.'

Her cries died to sobs and she suddenly went limp in my arms, her legs dangling. Scooping her up, I carried her over to the cot, feeling my way with my feet and feeding the chain back into the wall, so it no longer pulled on her neck. Where the hell was the lamp? Lowering her onto the mattress, I turned and edged along the wall trying to find it, striking the match with shaking hands, holding it to the blackened wick until it caught and smoked and the warm glow flickered, dispelling the dark to cornered shadows.

‘No! Put it out.' She curled into a ball, away from me, wrapped in her own embrace, knees drawn up and head tucked low.

‘Alex?' I moved back to the cot and crouched beside it, extending a hand to her shoulder, cursing when she flinched. ‘I'm not going to hurt you.' I kept my hand pressed to her, not moving it, just letting her feel its weight, but her trembling grew worse and I realised she was crying.

‘Oh shit, Alex. What've they done to you?'

Keeping my hand still and steady, I checked her over but there were no cuts or welts, just a reddening bruise where I'd smashed
her against the wall, and blood on the mattress, but none on her. At least not that I could see, and gently I pulled at her to get her to roll over and face me.

‘No,' she groaned. ‘Put out the lamp. Please, Jem? Put it out.' She struggled again, but I was firm.

‘Not until I've made sure you're all right. It's okay, I won't hurt you.'

‘You shouldn't be here. You – please, I don't want you to see.' Her voice rose, high with sudden anger. ‘Just leave!'

‘See what?' I said, so afraid. ‘Alex, what have they done?'

Despite my assurances, I forced her over. She really struggled then, spitting and hitting out at me, but I was stronger. Pinning her wrists with one hand, I pushed her knees down, uncurling and exposing her, while she panted and squirmed and then I let go, dropping my hold, because what I saw was so, so sick, and all I could hear were her words on that first morning as she'd watched me clean my chest, her taunt, and the spiteful note in her voice.

Did it hurt when they made them?

What do you think?

I think, yes.

Well, now she knew. Because Alex had been marked. Just like me, but not at all. One large cross, from chest to groin, quartered her stomach, carving it up. Red and weeping, so deep and dark against her pale skin, and so cruel, I had to look away.

‘No!' she cried, and belted my face. Then again, hard and sharp. ‘You wanted to see? Then see, Jem. Take a good look. I'm one of you now!'

She reared up, flailing me with tight fists and I let her. Just crouched there with bowed head while she punched and pushed and screamed at me, ‘I hate you! Hate you, hate you. Hate.
You
!'

I let her because I didn't hate her.

‘I hate you,' she sobbed again and fell against me, spent and empty, with nothing to add. She'd pretty much said it all.

‘I'll kill him,' I said, breaking the silence. ‘I'll fucking kill him!'

But she just hit me again. ‘That's your answer to everything, isn't it?'

I caught her fist, and pulled back to look at her. ‘Yes,' I admitted, without shame. ‘That's what I do. It's why I'm here, remember? To get rid of him.' Only now there was even more reason.

She laughed then, cackled, and I grabbed her other hand, just in case. There was only so much punishment I was prepared to take.

‘It wasn't him,' she said. ‘Garrick –'

‘Then who?' But I already knew. As soon as I asked the question, I knew.

‘I don't know! A Watchman,' she said, and then her eyes narrowed. ‘Just like you.' Cruel words, more hateful than her fists.

‘What else did he do?' I asked. She tried to pull her hands free but I tightened my grip. ‘Tell me, Alex. What else?'

‘Why, Jem?' she sneered. ‘Because this isn't enough for you? Are you asking if he fucked me? How many times, and how many others? Shall I give you the details? Do you want to know if I enjoyed it?'

I didn't. Couldn't even bear to think about it, but I had to know. And one tiny part of me was hoping he had. One part was hoping the whole Watch had taken her. Because if they hadn't, then everything I'd thought to be true wasn't any more.

‘Just answer the bloody question,' I said, because I could be cruel too.

She glared at me, but I stared her down. ‘No, he didn't do anything else,' she said at last. ‘No one has.'

‘Not even Garrick?'

‘Are you deaf? I said no one.'

‘Shit,' I sighed, relief and fear taking me by turns, messing with my heart and my mind.

Her mouth tightened. ‘Strange. I thought you'd be more pleased.'

‘Alex, you don't understand. Garrick never sends anyone here without breaking them first. Ever.'

‘Maybe I'm not his sort,' she snapped.

But remembering his threat when he'd sewn up my leg, as well as everything else I knew about him, I shook my head. ‘If you've got a pulse, you're Garrick's sort.' And I wasn't entirely convinced about needing a pulse either.

‘That's not funny.'

No, it wasn't. Not in the least. And seeing her so close to tears, I undid my cloak and stood to wrap it around her before gathering her up and sitting back on the cot. It felt good to hold her again, even in that room, on that filthy mattress. Felt good to touch her skin and draw on her warmth and her strength. And I needed that strength, because mine was exhausted. I was tired – just so fucking tired – and all I wanted to do was close my eyes and forget about everything except her. I'd bought her four hours for nothing, but every drop was worth it just to be there. Slowly she relaxed and I felt the tension ease out of her while I thought about what I knew. And what I didn't.

‘When were you cut?' I asked her. The wound was raw and angry and her exertions had opened it up again, but some of the edges had already started to crust.

‘I don't know. After you left me. Someone brought me down here and – he came in, with that other one, and …' Her voice died, and she let out a sob. ‘Oh God, Jem, he had this knife. So big and – I was so scared. I was prepared for Garrick, but not –'

‘Shh. I know. I'm sorry.' I rocked her some more, hating that she'd been alone all this time, so afraid and in pain, and now scarred and maimed like me. And I kept rocking until I felt her relax again. ‘Tell me about Garrick. When you were with him, what did he say?'

Another small sob and a long silence, but I didn't push. Just let her take the time she needed.

‘There was another room, another girl there, on a bed. She was tied, and she – she – I think she was unconscious. God, I hope she was. I thought he was going to –' She paused again, and I felt her shudder. ‘But he didn't. He just laughed and said it was my lucky day.'

‘What else?' I urged.

I felt her tense and waited for the rest, but she just shook her head, rolling it on my chest. ‘Nothing. That was it.'

I soothed, letting it go but feeling the worry build. Because her story made no sense. Garrick often kept more than one prisoner at a time in that room. If Alex had been spared, it had fuck all to do with luck, or any kind of sudden remorse. Everything Garrick did, he did for a reason. No matter how cruel or how meaningless it might seem to others.

‘Alex, I need to ask you a question, and I need you to think real hard before you answer, okay?' She tensed again, but nodded. ‘Back at the mine, right at the beginning, Ballard told me there was a plan to kill Garrick and that another Watchman was dead. A guy named Reed. Did he mention that to you?'

She took a while before answering, taking her time like I'd asked. ‘I knew about Garrick, yes. But I don't think he ever mentioned the other one.'

‘So how did you find out about Garrick surviving? And how would Ballard have known about Reed? Who would've sent those messages?'

She gave a small shrug. ‘Probably Cade. Everyone sent news to him, and he'd send it on to where it needed to go. He said it was the only way to keep track of everything. Why?' She sat up, holding the chain to ease the pressure on her neck. I wanted to break the fucking thing.

‘The man who did this,' I said, pressing her belly lightly with my hand; she didn't flinch. ‘It was Reed. He's not dead. I thought
I saw him here a couple of days ago. Then yesterday I found out for sure.'

‘So Garrick ordered this?' she demanded, but she kept her voice low, and there was a hardness to it I hadn't heard before.

I shook my head, still thinking. If he hadn't touched her upstairs, he'd have left her alone here too. Garrick never bothered with the whores once they left his room. With a steady supply of fresh meat, he didn't have to. And the more I thought about it, the more I realised this wasn't his style – he'd never have given a woman the mark of the Watch.

‘No. I don't think I was s'posed to see Reed,' I said. ‘This was a good place for him to hide. I never come down here.' Except Garrick had made sure I had and, when I'd screwed it up the first time, he'd come to my room and left me the evidence. Warning me, not once, but twice. Garrick had wanted me to know about Reed. But why?

‘Reed has to be working for someone else,' I said, finally putting it out there. ‘Someone who wanted me to think he was dead.' Perhaps wanting Ballard to think the same.

‘Who?' Alex asked. When I didn't say anything, she glared at me. ‘It's not Cade, if that's what you're thinking.'

‘Who else could it be? I know what I saw, and Reed is alive. So either Ballard lied to me, or Cade lied to Ballard. You tell me, which is more likely?' It wasn't like Ballard hadn't lied before, or at least not always told the entire truth, but no matter which way I looked at it, I couldn't see what he had to gain.

‘Neither! Cade would never do this to me. He'd never do it to anyone. Nor would Ballard.'

‘Someone ordered it, Alex.'

‘Not Cade. He's my husband for God's sake!'

‘I know what he is,' I said, sharp and sour. ‘I don't need you reminding me.'

‘Don't you?' she sneered. ‘My
husband
, Jem. A good man.'

Except she'd said the same thing about Ballard, right before he'd shot me full of darts. Alex had a real screwy concept of good.

‘That husband of yours is the only reason you're here,' I said. ‘I already know this whole thing was his idea.'

‘Who told you that?' she whispered.

‘Well, it sure wasn't Cade.'

‘You don't understand. You just –'

‘For fuck's sake, Alex. You've been down here four days already. No one's bought you, or even tried to use you. Who has the most to gain from that?' I asked.

‘Use me?' she echoed, and I heard her scorn. ‘Is that why you came here, Jem? To
use
me?'

‘Don't.' Fingering the metal band around her neck, I jerked it hard, bringing her closer. ‘I didn't need you chained to a wall the last time we fucked. Remember?'

She snarled and shot out a hand, but this time I was ready and blocked it easily.

‘Don't, Alex!' I warned. ‘I get that you're angry and scared, but I'm not the enemy. Don't hit me again. There's a reason Reed marked you. There's a reason Garrick left you alone. I'm just trying to figure it out.'

‘No! Listen to what you're saying. I've known Cade for years. So have Ballard and Tate.'

‘Then how would Cade have known about Reed? Where did he get his information?'

‘Everywhere!' A few beats and then she added, sullen and suspicious, ‘But deaths are always confirmed by the Tower. They keep the records.'

‘That's right,' I said. ‘They do. And who controls the Tower?'

‘The Council,' she muttered.

‘And who sits on the Council?' When she didn't reply, I answered for her. ‘Cade's father.'

‘No! Cade hasn't got any influence over the Watch, or Garrick. None. My God, if he did, don't you think he would've put a stop to all this by now?'

‘I dunno, Alex, you tell me. Coz right now, everything's leading straight to your husband.'

‘You're wrong, Jem. He's never lied to me. Neither has Ballard. They're –'

‘Don't say it,' I snapped. I was fed up hearing just how good everyone was. ‘Nobody's perfect, Alex. All of us fuck up at some point, for whatever reason, and everyone lies when –' I broke off, and stared at her. ‘Oh shit.'

My grandfather had once told me about these weird pictures they used to have, made up of tiny coloured squares. If you looked at them straight, they were just a jumble with no pattern or purpose. But if you focused in just the right way, at just the right angle, a picture would appear within that jumble, so clear you'd wonder how you'd not been able to see it before. Like magic, he'd said. And after that first reveal, you'd see it every time, without even having to try. I was beginning to see that picture now, the one that'd been hidden in a mess of lies and treachery. And it was so fucking clear it was frightening.

‘Jem? What is it?' Alex asked, pushing at my chest, and I wondered if she could feel it, that sudden lurch, the stop-start of my blood.

‘Everyone lies, Alex,' I whispered. ‘Everyone fucking lies.' Except one person.

‘What d'you mean?' she asked. Then, her voice rising a little, ‘Jem, you're scaring me.'

‘You were right. Cade has no control over the Watch,' I said. ‘But someone else does.'

‘Yes. Garrick.'

I shook my head. ‘Higher.'

There are times when long explanations are needed, when arguments have to be worked through, unfolded and opened up, so everyone can see and marvel and worry and fear. Plenty of times. But this wasn't one of them. A few seconds was all it took for her to see what I did, and when she groaned and I heard her despair, I slipped a hand behind her neck to bring her closer, needing her and knowing she needed me too. Easing back against the wall, I settled her head into my shoulder; it felt good there, like it was made for it.