Kelly Meding: As Lie the Dead

“It was a shit apartment.”

Okay, true. “It was your home.”

He still faced away, his profile stony. “It was a place I slept.”

“I’m sorry about Nadia,” I said, switching tactics. His Triad had to mean more to him than the hole he’d chosen to live in—even if I didn’t understand why he’d lived there or why he seemed so ready to give in to the Assembly’s judgment. And I didn’t have time to pick his brain.

I had to get through to him, though. “And I’m sorry about Tully and Wormer. Truly sorry, Rufus, but we lost even more people last night. If humans are going to stay on top of whatever shit storm is still coming, we need every advantage we can get. And right now, that’s you. You’re an experienced Handler, and you’ve trained a lot of Hunters. You are not expendable. Not like this.”

Seconds passed, marked by the squealing of wheels on a cart and the beeping of someone’s monitor across the hall. Sunlight dimmed outside, probably a passing cloud. He turned his head back to me, met my gaze. His hazel eyes were determined and brimmed with … admiration? Nah, couldn’t be.

“You should have been a combat general,” he said.

I smiled. “Sometimes I feel like one.”

“So what’s this grand plan to save my life?”

“Let’s just say things are going to change higher up the food chain than most people will expect.”

His lips parted, eyes widening. “You’re going after the brass?”

“Now if I said yes, you’d probably be duty bound to report me, so I’m not saying anything. Just that I’ve got a time limit on this, so I can’t hang around to chat much longer.” I touched his wrist, the only unbandaged part of his arm. “I just wanted you to know. I owe you that.”

“Something tells me when this is all over, I’m going to be owing you.”

“We’ll see.”

“So how exactly are you not going to go about not tracking down people whose identities I don’t know, so you cannot bring them in for punishment by the Assembly? If I may not ask?”

“To be honest, I don’t have a fucking clue.” I winked. “Which means I should get started, because time’s wasting.”

“Good luck.”

“Thanks. And if you have any helpful epiphanies in the next couple of days …”

“I’ll contact you.”

“Okay, then.”

We didn’t say good-bye. Didn’t seem important. As I strode across the room, toward the hall, something from the start of our conversation popped back into the forefront of my mind. The comment that he and Wyatt had hated each other at the start of their careers with the Triads, disagreed over how the teams should be run. I didn’t know the exact history of the Triads, only that they’d been around for the last ten years or so. We didn’t exactly have a Batcave or headquarters, or a special place to record and read up on our citywide antics. I’m sure the brass had records up the wazoo, and more and more, I itched to get my hands on them.

Something told me they’d be a fascinating read.

I almost made it to the elevators unnoticed. Almost.

“Evy, wait,” Wyatt shouted.

Damn. I pressed the call button anyway, then turned around. Wyatt and Kismet sprinted down the corridor wearing identical expressions of confusion. The elevator still hadn’t come by the time they reached me.

“Where are you going?” Kismet asked.

“I have some things that need to get done,” I said. “And, as usual, my time is somewhat crunched.”

“You weren’t going to wait?” Wyatt asked. The unsaid “for me” hung in the air, put there by the genuine hurt in his voice.

“Rufus is one of ours,” Kismet said. “Whatever you’re planning, we want to help.”

“Not if you want to keep your jobs, you don’t,” I said.

Wyatt narrowed his eyes. “What did you say to Phineas?”

“We made a little side deal. If I keep my end up, Rufus avoids their punishment.”

“And if you don’t?”

“I get one more notch in my belt of people I’ve failed.”

Kismet said, “There’s got to be something we can do, Stone.”

“There is. Do you trust your Hunters?”

“With my life.” Not a second’s hesitation—good.

“I need one of them to go back to my apartment with Wyatt.”

“Screw that, Evy,” Wyatt said. “I’m staying with you.”

“Wyatt—”

“No.” He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at me, in full intimidation mode. He’d made up his mind. Damn the consequences and full steam ahead.

“Fine,” I snapped. “Look, Kismet, I need one of your people to watch my apartment. I’ve got some precious goods hiding there for a while, and I can’t babysit and do this at the same time.”

“I can reassign Felix to it,” she said. “How long?”

“Probably for the day, but I’ll get in touch with you.”

“I don’t suppose there’s any chance you’ll tell me what you’re up to next?”

I shook my head, and the elevator dinged its arrival. “Definitely better if you don’t know. What’s that term for it?”

“Plausible deniability,” Wyatt said.

“Yeah, that.”

“Anything else?” Kismet asked.

Six people exited the elevator, leaving it empty for entering passengers. Turned out to be just me and Wyatt. He stepped halfway inside and held the door.

“We need a car,” I said.

Kismet produced a key ring and tossed it to me. Two keys and a remote on a plastic fob. “It’s in the garage, third level.”

“Yours?”

“Nope.”

“Good.” I slipped into the elevator; Wyatt stepped back to join me. As the doors slid shut, I gave Kismet a sharp nod, which she returned.

“So do I get to know the plan?” Wyatt asked once we were alone.

“You’ll know it as soon as I know it,” I replied, pocketing the car keys.

He groaned. “At least tell me our objective.”

“Putting blame for the Owlkin massacre where it belongs.”

He turned his body sideways, not quite confrontational but definitely cornering me. “You’re going to hunt down the brass?”

“Yep.”

“And then what? Make them volunteer to take responsibility for the order? You’ll never get that close, Evy.”

“They’re not gods, Wyatt,” I said, frustrated. “They don’t sit in some temple, far beyond our reach. They are three human beings who work somewhere in this city, and someone has to know who they are. It’s about goddamn time they got their hands dirty, too.”

“That’s why we exist, Evy, so they don’t have to.”

“Well, things are changing, and I think it’s time we revised the system. If last night’s any indication, we won’t be able to hide the Dregs much longer, and what happens when that shit hits the fan? You want to rely on three nameless, faceless people to keep control of things when they aren’t even down here on the streets with us? Hurting and dying alongside us?”

“You say ‘we’ like you’re still a part of this,” Wyatt said softly. “I thought you were done with the Triads.”

“I don’t work for them anymore, but I’m still in this mess. We’re in this mess, and if doing a little sleuthing and exposing my old bosses helps me keep my word to Phineas, then so be it.”

“No matter the consequences?”

I rolled my eyes. “We’ve both died once already, Wyatt. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“You really just said that, didn’t you?” he asked with a groan.

The elevator stopped on level M, below the first floor and above the basement, and the doors opened to a wide, short corridor. Dank air tinged with the odors of oil and exhaust greeted us as we exited down the corridor to the lowest level of the parking garage.

Another elevator was on our left; I beelined for the stairs next to it. Wyatt followed behind me, in silence, to the third level. I dug the keys out of my pocket and surveyed the long rows of parked vehicles.