Kelly Mendig - Three Days to Dead

“You’re a fool, Wyatt,” Rufus said at last. “Born one, and you’ll die one.”

Starting out with a verbal challenge—not good. I expected Wyatt to usher me back out of the fridge and slam the door, giving Rufus more time to “chill.” Instead, he asked, “How’s that?”

“For believing Tovin.” Wyatt arched his eyebrows, the only indication that Rufus’s words surprised him. “For your insistence in holding on to the naïve idea that people like us get happy endings. How can you think for a second you’ll get away with what you’ve done?”

“It’s not about happiness anymore, Rufus. Right now it’s about justice for Evy, and stopping what’s about to happen.”

“Ah yes, the infamous deal between goblins and Bloods. Why is it no one else has heard of this? Why isn’t the brass all over it, Wyatt? You’re putting yourself up against a dozen other races, and for what? There’s no cause; no effect. It’s all in your head.”

“Is that what they’re saying? Poor Truman has lost his mind, so let’s bring him in for the public’s safety?”

“No, for your safety. Everyone knows you’re powerful, and now they think you’re insane. The old Wyatt Truman would never have tortured a friend for answers that don’t exist. The old Wyatt Truman wouldn’t have made a freewill deal to resurrect a wanted murderer just to further his fantasy of redemption.”

Wyatt lunged. I blocked him and was nearly bowled over for my efforts. I pressed my hands against Wyatt’s shoulders, holding him still. Fury flickered in his eyes, bright as fire and just as dangerous. I held my ground, my own temper peaking.

A freewill deal.

I’d questioned the bruises on Wyatt’s abdomen, as well as his simmering anger, in the were-cat’s apartment when I questioned his investment. Magic isn’t cheap, and it’s often dangerous. Because it breaks that tenuous barrier between life and death, I’d been unable to imagine the price Wyatt had paid to bring me back. Nothing seemed like enough, and I had never pondered such a huge sacrifice.

A freewill deal is exactly how it sounds—the willing trade of one’s free will in exchange for magic. Only the most powerful mages in any species can perform such a bargain, resolve tested by the beating and contract signed with blood. Wyatt had traded his free will in order to give me three more days.

“I’m the one who will be dead again in two and a half days, not you.” In some ways, he would die. He would be subject to the will of his master for the rest of his natural life. Way longer than my three days. All for what was in my head.

No pressure .

“Wyatt, don’t,” I said.

The tone of my voice drained away some of his fight, and Wyatt took two steps backward, hands fisted by his sides. I pivoted and looked down. Rufus gazed at me, eyebrows knitted together, lips slightly parted. His eyes darted back and forth, studying me. Understanding what he’d just seen.

“Who are you?” Rufus asked.

“A wanted murderer,” I said. “Nice to see you again, Rufie. How’s Tully? Still addicted to sunflower seeds?”

His mouth curled into a silent O. “Evangeline?”

“In someone else’s flesh.”

Rufus closed his eyes and, if possible, went paler. When he again looked at me, grief and resignation warred for dominance. “I’m so sorry, Evy, that he pulled you into this fantasy. He should have let you rest in peace.”

“Yesterday, I might have agreed with you, Rufus, but today? Not so much. Wyatt isn’t crazy. Something is happening; we heard it this morning from a gargoyle. The races are choosing sides, and something’s about to blow.”

I crouched in front of him, trying hard not to shiver in the chilly room. “Now, I’m thinking one of two things is happening here. Either the brass know what’s coming down and are trying to cover it up by making an example of me and Wyatt, or—are you ready for this? — someone in the Fey Council is keeping us in the dark. They aren’t talking to your bosses, so nothing comes down to you. The Triads stay running in circles, hunting one another, while something else much more sinister takes place right under our noses.”

Rufus sneezed, and a tremor racked his body. “Why did you kill your partners?”

I blew air between my teeth, creating a frustrated whistle. “I didn’t; not really.” I explained it again, as it had happened. The mere fact that Jesse had been turned before death shocked Rufus as much as it had shocked Wyatt. Nothing like a dose of truthfulness to wake you up to reality.

I sensed warmth behind me. Wyatt stood to my right side, so close I felt his heat. Tension vibrated from his body. Rufus shifted his attention between us, coming to some sort of silent decision, weighing my words against Wyatt’s actions.

“Why would they lie?” Rufus asked. “About Jesse, I mean.”

“Like she said,” Wyatt replied. “To keep the Triads off balance and hunting one another, instead of sniffing around what’s really going on. If the attack on my Triad was a setup from the get-go, we’ve all been played for fools. You and Baylor and Kismet have been so wrapped up in hunting—first for Evy, and then for me—that you haven’t had time to notice anything else happening.”

“Like a consolidation of power?”

“Precisely.”

It made a horrifying kind of sense. Handlers had a free hand to run their Triads as they saw fit, doling out assignments and keeping tabs on the activities of their Hunters, but even the Handlers had bosses (the brass) to report to—three officers in the upper echelons of the Metro Police Department, whose identities were carefully guarded. Especially from the regular police department.

Triads are isolated, only allies to one another. The real cops can’t help us; normal people barely notice us. Turn us against one another and we fall apart; change the status quo and the center can’t hold. As Triad Handlers, if Rufus, Baylor, and Kismet received a Neutralize order from the brass, they followed it. No questions. Just action.

“We need to find out who got rid of the bodies,” I said.

Rufus blinked. “Which bodies?”

“All of the Halfies that Ash, Jesse, and I killed that night. The ones that support my version of events.” I swallowed against a lump in my throat. “I had to leave them to call for backup, but I was blindsided by Kismet’s team before I could get back to the site. They already had orders to Neutralize me for murdering my teammates. Less than ten minutes after they died, I was wanted.”

“So someone set you up,” Rufus said.

It was exactly what Wyatt had said a week ago. Someone on the inside knew how to get us to that train bridge, and how to get nine other Triads to turn against me. To focus all of their energies on finding and Neutralizing me, instead of paying attention to the Dregs.

“Yeah, someone set me up.”

“It doesn’t make sense,” Rufus said, shaking his head.

“Of course it does,” Wyatt snapped. “It makes perfect sense. And it was also a terrific excuse to massacre the Owlkins, one of the largest Clans that sympathized with our species. We’ve been chasing our own asses for the last ten days, while the Bloods and goblins have been amassing power.”

I crouched, getting eye level with Rufus. He didn’t look away. “Rufus, I need your help,” I said. “I don’t have all of my memories back. I don’t remember the final three days of my—Evangeline’s—life, or anything that happened while I was captured. We need to piece this together, and we can’t do it alone. We’ve only got two days to prove that Wyatt isn’t nuts, that I’m not a traitor, and that there is some sort of plot against humanity brewing in the Dreg world.”