Lili St Crow - Defiance

Who crouched next to the bed, staring at me inside the mirror with orange-flecked eyes, like he could hear me.

Chop.

Christophe knelt motionless at the head of the stairs, staring unblinking down a filthy, dusty hall. Beside him, Benjamin also crouched, his mouth moving. Explaining something. But instead, I looked at Christophe’s hands. They hung, flexing and releasing, like he was wishing he had someone’s neck in them. And I began to feel . . . odd. Not afraid, but like I was missing something.

Chop. More maybe-was and will-be, pouring into my head like they intended to stretch out my skull. Gran’s face, wise and wrinkled; Dad spinning in a field of daisies while I shrieked with laughter, his big capable hands under my arms and the entire world rotating around us; Graves lighting a cigarette; Benjamin slumping against an alley wall and slowly going white as blood slid out of the hole in his shoulder; Augustine’s face a rictus of horror as he screamed, his arms stretched out; my mother’s face brighter than the sun, laughing as she tickled me . . .

One last image, slowing down and cramming its way into my overloaded head. It hurt , shoving its way past a confused jumble of memories and physical misery. My heart labored under the strain, climbing uphill in steady beats.

The long concrete hall stretched away into infinity. I saw him, walking in his particular way, each boot landing softly as he edged along, and the scream caught in my throat. Because it was my father, and he was heading for that door covered in chipped paint under the glare of the fluorescents, and he was going to die. I knew this and I couldn’t warn him, static fuzzing through the image and my teeth tingling as my jaw changed, crackling—

—and Christophe grabbed my father’s shoulder and dragged him back, away from the slowly opening door. The sound went through me, a hollow boom as the door hit the wall and concrete dust puffed out.

BANG.

“Bang,” someone whispered, and hot breath touched my cheek.

I shot straight up, clawing at the air and screaming. Ash went over backward in a flurry of pale limbs. Nat, dozing on the chair she’d pulled up, shrieked and jumped to her feet. The bathroom door flew open and Dibs leapt out, wild-eyed, his little black medibag in one hand and his narrow chest furred with wiry golden hair. He was stark naked, and most of him was wringing–wet. Lather stood up in his hair, and I heard the shower running as I gasped, trying to make my lungs work. The room looked strange, every angle askew and the light somehow wrong .

I choked on glassy air. Nathalie leaned over and whomped me on the back. The blow stung, but somehow, it worked. I sucked in sweet air, blinking as the touch turned around and settled inside my skull, nestling like a feathersoft bird.

A really big bird.

“Jesus,” I husked. “What the . . .” The light was all weird, and after a moment I realized why. It was dusk-gold, not the glare of noon, lying over the room like honey, which meant I’d been out for a while.

Leon looked up from the window seat. “They’ll return soon. We need a plan.”

Nat rolled her eyes. “Oh, yeah, sure. A plan. How exactly is a plan going to help this situation? Get back in the shower, Dibs.”

I blushed scarlet. So did Dibs. He also squeaked and ducked back into the bathroom, banging the door shut. Nat let out a sigh my Granmama might’ve envied.

Wow. Now I knew a lot more than I ever wanted to about him.

I scrubbed at my forehead weakly. “Jesus.” I couldn’t come up with anything better to say. “What’s going on?”

“You need food. It’s not hot, but the calories will do you good.” Nat stretched, turning the movement into a graceful, coordinated rise from her chair.

Somehow she’d gotten Ash into a pair of slightly–too–big khakis and a sleeveless denim button-down. Muscle moved under white skin as he peeked up over the edge of the bed at me. Orange sparks drifted through his dark irises, the pupil flaring and shrinking as he examined me. “Bang,” he said sagely, and nodded. Greasy strings of dark hair fell in his face.

“Milady.” Leon slid off the window seat. “Dru. I bring tidings, if you can stay awake long enough to hear them.”

My mouth tasted like old dried-up copper and I hurt all over. The pain settled in deep, not like a bruise or a burn but instead as if the center of my bones had been stripped out and filled up with a grinding low-level ache. I rubbed at my grainy eyes. I’d lost pretty much a whole day, and wouldn’t you know, I felt like I could just lie down and sleep for another two.

“Here.” Nat came back from the door, carrying a plate one-handed. “Not a word until she eats something.”

“This is important, Skyrunner.” But Leon subsided when she shot him a look that could have broken a window. A flare of yellow went through her irises, and I actually found myself really, really glad Nat was on my side.

I reached for diplomacy. “I think I can eat and listen at the same time.” My stomach actually rumbled, and when she gave me the plate, I saw a pile of ham sandwiches on wheat toast. The lettuce and tomato looked a bit soggy, but my stomach spoke up again and I grabbed the first half-sandwich on top. “What the hell, Leon?”

“You gave me a commission .” His chin jutted.

“Sure I did.” I glanced at Nathalie. “Thanks.” Back at him. He was looking like a sulky third-grader. Jeez. “Spit it out.”

That was the exact moment what he was saying caught up with me. He was telling me he’d found something out.

About Graves.

Leon spread his hands a little, a curious little helpless motion.

I took a huge bite of sandwich, chewed, and my stomach started singing hosannas. It was work not to talk with my mouth full. “Oh, you mean . . . Well, whatever you’ve got, Nat can hear it. She’s my friend.”

For some reason, that made Nat stand a little straighter. She folded her arms, and her earrings—purple metal hoops with little silver rings hanging at the bottom—swung a little.

“Are you sure?” He held up both hands when I glared at him, too. “I’m not impugning your duenna, Milady. There are some things it’s safer for a wulfen not to hear.”

“Oh, dear me.” Nathalie sank back down in the chair and examined her Uggs. The sarcasm could’ve started dripping off her and staining the floor. “Is it conspiracy, treachery, murder, or open warfare? I’ll have to choose my lipstick accordingly.”

Ash still peeked up over the edge of the bed at me, and I grabbed another sandwich half and held it out to him. He studied it, studied me, then grabbed it so fast his hand blurred. He disappeared, hunching down next to the bed.

Leon’s face twisted itself up slightly. “I don’t know what to call it at this point.” He folded his arms, shook his lank, fine hair down. “Except unsavory .”

“Excuse me? I’m sitting right here.” I tore off another huge bite of sandwich. Have you ever been so hungry even cardboard would be oh-my-God fantastic ? That’s how it was.

“I’m not quite sure how you’ll react, either.” He stared at a spot about two feet above my head. “It concerns Reynard.”

I swallowed a huge load of toast, cheddar cheese, ham, and tomato. It tasted like manna, or like Gran’s cooking. All it needed was some fresh milk. “What about him?” The food hit my stomach with a thump I was surprised wasn’t audible. Then I started to get a very bad feeling. “Wait. What does this have to do with—”

He dug under his jacket, and Nat tensed perceptibly. Leon glanced at her, making another odd little face like he was amused, then pulled out a sleek silver thing. “I decided to start at the beginning, with the moment your loup-garou disappeared. There must have been a security feed for that sector, I thought. So I went looking for it. Found out the raw footage had been yanked, but there are always backups. I called in a favor and had a friend of mine go digging until he found a ghost-shell image of the time in question. He brought it out and reconstructed it—but in the middle of the reconstruction he got transferred to Oklahoma. I’m not at all sure those two events aren’t related, but that’s beside the point.” Leon opened up the silver rectangle. It was a screen on top and a touch pad on the bottom, a cute little thing. He pressed a button on the side, showed me what had to be the world’s smallest DVD on a little tray sliding into the bottom half. “So I took it to another friend, this time outside the Schola, and called in another favor. He finished, and I went on my merry way. Take a look.”