Victoria Scott - The Liberator

“I hate surprises,” I say.

“Even surprises that could kick your ass all over a court?” someone says from behind me.

I grin against Charlie’s mouth, then turn and see Annabelle standing nearby. Her short black hair and straight-as-Hugh-Hefner bangs make her look like that chick from Pulp Fiction . But her body is far from Uma Thurman’s. No, Annabelle’s built like a brick house…if a brick house married an Amazonian warrior. “I see you broke out,” I say.

“Nah, I burned the whole damn place to the ground.” Annabelle holds her fist into the air like she just led several thousand prisoners out of Alcatraz. Then she pulls me into a hug that nearly severs my spine.

“What were you in for again?” I ask when she releases me.

“First degree meets B and E, holmes,” she answers in her best street voice.

Charlie laughs. “Yeah, that or sneaking out to meet Bobby.”

I raise my eyebrows at Annabelle. She bites down on her bottom lip and sways side to side like a schoolgirl. “Very naughty, Annabelle,” I say. “I do approve.”

Annabelle places a hand on her hip. “What can I say? I’m a desirable woman,” she purrs. “Anyway, came to see you off. Char tells me you’re going to save a damsel in distress, but you’ll be back in a few days.”

“That’s the story.”

“Then I’ll leave you two to suck face.” Annabelle waves over her shoulder.

Watching her go, my shoulders tense. Because I know what comes next: the part where I tell Charlie good-bye. I’m trying to think of the right thing to say when Charlie lays her hand on my arm and looks at me with the most perfect smile. “Want to see something?”

I nod, but I can’t get over how happy she seems. It’s like my leaving doesn’t even bother her. I hear a man calling something else over the speakers as Charlie reaches down the front of her shirt and pulls out the ivory horn. It’s attached to an old-looking silver chain.

“My grandma gave me this chain when I showed her the charm.” Charlie grips the horn in her palm. “She was the one who found the small hole at the top.”

Narrowing my eyes, I pull my own horn out of my pocket and look it over. Sure enough, there’s a tiny hole drilled into mine as well. “Cool,” I say.

Charlie’s smile falters. “I’m going to miss you.”

“Are you?” I ask, my voice raspier than I intended.

Her face falls. “Of course I am,” she says. “Why would you ask me that?”

I shrug. “You seem pretty cheerful about this assignment.”

Charlie’s face brightens again, her blue eyes shining. “That’s because I know you’re going to do great.” She tilts her head, grinning. “Because I know you’re a good person, and you can do good.”

Something in me snaps. I know it’s probably the fear that she won’t be truly safe while I’m gone, but it’s also that I’m afraid what she’s saying isn’t true. “Maybe I don’t want to be good, Charlie. Maybe I want to be me.” I lean down and get in her face, beat my chest with a closed fist. “Maybe I’m bad to my core. And maybe I wish you were a little more like me.”

She’s going to flip me off. I just know it. I’ve screwed up this good-bye, and now she’s going to tell me to jump out of the plane at thirty thousand feet. But instead she sucks in a breath like I’ve gut-punched her, and her eyes fall to the floor.

“Charlie . . .”

“You and I are going to be fine,” she says in a voice so calm it almost scares me. Her eyes flick up. “You hear me? You don’t want to leave because you’re afraid to be away from me. Of how you’ll be when I’m not around to influence your behavior.”

My brain nearly splits open, because she’s right. I’ve been rebelling against becoming a liberator, and the only thing that’s kept me from becoming the Dante Walker I was when I was alive is her. I’m afraid I can’t be a good person.

Charlie puts a hand on my chest. “I care about you. I’ll care about you wherever you are in this world.” She smiles. “And Denver isn’t so far away.”

I pull her against me and hold her tight. I have an assignment to complete. And what’s more, I have to learn how to be a liberator. I’ve been putting off my transition from demon to…whatever…for too long. But I guess now is as good a time as ever.

When I’m starting to feel a little better, I raise my head to look at Charlie. But when I do, I spot Valery on her cell. The action alone isn’t what grabbed my attention; it’s the look on her face. There’s a deep line between her eyes, and her lips are pulled tight. It seems like whoever is on the other end is telling her something huge. Dodging the huge crowd rushing by, she takes a few steps in our direction.

I lean forward as much as I can without alarming Charlie.

“…the twin scrolls,” Red says into the phone. “Yes, I understand she’s important. …leaving now. And once he’s there, Charlie will be safe. Right.” She nods and glances over at us.

I look down at Charlie. “Did you hear what I said?” she asks.

I cup her cheeks in my hands and nod. I don’t want her to think I’m ignoring her, but I need to hear what else Valery is saying. Red may have said that she trusts me, but I’m not sure the feeling is mutual.

“Why can’t anyone read them?” Valery says, and I rejoice at having caught a full sentence. “…matter now. Yes, I’ll meet you at the Hive.” She pulls the phone away from her ear and pockets it. I try to keep a poker face when I look back at Charlie.

She must realize I’m distracted, but she doesn’t show it. In fact, Charlie looks a bit distracted herself, like she’s lost in thought. I contemplate asking Valery what that was all about, but the knot in my chest tells me whatever she was discussing is important, and if she were going to divulge anything, she would have already, which means I need to keep the fact that I overheard her conversation a secret.

Valery has pushed me to take this assignment, not that I really had a choice. And now I suspect that it may be for more than liberating this girl, Aspen. Maybe my going will keep Charlie safe, and not just because it separates me—who the collectors may come after—from Charlie, but because of something bigger. I’m not sure what that thing could be, but I’ll find out. In the meantime, I’m going with my gut. And my gut says to get the hell out of Alabama.

Wrapping Charlie in my arms once more, I touch my forehead to hers. And then I press our lips together. A rush of energy and longing fires through my body as our mouths connect. My hands crawl up her back, and I pull her closer. In return, she wraps her arms around my neck and stretches up on her toes. I barely touch my tongue to hers, and a clap of thunder sounds in my chest. We’re in public, people brushing past us every few seconds. But each time I hold her like this, kiss her like this, there is nothing else. “I’ll miss you, angel,” I whisper. Then I release her and walk away while I still can.

From over my shoulder, I hear Charlie mumble, “I’ll miss you, too.”

But her words sound strained, like she’s lost in her own head.

An hour into the flight, I still can’t stop thinking about Valery’s conversation. Who was she saying was important? Aspen? What are the twin scrolls? And what the H is the Hive?

These thoughts swirl in an unproductive circle in my head. But before I decide to let them go, I vow to ask Max to do a little snooping for me. It’s a risky decision, because he might go running to Valery. But I’m betting on “bros before hos” and all that.