How to Lead a Life of Crime

chapter TWENTY-THREE



THE WITCH





The first time I visited Joi’s colony, I almost swore I’d never go back. It was six days after our encounter at the Russian Baths. I knew where she lived. I’d spent several evenings camped out across the road, waiting for a glimpse of her. Every night, she’d arrive on Pitt Street with a shopping bag in each hand. The building she entered was lousy with kids. The younger ones were always outside, decorating the sidewalk with chalk drawings or taking turns on a wobbly scooter. A dozen teenagers came and went every hour. I just assumed procreation was the sport of choice on the Lower East Side. I had no idea that the children belonged to Joi.

I tried to convince myself that it was enough to watch her from a distance. But it wasn’t. On the sixth night, I saw Joi turn the corner in front of Our Lady of Sorrows, and my body began to move of its own volition. I’d been avoiding her since the baths, and I fully expected some form of punishment.

Joi grinned and handed me one of her shopping bags. I wasn’t prepared for it to weigh twenty pounds. I peeked inside and discovered it was loaded with soup cans.

“I guess you really love chicken noodle soup,” I said.

“It’s a crowd-pleaser,” she replied.

“You’re planning to feed a crowd?”

“Yep. Want to meet them?”

I didn’t want to meet anyone. But I was caught in a cloud of jasmine and cocoa butter, and I couldn’t muster the will to escape.

A kid opened the gates for us, and Joi thanked him by name. When she started downstairs, I hesitated. My every instinct told me not to follow her. But I did. Along the winding hall that led through the basement. Past the little chambers that appeared to be bedrooms. Into the old laundry room with its rusting machines and ratty old furniture. The entire place was infested with children, and they emerged from every crack and crevice to greet Joi.

I didn’t ask who the kids were. It was obvious they were castoffs and rejects. Runaways and orphans. I could barely stand to look at them. I wanted to sprint right back up the stairs.

“Make yourself at home,” said Joi.

“Joi?” A blond girl with heavily lined eyes tapped her on the shoulder, then pointed to one corner of the room. A boy with a mop of curly red hair was standing there, trying his best to blend in with the wall. I thought he might be twelve or so, but he was so painfully thin that it was impossible to tell.

“What’s his name?” Joi asked.

“He won’t say,” the girl told her. “I found him hiding in the ladies’ room at the Seward Park Library.”

Joi walked over to the boy. “Can I call you Curly?” she asked.

He stared at her for a full thirty seconds before he finally nodded.

“Would you like some soup?”

I can’t repeat the story Curly told Joi while I listened in. Even now—after everything I’ve seen. That night, I only heard half of it before I politely requested a name and an address. Then I was up the stairs and out the door. I broke into a SoHo loft and waited an hour for its owner to come home. Then I beat the man so badly that I wasn’t sure if he’d live. I didn’t know what else I could do. It wasn’t rage that made me want to destroy him. I didn’t do it to keep him from hurting another boy. I did it because he’d shown me that the world was even uglier than I ever imagined it could be. I thought I was angry. But I wasn’t. I was absolutely terrified.

I wandered around for hours before finally returning to Pitt Street. One of the urchins led me downstairs. Curly was snuggled up in a sleeping bag on the couch in the laundry room. Joi rose from a chair when she saw the blood on my shirt.

“You found him, then.” It was nothing but a simple statement of fact.

I wanted her to be pleased, and she probably was. The guy deserved everything he got, but beating him wasn’t proof of my bravery. The bravest thing I did that night was go back to Joi’s basement.

• • •

Last night in my dreams, I returned to that SoHo loft. But this time, the man I attacked was Lucian Mandel. I broke every bone in his body. I pummeled his face until it was a shapeless lump of meat. And yet through it all, he never stopped smiling. I woke up this morning with my fists still clenched. I stood at the door until it unlocked, and then I set out in search of him. If I’d found him, I would have killed him. For taking Joi away from Curly and leaving the rest of the Lost Boys alone. Because I remember what it feels like to lose the one person who always promised she’d be there. And for a few minutes this morning, that memory almost drove me mad.

A long, cold shower restored a bit of my sanity. But it will be best for everyone if Mandel stays away from me for a while. I’m not sure I could trust myself in his presence. When I see Joi join the breakfast line on the far side of the cafeteria, the urge to kill him returns. I have to remind myself that if Mandel dies, Joi might too. And nothing can ever happen to her. Until she’s safe, I have a single mission.

Joi’s hair has been woven into a braid, and her simple white shirt is tucked into a black pleated skirt. She’s dressed like a schoolgirl, which makes me wonder if she even knows where she is. She’s smart enough to have figured it out by now. But I see no sign of fear on her face. I’m still studying her when she spots me. And promptly looks away. The gesture says everything. I can think of a million reasons why Joi wouldn’t want to speak to me. Who knows what she’s heard—or what Mandel has told her.

I slip behind Joi at the breakfast line and slink into whispering range. She’s ladling oatmeal into a bowl when she hears me say her name. Joi dumps the contents of her bowl back into the pot and marches off—leaving her tray behind.

“Looks like June’s not into cripples.”

I step out of the food line and give Gwendolyn a patronizing pat on the head.

“Keep nipping at me, Fang, and I’m going to bite back,” I warn her with a smile. “Now scram.”

“Is that any way to treat someone who’s just brought you a present?” Gwendolyn hands me a course schedule. “It’s from Mr. Mandel. You were still in a coma during registration, so he chose your classes for you.”

“He’s here today?” I growl. “You saw him?”

“Sure. He stopped by your room first thing this morning, but you weren’t around. So he came up to my dorm thinking you might be there.”

It’s a lie. Mandel could have found me if he’d wanted to. I doubt he’s forgotten that there’s a chip in my head.

“So!” Gwendolyn chirps, flicking the sheet of paper that’s still clenched in my hand. “Think you’ve got any classes with your old girlfriend this semester?”

Mandel told her who “June” really is. I knew he eventually would. But it’s best if I keep playing dumb. “Don’t flatter yourself, Gwendolyn. You were never my girlfriend. Just a blow-up doll with a pulse.”

I enjoy watching the smirk slip off her face, and then I skim through my schedule.



Introduction to Industrial Espionage

Waste Management:

Polluting for Profit



Hidden Treasures:

Finding and Controlling the World’s Natural Resources



Brazilian Jujitsu

Let Them Eat Cake:

Exploiting America’s Obesity Epidemic



The Ultimate Insiders:

Mandel Alumni and the SEC



I fold the list and cram it into my back pocket. The movement sends pain shooting through my shoulder and down my arm. I guess I can count on failing jujitsu. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” I ask Gwendolyn. “Hasn’t Mandel given you another assignment yet?”

“Nothing has changed, Flick. You’re still my project, and Mr. Mandel told me to give you a message. He thinks you should keep your distance from Mr. Martin for a while. You got his son kicked out of school.”

My whole body hurts when I laugh.

“Oh yeah,” Gwendolyn continues, and I notice her smirk has returned. “You might not want to skip lunch today. Caleb’s planning to announce the pageant results.”

• • •

My first two classes are now little more than a blur. I’m sitting in Hidden Treasures, and Joi just waltzed through the door with her chipmunk savior. There’s an empty seat next to me—and another in the very last row. Joi never even glances in my direction. She heads to the back while the chipmunk fills the place beside me.

“Hello, Flick,” the girl says as if she’s known me for years. Even high-ranking Androids wait for the Dux to speak first. And this kid is a Ghost. A few days at the academy, and she’ll start fading away.

“Hi,” I respond, hoping the conversation will end there.

“I’m Violet,” she says.

“Yes, I know,” I tell her. I know more than her name. I already know everything about her. Joi must have adopted another urchin during her stay in the Incubation Suites. All I had to do was look at Violet’s hope-filled eyes and guile-free grin to realize that she’s not going to make it here. And I suddenly see the problem with Jude’s brilliant advice. Be who you want to be, he said. Well, the person I’d like to be would save Violet. But that would be dangerous. I could die trying—and there’s only one of me to sacrifice.

Maybe my brother the elf thinks all lives are equally valuable. But they’re not. My life wasn’t worth his. The world got a raw deal when Jude died trying to help me. If I did the same thing for Violet, how long would she last? No more than a month at the academy. Maybe a year if she made it back to the outside. But Joi might stand a chance if she’s able to escape. And her life is worth ten of mine. Which is why I always tried so hard to keep her at a distance. I didn’t want another person I loved sacrificing herself for my sake. And Joi’s just the sort who would do it. She’d take a bullet for anyone. Even for someone as doomed as Violet.

Violet gasps when our instructor arrives. I recognize her as well. The woman used to be a talking head on one of the business channels my father liked to watch. A dark beauty who unnerved me because she never seemed to blink. She walks up to the blackboard and writes Ms. Smith in letters about a foot high. I think she’s a bit worried that someone might slip up and use her real name.

“So . . . what will be the most valuable natural resource in the second quarter of the twenty-first century?” Ms. Smith asks the class.

An Android hand shoots up. “Oil.”

“Perhaps,” says Ms. Smith. “But I wouldn’t bet on it.”

“Rare earth metals?” another Android offers.

“Possibly. Though you’d have to fight the Chinese for them. Any other answers? Let’s hear from some of the new students. Violet?”

“Gold,” says the girl sitting next to me.

“Always good to have around. How about you, June. What do you think?”

“Clean, fresh water.” It’s the first time I’ve heard Joi’s voice in four months. It’s still smooth and low, with no hint of anxiety.

Ms. Smith nods. “I happen to agree with that answer. But why did you choose it?”

“Because you can live without oil or earth metals, but no one can live without water.”

“But water is free, isn’t it?” Ms. Smith probes, playing devil’s advocate. “What’s going to make it so valuable?”

“It’s free here,” Joi says. “For now. While there’s still enough to go around. But in other parts of the world, it’s already disappearing, and the little that’s left tends to be polluted. When people’s children start dying of cholera and typhoid, they’ll do just about anything for clean water. I’ve seen it happen. There are companies all over the world trying to buy up freshwater supplies. And if I had the money, I’d buy one of them. In a few years, I’d be charging top dollar for something everyone in this country has been taking for granted.”

“Excellent answer,” Ms. Smith says. “I know a few Mandel alumni who’d be more than happy to back such a venture.”

“Then tell them to give me a call.” Even though she ends with a laugh, Joi’s response sounds less like a joke than a dare.

I can’t resist spinning around for a look. Because there’s no way in hell that the girl I knew on the Lower East Side could have ever come up with an answer like that. But unless Joi has an evil twin, that is Pitt Street’s former saint twirling her braid and pretending that I don’t exist.

“Brilliant, isn’t she?” I turn back to find Violet watching me.

“Yes.” No point in denying it.

“She said you’d be surprised,” Violet adds with a giggle.

• • •

Ms. Smith’s collagen-plumped lips have been moving nonstop for almost an hour, but I haven’t heard a single word of her lecture. Until now, I assumed there was only one possible explanation for Joi’s bizarre appearance at the Mandel Academy. I thought she’d been brought here against her will. I figured she was meant to be Mandel’s final test—the one that would prove whether my mutant gene had been activated.

But now I realize that there may be another possibility. Maybe Joi got a scholarship because Mandel wants to make her one of his monsters. Maybe he’s not going to give me the choice to trade my life for hers. Maybe he’s found another way to force me to watch the girl I love be destroyed.

I don’t think Joi would let him turn her into a predator. But I’ve never been very good at predicting what other people might do. The last shock I suffered came damn close to killing me. I doubt I could take another. And Mandel probably knows it.

• • •

After class, I wait outside on the balcony for Joi. She’s chatting with Ms. Smith in an obvious attempt to avoid me. But it’s lunchtime, and I’ll spend the whole goddamned hour here if need be. Then I spot Caleb boarding one of the elevators, and I remember the pageant. I start hopping down the hall. I need to be in the cafeteria when the results are revealed.

“Ah, just in time,” Caleb drones when he sees me limping toward the Wolves’ table. “I was beginning to think you had something better to do.”

“I knew he didn’t.” Gwendolyn pats the stool beside her. “That’s why I saved him a spot.”

“Thanks, Fang,” I say. No one laughs.

The friction between us must have been obvious before, but our Beauty Pageant bets made it official. Caleb is observing us with his usual bored expression. But I know he’s too smart to miss the opportunity that’s unfolding in front of him. If Gwendolyn and I take each other out, Caleb stands to inherit our title—and the lifelong rewards that come with it.

“Before we get started, I have an announcement,” I tell the Wolves. “It’s a new semester, which means it’s time to let bygones be bygones. You’re all welcome back to the tower lounge. In fact, your presence there will be mandatory every evening from this point forward.”

If Joi won’t let me get close enough to protect her, I’ll just have to keep Mandel’s assassins locked up whenever I can.

“And do you concur?” Caleb asks my co-Dux.

“Whatever.” Gwendolyn’s eager to move on. “So who won the pageant?”

“Max,” Caleb announces. No surprise there.

“And who lost?”

Caleb takes a leisurely bite of his sandwich before he answers. “Violet.”

“What about June?” Gwendolyn demands.

“She came in third,” Caleb says. “Seems Flick’s vote canceled yours out.”

“Flick doesn’t really think she’ll win,” Gwendolyn sneers. I wonder if she’s angry enough to do something stupid. “He voted for her because she used to be his girlfriend.”

The Wolves all freeze as if the scene has been paused. Then Julian laughs.

“Is that right?” Caleb marvels. I can almost hear his mind whirring away.

That’s when we see Joi. She’s standing at the entrance to the cafeteria, surveying the room. Twelve Wolves stare back at her. I can only imagine what she must think of us. Joi takes her place in the lunch line and strikes up a conversation with one of the lowliest Androids.

“Friendly, ain’t she?” Austin drawls with a mouthful of hamburger.

Leila’s whole body vibrates when she snickers.

“Maybe she’s campaigning for class president,” Gwendolyn smirks. “I can’t believe anyone actually voted for that loser to win the pageant. Who else besides her boyfriend thinks June’s going to make it past ranking day?”

No one says a word.

“Did any of these morons vote for June?” Gwendolyn asks Caleb.

“Votes are confidential,” Caleb says.

“No, they’re not!”

“They are now,” Caleb replies. “I run the pageant. I make the rules.”

When Gwendolyn slaps him, he responds with a single, lizard-like blink and returns to eating his sandwich.

• • •

The Wolves’ Den is packed. Gwendolyn and I are stationed at opposite ends of a long couch. There’s an empty space between us, but no one dares occupy it. The bad vibes are so strong that they would probably prove fatal. Then Caleb arrives and plops himself right down.

“Well! Looks like the semester is off to an interesting start,” he announces to no one in particular. But suddenly everyone is listening.

“Skip the theatrics, Caleb,” Gwendolyn growls. “Just tell us what you want to say.”

“Flick’s girlfriend, June. Turns out, she’s a human resources major.”

“Ex-girlfriend,” I correct him.

“Yes, I’ve noticed you two aren’t on speaking terms. . . .”

“Get to the point, Caleb,” Gwendolyn butts in.

“The point is that Mr. Mandel has put June in some very advanced classes. In fact, she and I have three together. I was surprised when I kept seeing her. I thought maybe she was being set up to fail. You know how our headmaster likes to throw a patsy into every Incubation Group.”

No, Violet is the one who’s been brought here to feed the Wolves. Just like Aubrey. I would have thought that much was obvious.

“Well? What’s your take?” asks Gwendolyn.

“June’s remarkable,” Caleb says. “Quite possibly the finest human resources student aside from yours truly.”

There’s a bruise on Caleb’s cheek where Gwendolyn slapped him at lunch. And yet he’s determined to keep taunting her. Which means he’s settled on a plan of action. Gwendolyn kills Joi. Flick kills Gwendolyn. Mandel kills Flick. Caleb is king. Seems like a long shot, but I guess it could work.

“Perhaps Flick could tell us a bit about his old love?” Caleb inquires.

I just grin and give him a wink. “F— off.”

“I should have known you weren’t the sort to kiss and tell. Does anyone here have any classes with June?” Caleb asks, addressing the other Wolves.

“I watched her spar in kickboxing,” Austin offers reluctantly. “She’s not bad.”

“Not bad?” Caleb scoffs. “I hear she could have kicked the other girl’s ass.”

“But she didn’t, did she?” Gwendolyn’s on to him too. “I can see straight through you, Caleb. Which means I always know when you’re full of shit. Someone go get that Max kid who just came up from the Suites. I think it’s time for a second opinion.”

A few minutes later, one of the lesser Wolves arrives with Max in tow. The kid is a born predator, but he’s in the presence of superior beasts. He should be avoiding our eyes and kissing our asses. But the cocky little pup seems to think he could take on all twelve of us. Either we’re not very impressive, or he’s not very bright.

Gwendolyn picks up on the dolt’s lack of deference. “Do you know who I am?” she asks him.

“You’re the Dux,” Max says. Then he gestures toward me. “So’s that guy.”

“You know the word, but do you know what it means?” Gwendolyn demands.

“It means you think you’re in charge.”

I nearly roll off the sofa I’m laughing so hard. Gwendolyn lurches forward, teeth bared, but Caleb sticks out an arm and holds her back. He’s getting bolder by the minute.

“Before Gwendolyn eats you alive, we would like to know what you think of one of the students from your Incubation Group,” Caleb says calmly. “June.”

“I don’t mess with her.” That’s unexpected. I hear genuine respect in Max’s voice. “She’s a witch.”

“A witch?” I ask.

“She has special powers.” I thought he was joking, but I see no trace of a grin.

“Interesting.” Caleb sits back and crosses his legs. “And what form do these powers take?”

“Huh?”

“What sort of stuff does she do?” I interpret.

“You know that chick Flora?”

It takes me a moment to put a face to the name. Flora was in Joi’s Incubation Group. A tall blonde with a Barbie-doll figure.

Even Caleb is struggling to make the connection. “Flora? One of the new students? What does she have to do with any of this?”

“She’s hot, right?” Max responds as if we’re all certain to agree. “So I thought Flora could be my girl for a while. But every time I tried to make my move, something crazy always happened.”

“Like what?” Caleb asks.

“One time a bookcase fell on top of me. A couple days later, I was in the gym and one of those five-pound dumbbells slammed into the back of my head. Knocked me out cold for a few minutes. Stuff like that.”

“And you think June was responsible? Did you actually see her do those things?”

“No. Sometimes she wasn’t even in the room. But she told me she’d put a curse on me. She’s not from here, you know. She’s from someplace where the women are all trained to be witches.” Max looks directly at me. “He knows it’s true. He was watching when I fought June the other day. I almost killed her, right? Then my knee gave out all of a sudden and June got away.”

“Why do you suppose June kept attacking you?” Caleb asks. “Did it have something to do with Flora? Was she protecting the girl for some reason?”

“No. June just said I needed to learn my place,” Max says with a shrug. “She told me she owns this school and everyone in it.”

Someone in the lounge starts laughing. It builds from a giggle into a full-blown howl. We all turn to see Ella, clutching her stomach as if her guts might spill out.

“What’s so funny?” Caleb asks.

“Oh shit! ” she wheezes. “I’ve heard that one before!”

I know where she heard it. It’s almost exactly the same thing I told Ivan the first time I saved Aubrey.

While the Wolves watch Ella, I feel Gwendolyn’s eyes on me. She knows too.