SIXTEEN
IT ALL HAPPENED SO fast, but it felt like forever. Set to an old movie in my head, memories dredged up from the well of time: She pressed a blue teddy bear to my chest and tucked a frayed blanket around me. She sang a song too raspy to make me sleep. She let tears fall down her face in the dark, and they landed hot on my cheeks and made me think it was raining.
I moved with instinct, all impulse and no thought, throwing myself in front of her. The Mazikin inside her watched with wide amber eyes, mouth open, hands flying up to shield herself. The bolt went through me like I was made of nothing, puncturing me like a balloon of skin. The ground caught me. In my sideways world, I watched her sprint away on two legs, and then pitch forward and dive into a four-legged gallop that carried her up a hill and out of sight.
I closed my eyes, drowning in the acid pain, inhaling sick lungfuls of it.
“Captain! Goddammit,” Henry blurted as he reached me. “Goddammit.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, my voice high and small. I sounded like a child.
“I had that Mazikin dead to rights. And now you’re—” He let out a long string of curses.
“Are there any alive? Any we can take?” I let out a shivery breath, feeling sleepy and stupid. Half of me was on fire, but the other half was encased in ice.
“Are you crazy?” he shouted. “Forget taking a prisoner, Captain. I have to get you out of here before the police arrive!”
A siren split the night, jerking me into action. “Then get your bolts, Henry. And my knife—by the tree. Don’t leave a single one. Finish any Mazikin that are wounded, but make sure by the smell before you cut. Go.”
Henry disappeared from my side for what seemed like forever, leaving me in a sea of shock, surrounded by destruction. Then he was back. He leaned over me and folded my broken left arm over my stomach, wrenching a groan from between my clenched teeth. The crossbow bolt stuck out of my chest below my left shoulder. “Can you pull it out?” I gasped. I was certain all the pain would end if he pulled the arrow out. “Get it out. Please.”
He didn’t answer, just threw a blanket over me and scooped me from the ground, surprisingly strong for such a thin man. He clutched me close to his chest as he carried me away from the camp. In the distance the sirens wailed closer. Henry began to run, making me certain I was going to die with every step.
A million years later, a car door opened, and I was laid across the backseat of our Taurus, which smelled of animal crackers and juice. “Lean forward and keep still,” commanded Henry, flipping me onto my side. “I’m strapping you down.”
“Excellent,” I mumbled as he coiled the seat belts around my body. “Call Malachi and—”
“Already have, Captain,” he replied, making me wonder at what point along the way I’d blacked out, and leaving me hoping that I could do it again. Like, right now …
Strong, warm hands lifted me, and somehow, it didn’t hurt, even though I was still at sea with no boat. “We have to remove the bolt,” said Raphael. “I’m assuming you’d like to sleep through that part.”
“Right you are,” I answered, finding myself on my side again, this time on a bed. I turned my head and inhaled hopefully.
No. Not Malachi’s bed. “Where is he?” I whispered before I could stop myself.
Raphael ran his blazing hands over my neck. “He is aware that you are injured and requested to be pulled from the field. Henry is leaving shortly to retrieve him.”
“No. Tell Henry to call him. He and Jim should finish their patrol.” I wanted him so badly, but if he was my Lieutenant and nothing else, that meant he shouldn’t come running when I was injured. So I wouldn’t ask him to.
Raphael gave me a questioning look, but nodded.
“I really messed up. Henry doesn’t feel bad, does he?”
Raphael unbuckled my leather holster and slid it off my arm, pausing every few moments to allow me to catch my breath. “He is unhappy you got in the way of his bolt. He is happy it didn’t kill you.”
“Me too.”
“He still wants to know why. He said it looked like you were protecting a Mazikin.”
Her face flashed in my mind. Her eyes. My eyes. Lela, she said. Ven conmigo.
I sighed, exhaling shards of pain that cut me to ribbons from the inside out. My mom, I tried to say, but nothing came out. Mom mommommommom.
It capsized me. Thirteen years of buried longing crashed over my body, crushing me. All those years, all those wishes, those fantasies that she’d come get me, that she would rescue me. Only to find out that she was trapped in oblivion, a place I couldn’t find on any map.
And now she was trapped somewhere else, just as unreachable.
Raphael bent over me, and from him flowed a golden sheet of light, radiating outward, spreading around us. Wings. Arching over me, shielding me while I cried and cried and cried, tossed by the waves in my mind. Within our shimmering shelter, he bowed his head and put his hand on my forehead.
“I’m sorry,” I gasped. “I can’t stop.”
“Take as long as you need,” he murmured. “I’ll wait for you.”
He sat motionless, eyes closed, anchoring me to now so that my memories couldn’t trap me then. His golden wings covered us, glittering diamond-bright, so beautiful it hurt, until I cried myself dry. And when my last sob fell silent, the glow around us retreated, rolling back into his body and fading away. He opened his eyes and looked into mine. “I’m going to let you sleep now, because I have to heal your body.”
I nodded, and he lifted the world from my shoulders.
My body was like a stranger’s. A warrior’s. Strong but scarred. My wet hair dripped rivers down my back as I let the towel fall to the ground and stared into the mirror. A starburst pink-silver scar marked my chest, hovering below my collarbone. My stomach was lined with Sil’s claw marks, silver-white. My dead best friend’s face was etched onto my forearm.
The marks of battle.
My skin was knitted together, smooth and decorated with scars that proved I’d fought back. And survived, unbroken. My mind was a different story. It was an open, tender wound, raw and throbbing, clamoring with the battle of now and then. I lifted my chin and glared into my own eyes, seeing nothing but her face. “The next time I see you,” I whispered, “I’m going to kill you. I won’t hesitate.”
I turned away and finished getting ready for school. I’d awakened a few hours ago from Raphael’s special brand of dreamless sleep, healed and well rested, at least on the outside. The Guard house was dark and silent. Malachi, Jim, and Henry were still in the field, and I slipped away in the night, too ashamed to see them.
Some Captain I was. They were better off without me.
Which is why I was so surprised when I found them parked outside Diane’s house as I left for school. Jim hopped out of the passenger seat. Malachi sat in the back. His eyes slid over me for an electric second, but his gaze didn’t reach my face before he turned away. Henry kept his eyes trained on the street in front of him.
“Captain,” Jim said as he joined me on Diane’s front steps. His hair was combed, and he’d shaved. He looked like the all-American poster boy. His blue eyes skimmed up and down my body. Not in a checking-me-out way, though. More in an I-heard-you-were-mortally-wounded way. When he was finished with his assessment, he squared his shoulders. “I wanted to ask you something. Can I …” He looked down at himself, and that was when I noticed he had a backpack slung over his shoulder. “Can I go to school with you?”
“Sure,” I said, watching Henry pull away from the curb, carrying Malachi away from me. “It’s a good idea, since the Mazikin may be after some of our classmates. What kind of school were you in before you … you know.” Before you died.
He frowned. “I’ve never been to a school.”
“How come?” He’d never talked about the life he led before he became a Guard. Neither had Henry, actually, and I hadn’t wanted to pry. But if he was going to join me at school, I needed to know he wasn’t going to cause more trouble than he was worth. “Were you raised in a time when there weren’t schools or something?”
“No, I was raised in a place where there aren’t schools.”
“And where’s that?”
He looked squarely at me. “I grew up in the Countryside.”
My mouth dropped open. “Huh?”
Jim clutched the strap of his backpack. “What do you think happens to those who die in childhood? Or as babies?”
“I never really thought about it,” I said quietly. “You died … young, then?”
“I was pretty much born dead,” he replied in a hollow voice. “I was alive for a few minutes, long enough to get a name, but that was it. And then I was raised in the Countryside with a bunch of other kids like me. They turn us loose when we reach maturity, and we stay … like this. Forever.” He gestured at his body and then raised his head. “I can read. I bet I can keep up.”
“Okay,” I murmured, pushing back all the billions of questions I had about what he’d just told me. “We’d better go or we’ll be late.”
“The incident at the homeless camp is big news this morning,” he explained as I backed out of the drive. “Only one survivor was found. A woman.”
“How old?” I asked. Had Harriet made it out all right? Was it the waitress? Or maybe that woman who’d traveled with her boyfriend from Maine? Or a Mazikin?
“They didn’t say. She’s in critical condition, and the news said the police are hoping to question her about what happened today, since she’s the only surviving witness.”
“How many dead?” My heart hammered. My brain tumbled with calculations.
“Four. Henry said he got two with his crossbow. Not counting you, of course.”
I stopped at a traffic light and sucked a quick breath through my nose, absorbing the impact of Jim’s little dig. “I killed two, I think.”
“That’s what he said. So no humans killed.”
My hands tightened over the steering wheel. “Maybe. We don’t know how many Mazikin were in that raiding party, and we don’t know if they were able to drag any of the campers away.”
“Which is what Malachi said.”
I turned into the school parking lot. “And what else did he say?”
Jim gave me a sidelong glance. “Not much.”
I pulled the keys from the ignition. My eyes drifted to the front of the school, where a huge pile of flowers, candles, and pictures marked the spot where Aden Matthews had been sacrificed in our private war. Ian and Greg trudged by it on their way in. Greg was talking a mile a minute while Ian’s bloodshot eyes slid over the makeshift memorial. He looked like he’d been up all night, and I felt awful for him. I sighed. “Did you and Malachi find anything on patrol last night?”
Jim shifted in his seat. “Sort of. All of the shelters were full and wouldn’t let us in. But at the one on Willard, we smelled them.” He shrugged. “Actually, the Lieutenant smelled them.”
“And?”
“He told me to cover the front door, climbed up a fire escape, and broke in through a second-floor window.”
At least he hadn’t gone crashing through the lobby, knives out.
“He didn’t find anything, though,” Jim added. “We think the Mazikin were creeping around outside at some point last night, maybe looking for recruits.”
I nodded. “They’re building their numbers by possessing people no one will miss. No one’s going to raise the alarm until their numbers are so huge that it’s too late to stop them.”
“Your classmate was different, though. He was missed.”
I closed my eyes. “Yeah. He was a victim of opportunity. They grabbed him because he was chasing them, trying to expose them. And he turned out to be much more valuable than they anticipated, I’m sure.”
Jim’s eyes followed Tegan as she and Laney walked up to Aden’s memorial, carrying a huge bouquet of flowers and a set of pom-poms. “They could try to do it again.”
“They will. They’ll be cautious because I’m sure they don’t want to be caught any more than we do, but we have to keep an eye on everybody just in case. Do you have a cover story for being here?”
“Raphael got me some papers. He said I could use them if you gave me the okay. I’m a transfer from Bishop MacDonald Prep.” His cheeks turned pink. “I was suspended for fighting and drinking on school grounds.”
I chuckled. “Sometimes I think Raphael actually does have a sense of humor. No offense.”
He rewarded me with a sheepish smile. “None taken.” He pointed at Tegan. “Um … who’s that? Did she know Aden?”
“Yeah, they dated for a while.” I glanced at him and caught the look of interest on his face. “Hey. Don’t get distracted, okay? Keep your focus on your job.”
The eager glint in his eye dimmed but didn’t quite die. “Yes, Captain.”
I pushed my door open and raised my head to see Malachi staring at me from the front of the school, his face a blank mask. I tore my eyes from him and muttered, “None of us can afford to be distracted right now.”