Destiny: The Girl in the Box #9 (20 page)

“Believe me, I know,” she said. “You don’t accumulate the record of wildfire captures that I did without putting a few in the ground along the way.” She shuffled her feet again. “Along with a few innocents who were in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

I felt my face freeze in a cringe. “How do you even deal with that? I mean, Rick from Omega, that was one thing; he was threatening me, trying to lord his power over me, and I think Wolfe just pulled my trigger at an opportune moment.” I took in a sharp breath. “But a total innocent, caught in the crossfire?”

I didn’t even want to fathom that. I flashed back to a moment a year and a half ago when I was chasing Henderschott, the armored ass, through Eden Prairie Center and he’d cast a clothing rack at a stroller. I’d pulled the baby out of the way and saved him. I tried to imagine what would have happened if I’d been a little too slow.

“This is war,” my mother said. “It’s unfortunate, but it happens. I was after this one wildfire who had done this spree of bank-robbing. He had hostages.” She had a look that was as close to … haunted as I’d seen, save for the times she’d talked about Sovereign. “He’d already killed eighteen people by that point, was the focus of a three-state manhunt. He wanted to escape and he took hostages in hopes that we’d trade them to let him go. Killed one just to prove how serious he was.”

“But you came at him anyway,” I said, suspecting that I already knew the ending of this particular tale.

“He killed three before I got my hands on him.” She kept her head bowed. “It was a tough decision, but I asked myself if he would do more damage if we let him get away than if I just ended him right then.” She shrugged.

“That’s cold math,” I said. “Which I think is Scott’s objection. He sees the people that get hurt, sees the damage through empathetic eyes. He still feels it. His soul isn’t like mine, rubbed raw by all the terrible things I’ve done.” I blinked and looked up at her. “I feel…numb to it. Like if I stop, the people I care about will die. So to me, these Century flunkies aren’t even human.” I pursed my lips. “I’m probably looking at it wrong. Less feeling. More…calculating.”

“You have to be calculating,” she said and leaned over my desk. Her dark hair fell around her face, and she wore a look of seriousness now, all mournful reminiscence gone. “You can’t allow yourself the luxury of feeling it all now. The stakes are too high to go soft now. I know what other people would argue because I’ve heard it; your emotions, your better angels—that you should listen to them, mercy, peace, olive branch, all that crap.” She stared down at me. “Do you think there’s hope of mercy or peace from Sovereign and Weissman?”

“No,” I said. “There will never be any mercy from Weissman. And Sovereign is just letting him do what he has to do, so long as he doesn’t hurt me.”

I caught the flicker behind her eyes. “So if he did hurt you—”

I sighed. “Don’t even think it. You’d never pull it off, getting Sovereign to think Weissman had hurt me. He’s a mind-reader.”

“Yeah, I know,” she said, sighing. “But you can’t blame me; I’m just trying to show you how calculating you’ll have to be to win this. You can either live in reality or run from it. It’s your choice, but you can’t get bitchy when it catches up to you and beats you to a bloody pulp. If you’re going to win, you need to consider every option, every possibility, find every ally you can get your hands on. The stakes are too high and the odds are too long to leave any possibility unexamined, no matter how crazy or … unpleasant it might be to carry out.”

I pondered that for a moment. “There is one possibility I hadn’t considered. Not really that crazy, though it is a little unpleasant.”

“Oh?” My mother arched an eyebrow at me. “What’s that?”

“I think the time has come to meet one of my enemies face to face,” I said, “and see if I can wring any truth out of him.”

“Scott,” I said as I opened the door to my quarters. He was standing out in the hall in jeans and a t-shirt. I’d called for him a few minutes earlier and wondered if he’d even show.

“You had your message delivered by a runner,” he said, holding up the little slip of paper in his hand. “We live just down the hall from each other; you could have just dropped by yourself.” His cheeks were flushed, and I caught a whiff of alcohol.

Uh oh.

“I wanted you to be able to say no.” I shut the door behind him. He led the way into the living room that was a step down from the entry and kitchen and stood there, just looking at my glass window. It was night, and the campus was lit, spread before us. It wasn’t a terrible view, as far as things went, but it was no city skyline. “I didn’t want to put you in an uncomfortable position of having to answer me face to face if you wanted to pass on talking.”

“Ah,” he said, still staring at the glass wall.

“Yeah.” I stared at the back of his head. “Listen—”

“Let me just say it,” he said, turning around. “I see their faces, Sienna. Burned into my memory.” The mournful look, the quiver of his lip, they shut me right up. “When I shot at those mercs who invaded the dorms, it was unquestionably the right thing to do. Our metas were under attack, they killed some of our people …” He let his voice trail off for a moment. “When I took out those guys in the casino, that was pure, too. They came at me, they had ill intent, and when the dust settled, two of them were dead by my hand.

“But when I took a shotgun and kicked down the door of that safe house …” His face hardened and I watched him shudder. “I see the first one when I close my eyes. I watch the look of surprise run over her face as I blasted it off with buckshot.” His voice cracked. “I can see the red running in lines down the walls. And I didn’t have a choice at that point, I had to keep going on to the next one, and the next one …”

“I’m sorry,” I said, not sure what else to say.

“I don’t want to be the weak link,” Scott said, shaking his head. “I meant to stand by you to the end of this. I still mean to. What we’re doing here … stopping Century … it’s important work. But how we do it … feels like it should be more upright. More moral. This isn’t even a grey area; we’re deep in the black here.”

“Lives are at stake,” I said. “Do you not believe in the principle of self defense? Of being able to fight back when your life is on the line?”

“You know I do,” Scott said. “I’ve proven I do. But this is not exactly self-defense. This is preemptive murder.”

“They’re coming, Scott,” I said, urgently.

“I know!” He blurted it out, all fury. “I know they’re coming. It’s why I sent my parents to Canada, to get them out of the way! I know it’s going to be bad, but … I just … I can’t … I can’t do it, Sienna. It’s so …”

“It’s not easy to live with,” I said. “Your parents … they’re the last family you have left?”

“You know it,” he said, and I could see his face flush. “My aunt and uncle, the ones Wolfe killed? They were the only other immediate family we had. All the others were extended relations, like my … charming Aunt Judy. No one else we really knew.”

“I’m glad your family is safe,” I said, and took a step closer to him. “I just … I really need your help right now.” I put a hand on his shoulder, brushed my fingernails against his cheek. “I’ve … come to rely on you. Not just because you’re a strong meta, but … for other reasons.” I bowed my head. “I don’t want to lose you now.”

“I’m not leaving you,” Scott said, sighing. “I wouldn’t do that. But … please … don’t ask me to murder anyone. If they’re coming at us, I will kill every one of them that comes, just … don’t send me into a house with a shotgun and have me cut down unarmed people again. Please.”

I could hear the note of pleading in his voice, the begging sound of a man who’d been broken by what he’d seen. What he’d done.

What I’d made him do.

The whole war so far flashed in front of my eyes. All the killing, all the deaths, and that same ratio that expressed one thing—the odds overwhelmingly against us. The bishops and rooks being gradually pulled from my side.

“All right,” I said and watched the faintest light of hope stir in his eyes again. “We’ll find another way for you … keep you out of the worst of it.” He met my eyes at last, and I felt myself shudder at the concession I’d made, hoping it wouldn’t cost me the last edge I’d need … hoping it wouldn’t cost me the war. “I won’t make you kill anyone like that again.”

I was deep in the dreamwalk; the bridging, undefined space in my head that I used to contact people while I was sleeping. It was a dark, smoky realm based on a shared memory, the lines of the space wisping like smoke.

I was in a wide-open office space, standing right in the middle of it. The desks had been cleared out, and open floor stood between me and the other person in the dreamwalk. He was looking around in mild surprise, but only mild. I’d been hoping he’d be stunned to be here, but I hadn’t given him enough credit for being jaded.

“Is this London?” Weissman said, his greasy black hair ringing his face. “The Omega offices?”

“Well, we did meet there last time we crossed paths,” I said, staring at him across the room. There was no sound but that of our voices when they broke the unearthly silence. “Though I can change things up if you’d prefer.” I snapped my fingers and we stood in a sunlit atrium, a white glow emanating from every surface.

“The British Museum?” Weissman said, cocking his head to look around. “Quite the little talent you’ve got for settings. I take it this is a dreamwalk?”

“You don’t seem surprised.”

“Sovereign told me about it,” Weissman said, still looking around. A grin split his face, revealing yellowed teeth. “This is where I killed the Omega ministers. Good times. Any chance you can take me to some of my other greatest hits? Because there was this one time in a parking lot—”

“How’s your week going, Weissman?” I asked, preempting what I was sure was going to be a fascinating tale of grossness and murder. Why were the villains in my life so damned villainous? Why couldn’t I just face off with bullying toe-rags who wanted to embarrass you like a normal nineteen-year-old? Instead, I had the League of Evil trying to kill all the metahumans in the world to contend with.

“You threw a few kinks in it,” he said, smiling through an obvious grimace. “I gotta admit, I didn’t see you finding one of our active safe houses, let alone busting down the door gangster-style and laying waste to everyone inside. It was an embarrassing oversight on my part.”

“Yeah, I can see how losing thirteen of your hundred like that would fall into the ‘embarrassing’ category,” I said with all due sarcasm.

He reddened. “That wasn’t so smart. You made me look stupid in front of Sovereign.”

“I didn’t ‘make’ you look stupid,” I said. “You are stupid. I just gave you the opportunity to showcase it.”

“Ooh.” He let a little air pass through his lips as he narrowed his eyes, the mark of a suppressed fury. “Are you being snide and condescending?”

“And here I was, worried you were too stupid to pick up on it.”

He laughed, but it was a mirthless, mean-spirited guffaw. “I already have your people marked down for a hell of a violent death, did you know that? But I’m brainstorming more creative ways to make them suffer before they die every time you throw a wrench in my plans. I’m up to vivisection and acid baths, in case you’re wondering.”

“Well, gosh, I guess I should just surrender now and make their deaths easier and marginally less painful.”

He made a tsk-ing sound and smiled. “You’re trying to get my goat. Trying to make me say something … unwise.”

“I would never try to get your goat,” I said. “I’d hate to deprive you of your only outlet for sexual release.”

“Oh, wow.” He blanched in annoyance, “I’d forgotten how incredibly irritating you are. Did you just summon me here to dig a deeper grave for all those hangers-on you laughably call your friends? Or was it because you missed me?”

“I do miss how easy it is to make a mockery of you,” I said. “I’m afforded so very few truly witless targets to spin in circles with my derision. But I wouldn’t say I miss you—in fact, last time I’m pretty sure I hit you to the tune of a gaping stomach wound. Maybe soon I’ll have another opportunity to test my aim on you.” I took a step closer to him. “You can threaten me and my friends all you want. I know you want to kill them. I know you’re going to try and make it painful. And out there in the real world, you have lots of power backing you up.” I disappeared in a wisp of smoke and appeared again behind him. “But here … you’re in my world. Let me show you who has the power here.”

I clamped a hand on his face and he screamed. It was a wrenching, gut-level cry of agony. “I can manipulate the dream world, Weissman.” I brought him to his knees, screaming in anguish all the while. “I can find you anytime you go to sleep. I can torment you every night from here until I die.” I circled around him, looking in his dark eyes. “I can wrench every ounce of happiness out of your life and make it hell until the very end, and I suspect I’ll be living a lot longer than you will, however this turns out.”

“You … little … bitch …” His words were choked out, and he was on his knees. I shaped a thought and filled the air with the smell of urine.

“That’s just sad,” I said. Because I was shaping the world, it was real to him. For all I knew, it was reflecting life and he’d wake up to a wet bed. “I know you’re committed to this little war of yours, but I don’t think you realize how committed I am. You better start sleeping during the day, Weissman.” I knelt next to him. “Because I’m going to haunt your dreams every night for the rest of your life.”

He glared at me. “No … you’re not.”

There was a screaming, flaring pain in my head as something broke through the bright white walls of the dream. Everything went red and I found myself on my knees in an agony of my own.

“Bet you thought you had me there for a minute,” Weissman said. His sadistic glee had returned. “But that was dumb on your part. Because if you think I hadn’t considered the possibility you would try this very thing, you’d be WRONG.” He raised his voice on the last bit. “You feel that pain?” There was a shocking agony in the front of my head, radiating out like fire in my brain. “That’s a telepath, stepping into your little dreamwalk. It’s your friend Claire from Vegas, and I think she’s still a little upset that you broke her leg the way you did.”