Sleight (31 page)

THE FIRE WAS still burning and the room was comfortably warm. Mr. G had taken a seat in his favorite spot. I sat on a leather cushioned couch with fancy wooden legs and Justine had planted herself in a straight-backed chair, draping her coat over the back.

She’d picked a spot as far from me as possible. So much for love. I could hear Maddy’s voice singing to me from a distance:
‘Boys are sooooo dumb!’
Somehow I didn’t find it helpful.

Kenwoode remained standing. He didn’t seem to be in any pain and I wondered if Constance was connected to his sudden improvement. She sat nearest the fire, her eyes flicking form Justine to me and back. Probably picking up on the negative vibe between us.

“We need to come to a plan of action quickly,” said Kenwoode. His voice sounded rough.

“So who’s my escort?” I asked.

“
Our
escort,” said Justine.

“I am. And Brock,” Kenwoode said. He glanced at Mr. Goodturn, ignoring Justine. He was wearing the same black close fitting material he’d had on two days ago, but the bullet holes were gone. Did he have a whole closet filled with black tights?

Mr. G nodded, his glasses alternately flashing reflected light and shadows with each bob.

“How is this supposed to work? The girl said Sawyer was trying to get the map to
you
.  We
all
march down there?” I asked.

Shifting from one leg to the other Kenwoode grunted. “No. You’ll proceed alone—”

“I’m going too!” snapped Justine.

“—while Brock and I tail you,” continued Kenwoode, completely ignoring Justine again. “The goal is to find out exactly what is happening down there, although I have my suspicions. Since you’ve been willing to risk yourself as bait, we thought this might give us an advantage, provided that you’re not discovered.”

“Discovered?”

“Yes, Benjamin. We want you to use your ability to camouflage yourself to get close enough to spy on whatever this meeting might be,” said Mr. Goodturn.

“Okay, sure,” I said.

“It may be dangerous Benjamin. If you have any reluctance I will not judge you if you would rather not go,” Mr. Goodturn said, his hand stroking his cheek.

“No. I want to,” I said. I was thinking about Sonja and the possibility of getting rid of her once and for all. “But I have a question. Who was the redhead?”

Kenwoode growled. “Sawyer’s research was in error. The woman we captured was indeed a Shade, but it was she who was living in the condominium, not Sonja.”

“Who was she then?” I asked.

Mr. Goodturn cleared his throat and glanced at Kenwoode. “Irena Weller. She’s someone who is apparently the leader of a Shade cell. Sawyer’s computer sleuthing led us to the wrong person but it turned out to be an even more important discovery.”

“That means that Sonja is still running around,” I said.

“Likely,” said Kenwoode. “But that is secondary at this point. We think the two hunters you followed were indeed working for Sonja and that all of them were interfering with this Miss Weller. We believe the assassin you and Sawyer eliminated was probably hired by Weller to remove competitors from the field.”

More military jargon, and one more piece of history to wonder about.

“The map shows a route in Underground Seattle. How are you going to prevent yourself from being spotted?” I asked Kenwoode.

“I’m experienced at not being seen when it suits me. Your main concern is to not get boxed in when you arrive at the destination marked on the map,” He said.

“What do you think it means?” I asked.

Mr. Goodturn leaned back in his chair and made a show of clearing his throat. “We think the event is a meeting for recruiting.”

“Yes,” said Kenwoode. “It’s seems likely that your suspicion as to the identity of the blond girl is correct, and that she is part of a cell.”

“You think Sawyer’s a Shade then?” I asked.

Kenwoode gave his head a rapid shake. It looked like an animal shaking off flies. “Actually, no.”

“No?” Justine and I said in unison.

“We think Sawyer was under duress the other night. I personally vetted him. I don’t think he betrayed us willingly. His getting a map to you, for
me
actually, dovetails with our original plan to ferret out the Shade activity,” Kenwoode said.

“So you think he’s being held against his will?”

Kenwoode shook his head again. “Not likely. The girl couldn’t have gotten a map out if he had been incapacitated.” He glanced at Mr. Goodturn. “We believe that Sawyer has delivered the location to help us get a step closer to the Master Shade. Obviously he knows we would take precautions.”

“If that’s true why didn’t the girl give me more detail?” I asked.

Mr. Goodturn took off his glasses, wiped them on his shirt and put them back on. “We’re not sure, but based on your account, the young lady that approached you did so without any personal conviction that it was the right thing to do.”

That didn’t make me feel very confident about my safety. “What am I supposed to do?”

Kenwoode took a step closer to me. “Let’s discuss that.”

Justine stood up. “I’m going too.”

Turning his head to look at her, Kenwoode frowned. Justine took an involuntary step backward.

“No, you are
not
,” he said. “Your lack of familiarity with your own differences, let alone the bigger picture, effectively dismisses you from being part of this exercise. We can’t risk you.” I marveled at his cluelessness.

Justine put her hands on her hips. “If Benny can go why is it such a big deal?”

“Miss Winters I think I understand your desire to accompany Benjamin;” said Mr. Goodturn. “But your presence would not only complicate things, it could potentially put Benjamin at risk. Is that something you want to do?”

She hesitated. “No,” she said, a little petulantly. Her lower lip was pushed out and her eyes crackled with violet light.

“Then it would be my recommendation that you sit this one out.”

I thought he’d been doing an excellent job of diffusing the situation until he said that. Her shoulders stiffened and she arched her back. I was positive that we were about to be on the receiving end of a verbal barrage.

Turns out I still didn’t understand girls.

“Okay, fine. But I’m not happy about it,” she said, pulling on her jacket and shoving her hands deep into her pockets. It was difficult for me to sense her emotional currents. There was too much going on under that platinum colored hair for me to get a clean read. Mr. Goodturn stared at her for a moment then nodded.

“Excellent. Brock is the only one we haven’t brought up to date. Constance, would you mind seeing if he is up and about? Benjamin, would you walk Miss Winters to her car?”

“Sure,” I said. I knew a dismissal when I heard one, so I got off the couch. Justine looked at me, her expression flat. Turning away she walked out of the library and I hurried to catch up with her.

“Justine, wait,” I said as we got to the front door.

Without turning around she just opened the door and headed into the hall. The elevator door was open and she walked in and pushed the ‘down’ button.

I got in and the rickety old door closed as the elevator started to descend to the shop.

“Justine, come on. I don’t want you to leave being pissed at me.”

Zipping up her jacket, still facing the closed door, she raised her chin and looked at me sideways from under long lashes. “Do you know how many boys flirted with me when I went back to school?”

“Uh, no.” Here we were again, riding the currents in unpredictable territory.

“Me either, but it was a bunch. Some boys want to get close to me. Then there’s you. If you can’t say it you don’t feel it,” she said.

“Justine, do you want me to say something just because you want to hear it? Don’t you understand that I’m trying to protect you? And that it’s because of how much you mean to me? Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

The door opened and she turned to face me. “Then why is it so hard for you to tell me whether you feel the same way I do?”

The fact was that when I was with her I was happy, knack-sucking talent aside. But when I was thinking about Maddy my thoughts and feelings were a mess. I’d never told Maddy how I felt about
her
either. But at least I knew what I
wished
I had the courage to say to her.

She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. “See? You can’t even answer that.” She got out of the elevator and stalked down the hallway toward the front of the shop.

“Justine, I’m sorry. Wait,” I said, walking after her.

Flipping the deadbolt with a loud clack she pushed the door open. Turning toward me as she stood on the threshold. Her eyes were downcast and she didn’t raise them to look at me.

“Don’t Benny. Kayla was right. I’m an idiot. Tell Constance that I appreciate what she did for me.”

Stepping out onto the sidewalk letting the door close behind her, she hurried down the street.

My phone buzzed and I numbly pulled it from my pocket.

Perfect timing.

Maddy.

It was another happy text counting down the hours to her arrival, packed with exclamation marks and emojis; and another hint at some big news. It was just a few days until she and her parents rolled into town. Her uncle Ty had been holding down the fort at their downtown condo until the lease ran out at the end of the summer. I zipped off a quick text. Upbeat but brief. It was all I could muster at the moment being fresh from what I was pretty sure was a final kiss off from Justine.

Sans kiss.

Definitely off.

Not that we were ever on.

Yeah I definitely had my head on straight.

I walked outside and headed to my building, planning on grabbing something to eat. Thinking of Maddy and her impending arrival shoved aside thoughts of my argument with Justine. I hadn’t seen her in a month, and the last week she’d been in town we hadn’t been allowed to spend much time together. I’d suffered a couple of setbacks that had made Maddy’s parents less than excited about her spending time with me. To be clear, not just setbacks: one trip to the hospital after being beaten unconscious, getting drugged on a bus and dragged into an alley by Sonja, and almost getting mugged on the way home from a dance. You know, same ole, same ole.

If you’re looking for a checklist of ways to impress the parents of a girl still in high school, those particular events don’t come highly recommended. Then there was the fact that despite our close friendship Maddy didn’t know how I really felt about her. I’d reasoned that the risk was too steep to take. And then, whether I’d rolled the dice and told her or not, it wouldn’t have changed her parents’ decision to move. I mean seriously, what parent is going to turn down a great job because their daughter tells them that a boy has declared his undying love for her? At the age of sixteen?

Not likely.

But now that she lived two states away those reasons for not telling her didn’t seem to matter. Or feel very smart.

My pocket buzzed and I dug my phone out of my pocket. My message light was on. I scrolled to new messages. There was a video file parked at the top of the queue.

Curious, I clicked it to run.

What opened was the last thing I expected to see.

BY THE TIME I got back up to Mr. Goodturn’s apartment Brock was in the library with Kenwoode and Mr. Goodturn. They were all standing in front of the huge leather topped desk near the windows. A detailed map of downtown Seattle had been spread out with Sawyer’s map next to it.

When I ran in they all looked up. I breathlessly showed all three of them what had been sent to my phone. Brock was underwhelmed, I couldn’t read Kenwoode’s expression, but Mr. G seemed to share my concern.

“It doesn’t change anything Harald,” said Kenwoode.

“I say we leave the kid here and do this ourselves Preston. The map was meant for you. The boy was just a conduit,” said Brock, who apparently wasn’t worried about improving our relationship.

“Maybe we should leave
you
here,” I said. “You can’t seem to stay on your feet when there are Shades around,” I said. Not nice I know, but his act had worn thin and I was done being discounted because I wasn’t over twenty one.

“Ah, I think Preston and I are capable of determining the appropriate makeup for our little expedition. Thank you both,” said Mr. Goodturn.

The tension of our disagreement from the day before still hung in the air, and I took his finessing my beef with Brock as another olive branch. I did my best to swallow my my pride. For his part Brock shot me a glare and then took a seat in a nearby chair, hanging a leg over the arm.

“Now, Benjamin we think your abilities make you the best choice for reconnaissance. You should take a bus, your usual mode of transportation, so as not to raise any suspicion that you are being followed. This will allow Preston and Brock to set up near this building,” he pointed at a spot on the map near Pioneer Square, “which will allow them to reconnoiter the immediate vicinity. They’ll choose a spot along this track that will afford them the best view available. You will enter this building,” another tap of his finger, “where apparently a tunnel will give you access to the alleyway below ground. Then it is a matter of a several hundred yards to the meeting spot designated by Sawyer’s markings. You’ll need to be careful since the entire area is a part of underground Seattle that hasn’t been reclaimed.”

In 1889 a fire had burned most of the wooden buildings in the city and destroyed what was now known as Pioneer Square. The city fathers had made the decision to rebuild fifteen to twenty feet higher to improve drainage on the city’s streets during the rainy season, which was pretty much all the time. The result was a submerged lower level of streets, alleys and store fronts that had been abandoned.

The buildings surrounding the spot on the map that Sawyer had marked were far from the tourist routes. Warehouses and some dilapidated storefronts dominated street level buildings. Going underground in places where there hadn’t been any construction cleanup was risky for a number of reasons. First, the buildings and alleys below were often unstable and unsafe. Second, the homeless, drug traffic and gang activity made visiting them inadvisable even in the middle of the day. The Shades’ presence made it even more dangerous. Once I was underground it wouldn’t be easy for the others to keep me in sight without being seen.

I was nervous, but what I’d seen on my phone made it impossible for me to consider not going.

“I get it,” I said. “When do you think I should take off?”

“An hour before. Eleven o’clock. There’s no sense in cutting this too close. That gives us plenty of time to get in position,” said Kenwoode.

Mr. Goodturn nodded.

“I’m gonna be strapped,” said Brock. “But we might want to consider packing counter measures in the event that we need a distraction.”

“Yes, I agree,” said Kenwoode.

“Well, then let’s discuss the timetable in detail and itemize what each of you will need to take with you,” said Mr. Goodturn.

***********************************

Waiting for the bus and freezing despite the three layers I was wearing, I promised myself that I’d get my license soon and scrape together enough money to buy a beater. I’d made this promise before. The academic part wasn’t an issue. It was the car and the money to buy one.

A strong gust of wind rocked me and I could feel the tip of my nose getting ice cold. The air was so cold that it almost hurt to take in a breath. The metal light posts and the frame of the bus stop shelter sparkled with a layer of frost.

The sun had set hours ago. Scanning ahead and behind I didn’t see anyone lurking in a doorway or slouched against a building but I was still nervous.

I’d looked for Justine’s Prius and been relieved that I hadn’t seen it. Having located my stun gun on the roof I reached under my jacket and touched it for reassurance. Security blanket I know, but it was better than nothing; or as momma would have said:
‘better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick’.
Some of her folksy wisdom left me wondering about exactly what had gone on in her country upbringing.

When one of the combo diesel electric buses pulled up my face was getting numb. I climbed aboard and tried to push distracting thoughts out of my head. Grabbing a seat near the rear doors I had a good view of both entrances onto the bus and most of the seats. There were only two people behind me. One was a skinny dude wearing a puffy down jacket, who was swaying in rhythm to whatever he had pumping through his head phones. His eyes were closed and he hadn’t looked up when I sat down. The other person was a young woman who was wearing semi-professional clothing and looked wary. She’d made brief eye contact with me and then glanced out the window, apparently deciding I was beneath her concern. All good.

At the first stop we pulled in to a street that was lined with high end shopping and brightly lit trees. A crush of Christmas shoppers crammed onto the bus. Big shopping bags, laughter and lively conversation filled the enclosed space. Up ahead I could hear a couple of people happily singing a Christmas carole. People standing around me had smiles on their faces. It had been hard to get a look at everyone who had gotten on. I pulled my stun gun out of its holster and put it in my coat pocket. It made me feel safer but my nerves wouldn’t settle down.

When we pulled up to the next stop there was an organized scramble of people getting off and more getting on. Three women with armloads of boxes and bags got on, blocking my view. The doors closed and the bus lurched forward. The ladies with the mountain of packages shifted out of the way and a person wearing a felt bucket hat and a scarf that covered the face dropped into the aisle seat beside me. My finger slipped into the trigger guard of my stun gun.

Without turning to look at me the person said, “You got that shocker in your pocket?”

The hair on my scalp did an involuntary dance.

“Sawyer?” I asked.

He didn’t remove the concealing scarf but he nodded his head. “Yeah. Relax on the electric sparker. You know that doesn’t work on me.”

Easing my finger off the trigger I used my knack to press him firmly into his seat, holding his arms down.

“Really? You’re that mad?” he said.

“I’m just not that
stupid
,” I said. “I saw what you did to Danton. And you gave me a jolt too.”

“Come on Benny. I came to ask for hel—”

I increased the pressure, not enough to hurt him, but enough to make him uncomfortable.

“What do you want?” I whispered.

He grunted from the pressure. “Just giving you a heads up. Be careful.”

“We already know that. Why did you send the map to us?”

He squirmed under my knack influenced grip. “Look Benny, I didn’t want to do any of that the other night. I had to. I need your help.”

“We all have choices,” I muttered.

“I didn’t. They’ve got my sister.”

“What?”

“My sister was recruited by the Shades. She’s brainwashed, cult crap. I was going to come clean with you when we were at that restaurant, but then I saw Justine and Silver and you went all White Knight.”

I remembered him starting to say something and then changing his mind. “We were down there to spy on Sonja. You said Silver was working for her. That was all a lie?”

Squirming under my influence he nodded. “Yeah. I knew it was Weller, the redhead, who was in the condo building. I couldn’t find the rogue. They’ve been looking for her too.”

“Why drag me down there with you?”

“It was a test. They know that there’s a young Natural with serious skills in Seattle. You, but they don’t know your name. There’s a reward for finding you and getting you to join up. I figured if I could introduce you to them, they might cut my sister loose. But I didn’t. I know the thing on the roof was bad, but I want to make it right. Weller got a really good look at you. It’s not a good idea for you to be the one that goes to the meeting.”

“You were going to hand me over to them?” I hissed.

“I didn’t know you, Benny. Then I did. I couldn’t go through with it. Then Silver showed up, I accidentally scorched his eye trying to save you, then you brought the cop to Goodturn’s...” he paused. “It all went to hell. Then I had this dumb idea that Goodturn could work some mojo on Weller and my sister, but the cop and Kenwoode going off blew that.”

“The fliers, who were they?”

“Those are my foster sisters. Talia and Brin. You’ve already met Talia.”

“The blond?” I asked.

“Yeah.” He grunted, trying to get loose.

“How did they just happen to show up to save your ass?”

“I texted Talia when Kenwoode and Brock showed up with Weller. I knew they had the wrong person, and that Brin would be willing to come if it meant saving a Shade leader. Brin’s the one that’s brainwashed. It was a way to get her to come and maybe get her worked on by Goodturn. Then it turned out to be the escape plan.”

It sounded plausible, but his deception, and my naiveté in trusting him rankled me.

The bus’s brakes squealed as we came to a stop. “What is this thing tonight?”

“It’s another filtering meeting. Naturals who are in the process of joining are being put through another test before Weller will approve them.”

“Do you know what the test is?” I asked.

“No.” he said. “Look, I need to get off before we get to the Pioneer Square stop. If someone’s watching and they see me it might screw both if us. If they think I’m not a legit recruit they might hurt Brin.”

I was reluctant to let him go. I wanted to hand him over to Kenwoode. People were getting off and others were beginning to get on.

“I’m letting you go because I really don’t have a choice,” I said, releasing him.

He got up and looked down at me, only his eyes visible over the scarf. “All I can say is I’m sorry. But there’s one more thing.”

“I’ll bet,” I growled.

“There’s someone else coming to this thing tonight that I think knows who you are. If you let him see you he’ll ID you.”

“Well, thanks for that.”

He shrugged and was quickly swallowed up by the crowd as he got off. As the bus pulled away I saw him briefly as he headed for a corner and then he was gone.

Nothing he’d told me changed our plans. All it did was confuse me and make me more uptight. White lights strung in trees glittered through the windows of the bus as it trundled deeper into downtown. Looking out the rear window I saw a couple of tiny snowflakes swirl in the eddy of the bus’s wake and other passengers excitedly pointed at them. Up in the front of the bus the spontaneous carolers started singing
‘It’s Starting To Look A Lot Like Christmas’
.

Maybe. But it didn’t
feel
that way at the moment.

Halloween seemed more like it.