Storykiller (28 page)

But it frightened her how fast it was happening. How much she felt, how quickly, how deeply, how out of her control it all was. Sometimes when she thought of her and Robin, the image that sprang to mind was that of a speeding train that she had neither the power nor the desire to stop. Had that train been headed for the side of a mountain she would have been powerless to stop it, and she wouldn’t have cared.

Scary.

All week, they’d found no real leads and it left Tessa anxious, as if they were missing something. But she was also happy. For the first time in her life she had real friends and a boyfriend of sorts. She also had a purpose that felt big and important. If she could have just eliminated all the death and destruction from the equation, she might have been headed toward something resembling a real life, a good one.

Then Friday
happened.

Tessa’s dad had left the night before (and four days early) on the red-eye to San Francisco, leaving her with another white envelope of money, this one, sans a note. And in the morning, well before an hour fit for humans, or at least for humans named Tessa, the doorbell rang.

Tessa dragged her sword down the stairs with her, wondering what new hell awaited her. She opened the door, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, to find Robin standing in the rain in his faded hoodie and black leather jacket. He also had a reasonably full duffle bag slung over his shoulder. Tessa’s shoulders dropped. This couldn’t be good.

“It won’t be for long,” he said, before she could even say anything.

Tessa moved to the side and gestured him in. “Where?” she asked, monosyllabic.

“I have a lead I have to follow. It might help.”

“You have to go today? Tomorrow’s the funeral,” she said.

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“Why does it have to be you? Why can’t Fenris go?”

Robin laughed loudly, and Tessa made an annoyed face at him. “Tessa. You must listen to me about Fenris. You’re not taking his threat seriously enough. He is more powerful than you can imagine.”

“Why is he so powerful? I don’t understand. His story is old, but not older than others like Snow, right? What makes him so special? Why are you all so afraid of him?”

Tessa bit her tongue. She hadn’t meant to say afraid, she didn’t think he’d like that, but to her surprise he blew right past it. He crossed his arms and looked out the front windows and then looked back at her.

“You’re referring to
Little Red Riding Hood
,” he said. Tessa nodded. “Well, that’s 14
^th
century and a fair bit older than Snow, but that’s not his original story. Tessa, I thought you understood,” Robin put his bag down and paced the living room for a minute as if he was deciding what to say and what not to say. “Fenris is not just The Big Bad Wolf from
Little Red Riding Hood
, he is every big bad wolf EVER. Any non-specific ‘bad wolf iteration,’
that
is Fenris. He is the goddamn cautionary tale in the oldest of stories. He goes back thousands of years—to Aesop and your B.C. He is one of the oldest of us, and thus, one of the most powerful and feared. He walks through stories like a god. He has been made one by Mortals.”

Tessa looked at him and blinked. It was a lot to process all in one shot. “Oh,” was all she could get out. Robin watched her as she turned away from him, trying to gauge her reaction. Tessa turned back to him and smiled wryly, trying to make light of it. “Dude looks good for his age, yo?” Robin shook his head and grabbed her roughly by the shoulders.

“Tessa, you can’t trust him.”

“Don’t say that,” she said, shaking him off. “You’re always saying that. I don’t want to hear it,” she held up a hand. “It’s freaking me out.”

“It should freak you out. You need to—”

Tessa gestured at him, cutting him off. “No. He’s been loyal. He’s saved lives, including mine, including
yours
.”

“It’s an act, Tessa.”

“You can’t know that,” she said
bitterly.

“Tessa, it’s in the damn name. BIG. BAD. WOLF. For thousands of years. You think he’s a good guy?”

“I think people, even Stories, can change,” Tessa said.

“They don’t,” Robin said,
a hard edge to his voice.

“If you believe that, then you’re a thief and an anarchist with a
very
serious love story, You want me to judge you solely on that?”

“It’s different,” he said, lowering his head.

“Really?” Tessa said sarcastically, crossing her arms.

“Yes. For starters, I’m still a hero. At my core, I was written to be a hero. It’s in my DNA. I’m also sometimes a screw-up, or an asshole, a flake, a terrible son, a failure, a playboy, an anarchist, any number of iterations shade me with other aspects, but I always default back to hero, because that is ALWAYS part of my story. Fenris was built,
literally
built, to be the bad guy. The
original
bad guy. The bad guy to
represent
all bad guys. He is designed to seduce and kill you. Nothing more. Are you telling me you haven’t heard that in his voice? I’ve seen you feel it. I’ve seen you
shake it off, the almost hypnotic quality it has.”

Tessa blinked but didn’t look at Robin. That was true, and she couldn’t deny it. She didn’t even like Fenris, but there were times when he spoke that she felt herself changing her mind, being lulled into thinking something else. She shook her head.

“No. That’s not his fault any more than you being able to hit any target with an arrow is your fault.”

“Dammit, Tessa,” Robin breathed, frustrated. “Listen, I get it. You’re not destiny’s bitch. You’ve made that very clear. You believe, right or wrong, that we all have free will, even Stories, but I’m telling you, Fenris can’t fight his Fiction, not forever. Even if he wants to, which I doubt, it’s a battle he cannot win. Yes, there are parts of me that are dark and dangerous, even non-heroic, there have been many interpretations of my Fiction over the years, which give me layers and room to maneuver within my Fiction, if you will, but at the end of the day I am designed to be a big goddamn hero of epic proportions. I’m the guy that comes through. I save the day. I show up. It’s what I do, it’s who I am. I don’t say it to brag, I say it to draw a contrast.

“At the end of the day, no matter what you see them do, Snow and Fenris are the big bad tovaien villains. They will stab you in the back in the final act. Every time. Fenris will eventually show you who he really is, and if you’re not ready for it, if you don’t anticipate it, it will be devastating.” He took a breath and forced her to look him in the eyes. “You’re a hero, Tessa. They’re not on your side. But I am. I always will be.”

Tessa pinched the bridge of her nose to head off an oncoming headache. “He’s saved my life, Robin. If nothing else, I owe him. He’s in for now, and I don’t want to hear about it anymore.”

“There’s something else,” Robin said and Tessa could tell he was anxious about saying it. She sighed heavily.

“What now?”

“I think…I think part of what you need to be concerned about is that he’s a pack animal.”

Tessa blinked stupidly. “Excuse me?”

“I mean, traditionally, Fenris is not actually a pack animal. He’s the single wolf, which is an aberration in and of itself, but put him in a pack and he is the alpha. He’s the ultimate alpha.”

Tessa shrugged. “Great. Seems like that will work to our advantage in case we come upon any werewolves…which…hell, werewolves are real, wow…anyway, yeah, I mean, how is that not an advantage?

“Because, Tessa, YOU are the alpha here.”

Tessa stepped back from him half a step. “Huh?”

“Listen, I don’t have time to argue about this, I didn’t even want to bring it up, but ultimately in our worlds—Story
and
Mortal—The Scion, the only person with the power to kill us? YOU are the alpha. And more than that, you specifically are particularly strong and adept. I have met other Scions over the years, I haven’t known them well, but I’ve seen them and my opinion is that you’re nothing like them. You’re much stronger than they were. In just a few short weeks, you…I mean, you simply
command
a battlefield when you’re on it, and with almost no training; you boss around ancient and powerful Stories without a second thought; and you inspire people to join your cause. You don’t do these things deliberately or with malice, they just come naturally to you. You’re the ultimate alpha. And as a result, I think there is no way for him to see you as anything but a threat that must be taken out.”

Tessa stared at him. What he had said was incredibly kind, and it spoke volumes about how he respected her and maybe even how he felt about her, but it was hard to believe it and part of her didn’t want to because it was scary. She didn’t recognize the person he was describing. It didn’t sound like her. How could it? She was failing Trig, she couldn’t be in a room with her dad for more than five minutes without getting in a fight, and she selfishly thought all the time about making out with Robin Hood instead of saving the world. How could that be the same person he was describing?

“I…” Tessa had no idea what to say. Robin looked anxiously at the window.

“Tessa, I have to go.”

Tessa blinked, and started to get mad. “Wait. You’re going to say all of that, some of which is just amazing, and some of it so scary I can’t even process it, and then you’re just going to leave?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t have a choice. My window for leaving is very narrow.” He looked at his watch. If I don’t leave in the next two minutes, I’m going to miss it.”

Tessa felt angry, and even more annoyed that she had nowhere to direct it. “Okay, well then, thanks for the revelations.”

Robin looked away, both hurt and angry, and more than a little exasperated. “Have you even seen him recently?”

“No,” Tessa admitted. “Not since he disappeared the last time.”

“Convenient,” Robin mumbled.

Tessa cut him a sharp look.

“Okay, listen,” he said, clearly trying to make peace. He put his hands on her shoulders, gently this time, but she shook him off anyway. He gave up and sighed. “I didn’t want to fight with you before I left. That’s not why I’m here,” he said. Tessa crossed her arms again and looked at the carpet. Robin moved toward the door and picked up his bag. “Just do me a favor. D
on’t see him while I’m gone. It shouldn’t take more than a couple days,” he said.

“And what if something comes for me while you’re gone? You want me to not see him, to not accept his help, to maybe get myself killed—all because what—you’re jealous or something?”

“I’m not jealous,” he said flatly.

Tessa arched a skeptical eyebrow at him.

“I don’t like him around you, for a whole slew of reasons, but it’s nothing as simple, nothing as petty, as jealousy,” he said.

And Tessa could see that he meant it, even if she didn’t entirely believe him.

“Tessa,” he started, and then, looking at his watch, got a pained look on his face. He walked back a few steps toward her. “I have to go, I’m sorry.” He kissed her on the cheek and then walked out the door.

Tessa immediately regretted letting him go, despite her anger. Not only because it was a stupid fight, but also because anything could happen to her, to him, while they were apart. They didn’t live normal lives. They lived horribly violent aggressive lives. That could be the last time she was ever going to see him. The image of Bishop’s lifeless face snapped into her mind. Tessa threw the door open to chase after Robin, to apologize, but he was gone.

A
little stone of dread settled into the pit of her stomach. She didn’t know what it meant, but she felt suddenly sure it would stay there until he returned.

Robin hiked about a hundred yards into the forest behind Tessa’s house and checked his watch. He looked around to make sure he was in the right spot, but before he could verify it he felt that familiar snap of electricity that preceded a dimensional rift. A flash of blue illuminated the leaves all around him, and a moment later Tal materialized. She smiled at him and conflict rocked around inside him. It was a smile she gave to few and he knew he should cherish it, but it was a smile that wanted more than he could give and so there was guilt attached to it. She saw his hesitation and slipped back into her trademark stoicism, sighing, annoyed with him.

“I’m sorry,” he said, trying to cut her mood off at the pass.

“You don’t have to apologize to me,” she said flatly.

“Your expression says I do.”

“Don’t punish me with bullshit drama just for liking you more than every other worthless thing in the worlds.”

Robin smiled. “Oh, Talia. You have such a way with people. You should have looked into customer service instead of bounty hunting.”

Talia’s stony expression cracked, a smile peeking out.

Robin beamed at her. “So, I’m here. You were very adamant about me being on time, so let’s go.”

Just as he finished he heard a sound behind him and he spun, loading an arrow as he did, to see Snow, not remotely blending into the forest in a glittery white dress and a massive white fur coat, angrily pushing branches away from her. She stumbled in her heels as they sunk into the moist earth.