The Liberator dw-2 Page 4

  “Hey, Valery,” Charlie says, “I like your trench coat.”

  Red turns around in her seat. “Really? Been waiting for an excuse to wear it.” She nods toward the window at the fat purple clouds and the barren trees. “Not quite cold enough to warrant it, I don’t think. Even in December. But I’m making it work.”

  “Can we go?” I ask. Valery glares at me in the rearview mirror as I pluck the gold-framed shades hanging from my shirt and slip them on. “Now, please?”

  “You’re despicable,” she says, but she puts the car in drive, anyway, and heads toward the airport.

  “How am I paying for my goodies in Denver?” I ask. “Papa needs play money.”

  Valery reaches over, keeping her eyes on the road as she digs through her oversized, satin purse. “Glad you reminded me,” she says. “Here.”

  I take the card from her and turn it over. “Pull over.”

  “Why?” she asks. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m going to be freaking sick. That’s why.” I flick the card back into the front seat. It hits the windshield and plunks to the floor. “My name is Dante Walker, and I do not carry Discover cards. Discover is for senior citizens and budgeters.” I say the last word with a shiver.

  Valery manages to reach down and find the card. Then she throws it into my lap. “You’re a liberator now, which puts you on a budget.”

  “Oh, hell, no. I may have agreed to this assignment, but I’m used to a certain level of sweet, sultry excess,” I say. “Plus, why would I be on a budget while you’re driving a Benz?”

  “It was a bonus for doing my job well.” Valery straightens her turquoise necklace. “Don’t be so dramatic, Dante. It’ll do you good to see what it’s like on the other side.”

  I stick the Discover card into my back pocket and instantly feel like I’m covered in fleas and soot. Like I just got done cleaning some fart stain’s chimney, and I’m right about to beg for more porridge.

  Valery’s phone vibrates in her purse. She yanks it out. In the rearview, I watch her face change from delight at limiting my spending to alarm.

  I sit up straight. “What is it?”

  She glances at me in the mirror, and her face relaxes. “Nothing. You may be surprised to learn I have a life outside of toting you around.” Red may be trying to pass off the text she read as something innocent, but when she punches the accelerator, I’m not so sure.

  …

  When we get to Birmingham Airport, my stomach is in knots. Charlie’s hand never leaves my knee, but I can hardly look at her. Somehow, between last night and today, I lost my confidence in being separated. I still have the ivory horn in my pocket, and I know she must have hers, because I can feel it. But it doesn’t seem to be enough.

  Valery parks, and we walk toward the check-in area, the three of us. I’m not sure why Red feels the need to tag along for this part. Probably wants to make sure I follow through with my assignment.

  The airport is bustling even at the crack of Sunday morning. Beneath the fluorescent lights, guys in business suits and kids with candy cane–stained faces hurry past, headed to who cares where. The sounds of rolling suitcases is deafening, only broken up by sporadic announcements by an airport attendant who sound like he’s moments from taking his own life. Ah, Christmas cheer.

  There’s a horrendous snack stand with turd-colored coffee and flaky danishes that probably shouldn’t be flaky. But I’m hungry. I bypass the line and smile to myself when the peeps behind me mumble complaints. Telling their families and friends about “this dick in the snack line” will be the highlight of their day.

  When my gut is reasonably satisfied, and there’s not much left to do besides check my bags, I turn and look at Charlie. “Hey, uh…,” I start. “Think I can talk to Valery for a sec?”

  Charlie looks a little surprised but nods and smiles, anyway. “Just make sure I get the final send-off.” She motions toward some benches along a wall a short distance away. “I’ll be over there.” I want to tell her I know, that I’d sense her there even if she hadn’t told me. But I just walk over to Red, who was trying to give us space.

  “Before I do this—” I begin.

  “You’re not doing me any favors; this is your rear on the line.”

  “Before I do this, I have some questions. For starters, I want to know if we’ve heard any word about Blue’s death, and about whether Big Guy’s going to seek vengeance.”

  I can’t be certain, but I think I detect the corner of Valery’s mouth quirk upward. “It’s been handled.”

  “Yeah?” I say, grinning and throwing punches in the air. “Did we send someone in to tear crap up? Show ’em not to mess with the big dogs?”

  “So you’re a big dog now?”

  “Always have been, girl. Ruff.”

  She shakes her head. “I don’t think he wants war over what happened. But you never know. Things are shaky right now.”

  “This is all from Kraven?”

  Valery purses her lips as a man with a sad toupee nearly barrels into her. “Yes, from Kraven.”

  “He who has all the answers,” I say, tucking my thumbs beneath my belt buckle. “Okay, what about Charlie’s soul? When can I turn it in?”

  The hint of a smile I saw before vanishes. “Charlie’s soul is a special classification. He has to be sure they’re prepared for it.”

  “And in the meantime I’m supposed to carry it around with me? How can that be safer than anywhere up there with Big Guy?”

  “Do you have a problem carrying it?” she asks, stepping closer. “Because if you do, I’d be happy to take the burden.”

  “No,” I snarl. “No one touches it but me.” Glancing up at the harsh lighting, I say, “It’s just that her soul feels different than it should.”

  “You expect it to feel like all the others?” she asks, straightening her spine.

  I know she’s probably right, but I needed someone else to challenge my thought that it should feel the same. Looking over at the benches, I glimpse Charlie on her cell, though I can’t imagine who she’s talking to. Her blond hair falls over one side of her face, and she neatly tucks it behind her ear. She’s right there, so close I could get to her in a heartbeat, but already she feels too far away for comfort.

  “What if something happens to her while I’m gone?” I say. “What if the collectors return to finish what they started?”

  Valery does something out of character. She puts a hand on my shoulder. “If the collectors ascend anytime soon, it’s not Charlie they’ll be coming for.”

  I know what she’s saying. It’s something I’ve thought myself in the last few weeks, but never wanted to accept. “If I have her soul inside me, then it’s me they want.”

  Valery hesitates and nods. Then she drops her hand from my shoulder and glances over at Charlie. “They won’t hurt her. Not yet. Not when they don’t have her soul. Because if they kill her now, her body and soul go to us.”

  I shake my head. “It sounds like you’re talking about cargo.”

  “You know that’s not what I mean.”

  “If you knew they might come for me, why didn’t Big Guy send me on assignment away from Charlie right off the bat? Why wait until now?”

  “Arrangements had to be made first.” Valery pulls a cigarette from her purse and lights it. I’m pretty certain she can’t do that here, but meh, what do I care?

  “What kind of arrangements?” I ask.

  Blowing out a puff of smoke, Valery looks past me. “I can’t discuss them with you.”

  Rage rushes through me. “Then how about I stick around until you do tell me? Screw this assignment.”

  Valery’s eyes connect with mine. “You’ll go. You’ll go because you know you shouldn’t have stayed. Because you know as much as you want to protect her yourself, you’re doing more damage by being nearby.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut and pull in a deep breath through my nose. She’s right. I know she’s right. But it doesn’t sting any less to lea
ve. “You’ll watch after her,” I say to Valery, more as a statement than a question.

  “With my life.”

  I yank Red into a hug. I didn’t consciously think to do it, and Valery immediately stiffens in my arms, but eventually she relaxes and pats me awkwardly on the back.

  “Get off me, fungus,” she says into my shoulder, but her words hold no venom.

  Releasing her, I look back at Charlie. Valery heads toward the benches, and Charlie moves toward me. When she gets closer, she wraps her arms around my neck and pulls my face to hers. As her mouth touches mine, she says, “I have a surprise for you.”

  “I hate surprises,” I say.

  “Even surprises that could kick your ass all over a court?” someone says from behind me.

  I grin against Charlie’s mouth, then turn and see Annabelle standing nearby. Her short black hair and straight-as-Hugh-Hefner bangs make her look like that chick from Pulp Fiction. But her body is far from Uma Thurman’s. No, Annabelle’s built like a brick house…if a brick house married an Amazonian warrior. “I see you broke out,” I say.

  “Nah, I burned the whole damn place to the ground.” Annabelle holds her fist into the air like she just led several thousand prisoners out of Alcatraz. Then she pulls me into a hug that nearly severs my spine.

  “What were you in for again?” I ask when she releases me.

  “First degree meets B and E, holmes,” she answers in her best street voice.

  Charlie laughs. “Yeah, that or sneaking out to meet Bobby.”

  I raise my eyebrows at Annabelle. She bites down on her bottom lip and sways side to side like a schoolgirl. “Very naughty, Annabelle,” I say. “I do approve.”

  Annabelle places a hand on her hip. “What can I say? I’m a desirable woman,” she purrs. “Anyway, came to see you off. Char tells me you’re going to save a damsel in distress, but you’ll be back in a few days.”

  “That’s the story.”

  “Then I’ll leave you two to suck face.” Annabelle waves over her shoulder.

  Watching her go, my shoulders tense. Because I know what comes next: the part where I tell Charlie good-bye. I’m trying to think of the right thing to say when Charlie lays her hand on my arm and looks at me with the most perfect smile. “Want to see something?”

  I nod, but I can’t get over how happy she seems. It’s like my leaving doesn’t even bother her. I hear a man calling something else over the speakers as Charlie reaches down the front of her shirt and pulls out the ivory horn. It’s attached to an old-looking silver chain.

  “My grandma gave me this chain when I showed her the charm.” Charlie grips the horn in her palm. “She was the one who found the small hole at the top.”

  Narrowing my eyes, I pull my own horn out of my pocket and look it over. Sure enough, there’s a tiny hole drilled into mine as well. “Cool,” I say.

  Charlie’s smile falters. “I’m going to miss you.”

  “Are you?” I ask, my voice raspier than I intended.

  Her face falls. “Of course I am,” she says. “Why would you ask me that?”

  I shrug. “You seem pretty cheerful about this assignment.”

  Charlie’s face brightens again, her blue eyes shining. “That’s because I know you’re going to do great.” She tilts her head, grinning. “Because I know you’re a good person, and you can do good.”

  Something in me snaps. I know it’s probably the fear that she won’t be truly safe while I’m gone, but it’s also that I’m afraid what she’s saying isn’t true. “Maybe I don’t want to be good, Charlie. Maybe I want to be me.” I lean down and get in her face, beat my chest with a closed fist. “Maybe I’m bad to my core. And maybe I wish you were a little more like me.”

  She’s going to flip me off. I just know it. I’ve screwed up this good-bye, and now she’s going to tell me to jump out of the plane at thirty thousand feet. But instead she sucks in a breath like I’ve gut-punched her, and her eyes fall to the floor.

  “Charlie . . .”

  “You and I are going to be fine,” she says in a voice so calm it almost scares me. Her eyes flick up. “You hear me? You don’t want to leave because you’re afraid to be away from me. Of how you’ll be when I’m not around to influence your behavior.”

  My brain nearly splits open, because she’s right. I’ve been rebelling against becoming a liberator, and the only thing that’s kept me from becoming the Dante Walker I was when I was alive is her. I’m afraid I can’t be a good person.

  Charlie puts a hand on my chest. “I care about you. I’ll care about you wherever you are in this world.” She smiles. “And Denver isn’t so far away.”

  I pull her against me and hold her tight. I have an assignment to complete. And what’s more, I have to learn how to be a liberator. I’ve been putting off my transition from demon to…whatever…for too long. But I guess now is as good a time as ever.

  When I’m starting to feel a little better, I raise my head to look at Charlie. But when I do, I spot Valery on her cell. The action alone isn’t what grabbed my attention; it’s the look on her face. There’s a deep line between her eyes, and her lips are pulled tight. It seems like whoever is on the other end is telling her something huge. Dodging the huge crowd rushing by, she takes a few steps in our direction.

  I lean forward as much as I can without alarming Charlie.

  “…the twin scrolls,” Red says into the phone. “Yes, I understand she’s important. …leaving now. And once he’s there, Charlie will be safe. Right.” She nods and glances over at us.

  I look down at Charlie. “Did you hear what I said?” she asks.

  I cup her cheeks in my hands and nod. I don’t want her to think I’m ignoring her, but I need to hear what else Valery is saying. Red may have said that she trusts me, but I’m not sure the feeling is mutual.

  “Why can’t anyone read them?” Valery says, and I rejoice at having caught a full sentence. “…matter now. Yes, I’ll meet you at the Hive.” She pulls the phone away from her ear and pockets it. I try to keep a poker face when I look back at Charlie.

  She must realize I’m distracted, but she doesn’t show it. In fact, Charlie looks a bit distracted herself, like she’s lost in thought. I contemplate asking Valery what that was all about, but the knot in my chest tells me whatever she was discussing is important, and if she were going to divulge anything, she would have already, which means I need to keep the fact that I overheard her conversation a secret.

  Valery has pushed me to take this assignment, not that I really had a choice. And now I suspect that it may be for more than liberating this girl, Aspen. Maybe my going will keep Charlie safe, and not just because it separates me—who the collectors may come after—from Charlie, but because of something bigger. I’m not sure what that thing could be, but I’ll find out. In the meantime, I’m going with my gut. And my gut says to get the hell out of Alabama.

  Wrapping Charlie in my arms once more, I touch my forehead to hers. And then I press our lips together. A rush of energy and longing fires through my body as our mouths connect. My hands crawl up her back, and I pull her closer. In return, she wraps her arms around my neck and stretches up on her toes. I barely touch my tongue to hers, and a clap of thunder sounds in my chest. We’re in public, people brushing past us every few seconds. But each time I hold her like this, kiss her like this, there is nothing else. “I’ll miss you, angel,” I whisper. Then I release her and walk away while I still can.

  From over my shoulder, I hear Charlie mumble, “I’ll miss you, too.”

  But her words sound strained, like she’s lost in her own head.

  6

  Road Rage

  An hour into the flight, I still can’t stop thinking about Valery’s conversation. Who was she saying was important? Aspen? What are the twin scrolls? And what the H is the Hive?

  These thoughts swirl in an unproductive circle in my head. But before I decide to let them go, I vow to ask Max to do a little snooping for me. I
t’s a risky decision, because he might go running to Valery. But I’m betting on “bros before hos” and all that.

  I’m about to wave the flight attendant down to order a Bloody Mary when I catch sight of a fidgety girl one row back. She looks to be about seven and is leaning over this ancient guy—trying to see out the window—in a seriously invasive way. It’s like the girl doesn’t even see him at all. And this geezer looks like he’s sick and tired of being invisible to everyone.

  The girl tips over, and Death Walking shoulders her into place. No biggie. She just pushes across him again. The man glances around like he’s searching for her parents, but he doesn’t find them. After shouldering the kid back into place again, the man barks, “You’re being very rude.”

  The girl sits back instantly, her eyes as round as quarters. “I’m sorry,” she says with an oversized grin. “I’m trying to see if it’s true.”

  The man sighs. “If what’s true?”

  “If you can really see aliens from up here,” she answers, pulling her navy vest closed.

  People around the man chuckle, and though I’m fighting a smile, my lips win out and jerk upward. I bite the inside of my cheek, waiting to see how the guy responds. At first, he doesn’t. He just looks at her like she’s slow. Then he glances back out his window.

  I turn around in my seat and face forward, wondering how people do this. How they sit in coach and don’t purposely choke themselves out with stale peanuts. A while later, I check out the old man and girl again from sheer boredom and realize they’ve switched places. A laugh bursts from my throat and the woman next to me gives a worried look. I ignore her and study the man that’s watching the girl. He seems pleased to see her grinning at the postcard-sized window. As the girl presses her nose to the glass, he points past her at something. The girl giggles and gives him a light shove.

  I bet that’s how Charlie was as a kid.

  All changing people for the better and shit.

  In that moment, I think about what I could do right now. How Charlie has this power to make people better, and I have the power to reward them for it. When I think of it this way, it doesn’t seem quite so overwhelming. I’m not a liberator, not really. And I’ll never be as good as Charlie. But I did decide to accept this assignment, and since I’m already doing stuff I’m uncomfortable with, I might as well go all out.