Mortal Danger
Delicious.
“When humans of exceptional potential reach the breaking point—what we call extremis—we can step in.”
I choked on my drink. “Humans. Which makes you what, exactly?”
Now I felt sure this was the lead-in to the most spectacular punk ever. I craned my neck, looking for Cameron, Brittany, Jen, Allison, or the cheer mascot, Davina. She had too much melanin for Blackbriar squad standards, so they kept her in a lion costume half the school year, and when she got out of it, she ran errands for the Teflon crew, who treated her more like a minion than a friend. I didn’t see anyone from school, but that didn’t mean they weren’t in somebody’s bedroom, laughing their asses off through this guy’s button cam. This would probably end up on YouTube.
Like the first video.
Kian shook his head. “I can’t answer that unless we come to an agreement.”
“Let’s cut to the chase,” I said tiredly. “I don’t know what they’re paying you, if you’re a struggling actor, or what, but I’m not interested. This isn’t even the meanest prank they’ve pulled. Are they watching right now?”
“Edie—”
“Wait,” I cut in. “I bet you don’t get paid unless I play along. Fine. Tell me more about this awesome deal. Can I get it for four low payments of nine ninety-five?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he leaned across the table and took my hand. Now that’s commitment to the bit, I thought.
Then the world vanished, a static skip in an old VCR tape. I remembered those from elementary school, the low-rent one I attended before my parents published, filed their first patent, and could afford a pricey prep school. That fast, the diner was just gone.
Brutal wind whipped my hair against my face. My glasses frosted over and my skin tightened with goose bumps in the icy air. A mountain stared back at me, rocky and wild. If I took four steps forward, I’d pitch off the edge. Vertigo spun my head, and I clung to Kian’s hand, unable to say a word. This looked like Tibet—or the pictures I’d seen anyway. Deep down, I’d always wanted to go … to kneel in a holy place with the silent monks. Could he know this about me? I glimpsed no civilization, just trees, rocks, and stars. The cold gnawed through me; I was dressed for late spring in Boston, not in Sherpa gear. Shock paralyzed me for a few seconds.
God, I had to be out of my damn mind. Hey, coma dream, how you doing? Let’s see where this takes you. But on the off chance it was real, I whispered, “Stop. Make it stop.”
Another shift, and we were back at Cuppa Joe. My hands felt like chips of ice. His, still wrapped around mine, radiated the same heat I’d noticed when he touched my shoulder. I glanced around wildly, wondering if anyone had noticed. The other patrons showed no signs that anything was wrong, but people didn’t do that. Vanish and materialize, like somebody was beaming us in a transporter.
But maybe that was key. People didn’t. Kian had called me an exceptional human, implying he wasn’t. I’d been full of breezy skepticism before; it died on that mountaintop. I drew my hand away, took a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm my pounding heart.
“How come nobody even blinked? That was some straight-up Star Trek stuff.”
“This is our place,” he said. “Company owned. I can’t tell you more right now.”
“Well, that jaunt registers pretty high on the she’ll-take-me-seriously meter.”
“I don’t usually have to resort to it this early in the conversation,” he admitted.
My milk shake was still sitting on the table, melting into baby-pink goop. “Sorry I cut you off. You said something about extremis?”
He nodded. “That’s when a human is about to die.”
Oddly, that cheered me. “So I was going to succeed.”
Kian didn’t seem so pleased. “Yes. In a sense, you’re already gone, Edie. If your fate wasn’t currently in limbo, I wouldn’t be permitted to talk to you. There’s a pivotal moment just before death, when bargains can be made. I’m authorized to offer you three favors now in return for three favors later.”
“I don’t understand. What kind of … favors?”
“Anything you want,” he said.
“Anything?” By my tone, it had to be obvious I meant things bigger and more impossible than tickets to Tahiti.
“My ability to change your life is limited only by your imagination.”
“But then you can ask me for anything,” I pointed out. “Three times. What if it’s not something I can deliver?”
“The favors requested in return will always be within your power to grant. That’s the way it works.”
“But there are no parameters of what you might ask … or when. It might be terrible. Or illegal.” Too well, I remembered “The Monkey’s Paw,” the burden of being a reader. Somebody who spent less time lost in books might’ve already signed on the dotted line.
“You were ready to throw your life away,” Kian said. “But are you brave enough to change it?”
“You never answered me. What are you?”
“How would that help you decide? If I’m a demon, I’m unlikely to admit it, so I could say anything. How would you know if I’m telling the truth?”
He had me there. I scowled and sipped my shake, the possible dangers and consequences banging around my head. Since I’d accepted I didn’t have a future, it seemed less scary to consider everything that could go wrong down the line. If my life imploded twenty years later when the bill came due, wouldn’t it be worth it to be happy first? It had been so long since I laughed that I couldn’t remember what it felt like to walk around without this awful weight in my chest.
“In a theoretical sense, say I agree to your deal. Is there a time limit on when I have to use my favors?”
Appreciation sparked in his gaze. Kian inclined his head. “The first must be used within a year. The rest within five.”
“To prevent people from getting what they want with the first, then sitting on the others until they die, thus blocking you from asking anything in return.”
“Exactly. The return favors may be collected anytime after completion of our side of the bargain.”
“So repayment could be due anytime. Talk about living under the hammer.”
“Some people feel the way. Others live in the moment and don’t worry about what might come.”