Mortal Danger (Page 60)

That made her smile. “Fine. I’ll try your new age-y crap before I dump this on my mom. God knows she has enough to worry about with Kenny starting junior high.” She went on to tell me about her brother’s host of mental problems, most of which required medication.

“Better?” I asked.

“Yeah. Thanks.

“That’s what friends are for.” I repeated her words from earlier, trying to sound calm and reassuring.

She paused for a few seconds, and I wished I could reach through my laptop to hug her. “My friends here aren’t the same. You know?”

“Sure.” Because I knew it would make her laugh, I said, “You’re my sister from another mister.”

“Totally. I’ll keep you posted on whether the tea and serenity stuff makes a dent in my crazy.”

“Later.”

This time, when I closed my computer, I tapped out a text to Kian. Come early, it’s urgent. Favor related.

Five minutes after I sent that, he ported into my room. “Edie, don’t rush this. You can have five years, free and clear. Take them.”

“I can’t. Wedderburn is terrorizing Vi. Isn’t that … cheating or something?”

“Not by their standards.”

“You didn’t tell me they could do this when I first signed up for the deal.”

He lowered his eyes, cheeks washed with red. “You didn’t ask.” Then his voice went low. “I’m sorry. I wanted to warn you. I did. That’s the second thing I feel guilty about in relation to you.”

I almost asked what the first one was, and then I remembered that he felt horrible about not dying for me. Crazy, beautiful boy. Though I’d tried to absolve him, clearly Kian agreed with Voltaire: “Every man is guilty of all the good he did not do.” Even if it meant paying the ultimate price.

He went on, “But I … also wanted to save your life.”

“It doesn’t matter. At this point, I’m ready to use my second favor.”

“Edie—”

“Will you grant it or do I need to go over your head?” I was dead serious.

“I’m listening,” he said, resigned.

“First I need to ask a clarifying question.”

“Go for it.”

“Can I include multiple people in a request? Like, if I want to protect all of my loved ones from the game?”

Kian shook his head. “By immortal standards, that would require a favor for each of them. You could pick two people, at most, and that would burn your last two.”

“Dammit.” But Wedderburn had given no sign that Ryu or my parents had registered with him, so maybe I shouldn’t borrow trouble. “Fine. Then this is what I want: He needs to keep Vi out of this. She gets to have her happy life without being bothered. I don’t want the fact that we’re friends to screw her up. Can you do it?”

“This is exactly what he wants,” Kian warned.

“I still have one favor. He hasn’t railroaded me all the way yet, so that gives me a little leverage.”

“Your mind’s made up then.” He looked as if I’d confessed to having brain cancer when he tapped his watch, one of the myriad buttons whose function I didn’t know, and Wedderburn’s face appeared above it in 3-D holo.

“Yes?”

Kian repeated my request, though more elegantly. For the first time, I could imagine him on the path to law school and eventually the Supreme Court. It was sort of odd, since he wasn’t actually that person, but there were echoes. People were mirrors turned inward to infinity, where all choices and roads not taken led to an endless shifting of self.

When Wedderburn smiled, I wished I could reach through the ether and throttle him. “This is easily done. A commendable gesture on your part, Miss Kramer. Your friend’s future is safe, assured by your altruism, and you are one step hearer to your destiny.”

“Bullshit,” I said.

I hissed as my wrist burned. Another line, this one crossed the infinity symbol in the middle, where the two halves met. Two out of three favors burned. Fear bubbled inside me at shifting that much closer to Wedderburn’s clutches, but I didn’t regret protecting Vi. It chafed that I’d played into the icy devil’s hands, but what else could I have done?

“Think what you like.” Wedderburn’s tone radiated pure satisfaction. “It has been a pleasure, as always.”

When the holo vanished, Kian’s shoulders slumped. “I wish you hadn’t done that.”

“He was making Vi crazy. How long before he got bored with the cat-and-mouse thing and did something worse to her?” No way to prove it, but I suspected Wedderburn didn’t listen when I told him not to intervene with the Teflon crew. If so, Brittany’s death was on me. But it could also be D&F, trying to drive me nuts with guilt. My head throbbed.

“I don’t know,” he said quietly. “Their sense of time doesn’t align with ours, usually. They’re capricious, but…”

“What?”

“They have long attention spans. I’ve known creatures to stalk one person for years, just appearing and watching, appearing and watching, feasting on their fear.”

“Until that person winds up eating pudding from a cup for every meal and living in a room with upholstered walls? Because nobody will believe them.”

Kian stepped closer, and I went into his arms.

“It makes me want to interview a bunch of people in mental hospitals and find out what they know.”

He grinned. “I guarantee that’s not the future Wedderburn’s pushing you toward.”

“That’s hardly a deterrent. He says I’m on track, but who the hell knows? According to you, I won’t find out until I graduate.”

“Worst matriculation present ever.”

“It’s hot when you use ten-dollar words.” I smiled up at him, ready for a kiss, until I heard one of my parents coming down the hall.

“Edie? Who are you talking to?” my dad asked.

“I’m on Skype,” I called, while motioning for Kian to disappear.

“Ah. Say hi to Vi for me.”

With a regretful look, Kian ported, leaving me to wait for him to pick me up the old-fashioned way. When he arrived via the front door, he was a little late. Both my parents inspected him for the second time, and my mom grilled him about his science background. I suspected she might show him the door if he showed too many liberal arts tendencies. Most likely, his poetry journal would get him evicted.