Finale

CHAPTER 25

I WAS SITTING ON THE BATHROOM FLOOR, MY BACK against the shower door. My knees were drawn up, and even though the space heater was running, I felt cold and clammy. An empty bottle of devilcraft lay beside me. It was the last of my supply. I hardly remembered drinking it. A whole bottle gone, and it had done nothing for me. Even it couldn’t make me immune to heart-sickening despair.

I trusted Patch. I loved him too much to believe he’d hurt me this way. There had to be a reason, an explanation.

An explanation. The word echoed in my head, empty and taunting.

A knock sounded on the door.

“We have to share this thing, remember? And I have a bladder the size of a squirrel’s,” Marcie said.

I was slow to climb to my feet. Of all the absurd things to worry about, I wondered if Dabria was a better kisser. If Patch wished I was more like her. Crafty, icy, sophisticated. I wondered the precise moment he’d gone back to her. I wondered whether he hadn’t broken things off with me yet because he knew how devastated I’d be.

Yet.

A heavy feeling of uncertainty pressed doanipesquo;d gown on me.

I opened the door and brushed past Marcie. I’d made it five steps down the hall when I felt her eyes on my back.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Hey, wait up. Nora? Are you crying?”

I swiped my fingers under my eyes, surprised to find I had been crying. The whole moment felt frozen and distant. As if it were happening far away, in a dream.

Without turning I said, “I’m going out. Can you cover for me? I might not make curfew.”

I stopped once on my way to Patch’s place. I veered the Volkswagen sharply to the roadside, swung out, and paced the shoulder. It was full dark, and cold enough that I wished I’d brought my coat. I didn’t know what I’d say when I saw him. I didn’t want to launch into a raving outburst. I didn’t want to reduce myself to bawling, either.

I’d brought the pictures with me, and in the end, I decided they could do the talking. I’d hand them to him and limit my question to a succinct, “Why?”

The icy detachment that had settled over me like frost melted the moment I saw Dabria’s Bugatti parked outside Patch’s townhouse. I braked a half block away, swallowing hard. A knot of anger swelled in my throat, and I shoved out of the car.

I jammed my key into the house lock and marched in. The only light came from a lamp on an end table in the living room. Dabria was pacing the balcony window but stopped when she saw me.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, visibly startled.

I shook my head angrily. “Nope. That’s my line. This is my boyfriend’s house, which makes that my line, exclusively. Where is he?” I demanded, already striding to the hallway leading back to the master bedroom.

“Don’t bother. He’s not here.”

I whirled around. I gave Dabria a look that was incredulity, disgust, and menace all wrapped into one. “Then what. Are. You. Doing. Here?” I enunciated each word. I could feel rage bubbling up inside me, and I didn’t try to temper it. Dabria had this coming.

“I’m in trouble, Nora.” Her lip quivered.

“Couldn’t have said it better myself.” I flung the envelope of pictures at her. It landed near her feet. “How does it feel knowing you’re a boyfriend stealer? Is that what makes you feel good, Dabria? Taking what doesn’t belong to you? Or is it just the act of ripping apart a good thing that you enjoy?”

Dabria bent to retrieve the envelope, but she held my eyes the whole way. Her eyebrows furrowed with guarded uncertainty. I couldn’t believe she had the audacity to act like she didn’t know.

“Patch’s truck,” I raged. “You and him, some night earlier this week, together in his truck. You kissed him!”

She broke eye contact just long enough to peer inside the envelope. She set it on a sofa cushion. “You don’t u d;

“Oh, I think I do. You’re not that hard to figure out. You have no sense of respect or dignity. You take what you want, forget everyone else. You wanted Patch, and it looks like you got him.” Now my voice caught and my eyes burned. I tried to blink the tears away, but they were coming too fast.

“I’m in trouble because I made a mistake while doing a favor for Patch,” Dabria said in a soft, worried voice, clearly oblivious to my accusations. “Patch told me Blakely is developing devilcraft for Dante, and that the lab needs to be destroyed. He said if I ever came across information that might lead him to Blakely, or the lab, I was to immediately tell him.

“A couple nights ago, very late, a group of Nephilim came to me, wanting their fortunes told. I quickly learned they were employed as bodyguards in the Black Hand’s army. Up until that night, they had served as guards for a very powerful and important Nephil named Blakely. They had my attention. They went on to tell me their work was tedious and uneventful, and the hours long. Earlier that night, they had agreed to play a game of poker to pass the time, even though games or distractions of any kind were forbidden.

“One of the men left his post to buy a deck of cards. They played only a few minutes before they were discovered by their commander. He immediately dismissed and dishonorably discharged them from the army. The leader of the dismissed soldiers, Hanoth, was desperate to get his job back. He has family here and worries about supporting them, and about their safety if they are punished or cast out for his crimes. He came to me, hoping I could tell him whether there was a chance he would get his job back.

“I told his fortune first. I felt a strong urge to tell Hanoth the truth: that his former commander sought to imprison and torture him, and he should leave town with his family immediately. But I also knew that if I told him that, I’d lose all hope of finding Blakely. So I lied. I lied for Patch.

“I told Hanoth he should resolve his concerns directly with Blakely. I told him if he begged forgiveness, Blakely would pardon him. I knew if Hanoth believed my prophecy, he would lead me to Blakely. I wanted to do this for Patch. After everything he has done for me, giving me a second chance when no one else would”—her teary eyes flickered to mine—“it was the least I could do. I love him,” she stated simply, meeting my hard gaze without flinching. “I always will. He was my first love, and I won’t forget him. But he loves you now.” She gave a despondent sigh. “Maybe the day will come when the two of you aren’t so serious, and I’ll be waiting.”

“Don’t count on it,” I said. “Keep talking. Get to the part where you explain those pictures.” I glanced at the envelope on the sofa. It seemed to take up far too much space in the room. I wanted to rip up the pictures and fling the remains into the fireplace.

“Hanoth appeared to believe my lie. He left with his men, and I followed them. I took every precaution not to be detected. They outnumbered me, and if they caught me, I knew I would be in great danger.

“They left Coldwater, heading northwest. I followed them over an hour. I thought I must be getting close to Blakely. Towns had thinned and we were far out in the countryside. The Nephilim turned down a narrow road, and I followed.

“Right away, I knew something was wrong. They parked in the middle of the road. Four of the five had left the car. I sensed them fanning out, to my sides and behind me, creating a net in the darkness to surround me. I don’t know how they figured out I’d followed them. I drove the whole way with my lights off and stayed back far enough that I nearly lost them several times. Fearing it was already too late, I did the only thing I could. I ran on foot toward the river.

“I called Patch, telling him everything in a message. Then I waded into the river’s current, hoping the turbulence of the water would slow their ability to hear or sense me.

“They closed in on me many times. I had to leave the river and run through the woods. I couldn’t tell which direction I was running. But even if I made it to a town, I knew I wasn’t safe. If anyone witnessed Hanoth and his men attacking me, the Nephilim would just erase their memories. So I ran as fast and as far as I could.

“When Patch finally called back, I was hiding in an abandoned sawmill. I don’t know how much longer I could have kept running. Not long.” Tears sparkled in her eyes. “He came for me. He got me out of there. Even when I failed to find Blakely.” She smoothed her hair behind her ears and sniffled. “He drove me to Portland and made sure I had a safe place to stay. Before I got out of his truck, I kissed him.” Her eyes found mine. I couldn’t tell if they blazed with challenge or apology. “I initiated it, and he immediately ended it. I know what it looks like in the pictures, but it was my way of thanking him. It was over before it began. He made sure of it.”

Dabria jerked suddenly, as though yanked by an invisible hand. Her eyes rolled back to whites for a moment, then snapped back to their usual arctic blue. “If you don’t believe me, ask him. He’ll be here in less than a minute.”