The Burning City (17 page)

“Too bad you couldn’t steal all of them.”

“I downloaded the software from the Institute servers back when we first stole it. I have some very talented hackers in my group. We’d raid their databases all the time, before they caught on and locked us out. It seems the software is still working. Imagine that.”

She grunted.

“So now I have this tiny inconspicuous device and the means to track it.”

She tilted her head.

“I could put that to good use, don’t you think?”

She squinted. “You think Anthony could put it on Robbie?”

“Anthony won’t get that close to Robbie, trust me. Robbie isn’t going to crawl out of hiding, even for his brother. Especially for his brother, if Anthony’s stories are true.”

“Put it on one of his henchmen, then. That would lead you to Robbie.”

“I thought about it. But I’m also not sure handing over one of the most powerful devices I have to a man we’re not sure we can trust is a good idea.”

“So… How are you going to use it?”

“I’m going to put it on Anthony.”

She blinked.

“At first,” Sam said. “We find out where he’s going, find out if he’s the real deal. If he is, I’ll ask him to put it on one of Robbie’s people.”

He was actually taking her advice. However…

“How are you going to put it on him? He can see the future. He’ll see you putting it on him.”

“He can only see the future; he can’t see the past. If I can plant it somewhere so he sits on it, or it gets stuck to him, he won’t be able to see that.”

“Yeah, but people take their clothes off. You can’t stick it to his clothes. All that’s going to tell you is where his laundry is.”

“On his shoe then. He’d have to put on shoes to leave the house. It’s durable and waterproof. I doubt walking on it would damage it.”

“No, it’s gotta go on his skin. You have to get it on his person.”

Sam slumped. “Any ideas, then? Because yes, if I stick it right to him, he’s probably going to see that coming.”

She considered the bag. “That thing sticks to your skin without being noticed? Not even a little?”

He opened the bag. “Yes, one of the reasons we didn’t trust it. It was obviously created with subterfuge in mind.”

He dipped a finger inside and slid the chip out on his fingertip. He motioned for her to stretch out her arm.

She did. He frowned.

“Do you have an inch of skin that isn’t covered in tattoos? I need you to see what it looks like against your normal skin.”

She rolled her eyes and tugged up the side of her shirt. “Here.” She turned her bare side to him. Her ribs stuck out. “I thought you knew every inch of my body by now.”

He smoothed it against her side, above her hip.

Truly, she couldn’t feel it. She’d expected it to feel like a piece of tape stuck to her, but there was no sensation whatsoever. She stroked her finger across it. It didn’t feel like anything, either.

“That’s freaky,” she said. “There’s no way in hell this wasn’t made to be stuck on people without them knowing.” She picked at it. “Is it hard to pull off? Do you think people might be out there right now with one of these still stuck to them?”

She had to dig her fingernails under the edge to remove it—and it only peeled off reluctantly, like a fresh Band-Aid.

“I don’t know,” Sam said. “I can only access this one with the software because I have the serial number. I’d have to know the numbers of other ones to see if they’re still functioning and where they are.”

She stuck it to the back of her hand. The material didn’t catch the light, and the circuits were so tiny she had to search for them. The damn thing was nearly invisible.

“I doubt he’ll feel it being attached,” Sam said. “But how do we get it on his skin?”

“He can only see the future of the person he’s interacting with, right?” She peeled the chip off and held it out to Sam on her finger. “And he can only see what’s about to happen, right? In the near future?”

Sam took the chip and slipped it back into the bag.

“What if someone put it on him before he knows that person is there?” she said. “It would happen before he began interacting with them, so it would already be in the past.”

Sam narrowed his eyes. “How would we manage that?”

“I’ll sneak up on him from behind.”

“You?” He blinked.

“You’ll be talking to him. Someone needs to, so he’s distracted. You keep his attention. I’ll creep up on him.”

“You realize he’ll go through the roof if you sneak up and touch him?”

“Yeah, probably. At least we’ll get some entertainment out of it.”

Sam placed the bag on the counter next to his laptop. “There’s a lot of things he might see. We have to be careful. He can’t read minds, but any point past you putting it on him, he’ll see and hear what we do.”

“Okay, then I have to sneak up on you, too, so you don’t know I’m coming, so he doesn’t see you seeing me.” She paused, trying to untangle her brain. “And we have to make sure after that we don’t talk about it for a while and you don’t start tracking it, maybe not for a day or so. Remember he said things get too convoluted after a while?”

Sam slipped an arm around her waist. “You’re brilliant.” He kissed her cheek. “He’ll be over later, since we were so rudely interrupted last night. We’re going to discuss what the next move should be.”

“Just tell me where you’ll be, and you won’t know I’m coming.”

He swatted her ass. “Unlike earlier?”

She pinched his side.

The house filled up with people again. They seemed to be engaged in a mixture of planning for the beach party, assembling Sam’s mayoral campaign, and discussing the vampire murders. June considered maybe she could help with drawing some posters or something, but they weren’t in the creative stages yet. Everyone congregated in the living room this time, and June lurked on the edges of the group, waiting for her cue.

Eventually Sam got a text, nodded to her, and left the room. She slipped off in the opposite direction, toward the kitchen. He’d told her he’d meet with Anthony in his office.

As she was retrieving the bag from the drawer Sam had stashed it in, Cindy walked into the kitchen.

“I need more coffee.” Cindy made a beeline for the coffee maker, which had been in a constant state of percolation for the past few hours. “And some whiskey. There’s too many pretty boys here.”

June pushed the bag into her hip pocket. “Sam’s got some in the cabinet under the sink. I found it when we were cleaning up.”

“Oh, I know where he hides his liquor.” She opened the cabinet beneath the sink and whipped out a bottle of Jack Daniels. “It’s his emergency stash, for people like me.”

“I take it you’ve been here a lot? Sam often has house parties like this?”

Cindy huffed, pouring whiskey into her cup. “There’s always something going on at Sam’s house. The various chapters have their own headquarters, but this has always been
the
headquarters.” She plunked the bottle down. “And now I get to be part of the team. I’ll be over here all the time. We can hang out!”

“Yeah. Get our nails done together and everything.”

“How long has it been since you had your nails done?”

June held her hand out. The paint job she currently had was self-done and a little wonky, painted for the press conference. “Way too long.”

“We’re gonna fix that.”

“Sure thing.”

Cindy dived into her spiked coffee, and June left the room.

She locked herself in the downstairs bathroom and removed the chip from the bag. She perched it delicately on her middle and index fingers, an ephemeral slip of nothingness. She was paranoid she would drop it before she got to the office.

She stared at her reflection in the mirror, working out in her head the steps she would take. Sam assured her Anthony would have his back to the door. She had to be stealthy and quick.

As she gazed at herself, something struck her. Her reflection was the same as always—her face too gaunt, her shoulders too sharp under her shirt. Her hair looked good now that she’d had it done, full and shiny and the black lustrously dark.

However, maybe it was the renewed color of her hair, but her eyes seemed different. She leaned closer to the mirror, peering into them.

She was used to how vibrant green they were, how radiant, almost luminescent in the right light. But now they seemed duller. The color wasn’t as intense.

She blinked a few times. Maybe she was imagining it. Maybe it was the lighting.

Or maybe she was dying. Was this the first sign of dying? Did the color fade from her eyes? She was instantly nauseated at the thought, her stomach clenching.

She drew back. Surely, she was imagining things. She’d been “dying” for years, according to Occam. Why would her eyes start fading now? Why would that even happen?

A soft rustling drew her attention. She jerked her head around and stared at the tub in the corner of the room, where the sound had come from. Shower tubing was attached to the tub, and a white shower curtain hung from it.

She’d heard the curtain rustle.

Her senses sharpened. She walked cautiously toward the tub. The curtain was open across the front, and obviously no one was standing inside; however, between the back of the curtain and the wall there was a space.

She stopped a few feet from the tub, holding her breath, the chip still delicately resting on her fingertips.

“Is someone there?” she whispered.

She scanned the ceiling and walls for a vent air might have come through. None. Had Dipity sneaked in the bathroom to hide from all the people?

June peeked around the back of the tub. No one—not human, vampire, or cat.

She drew a sigh. She was getting way too paranoid.

She left the bathroom and crept down the hallway leading back to Sam’s office. He’d left the light off in the hallway, and she slunk against the wall, toward the open door at the end. Light shone from the room. Sam’s voice drifted out.

She positioned herself outside the doorway and peeked in.

Sam sat at a desk in front of a wall of windows. The room was full of bookcases and filing cabinets. FBI bins and boxes sat on the floor. The desk was situated across from the doorway and slightly to the left. Anthony sat with his back to her.

Anthony wore a T-shirt, so the back of his neck was exposed. The back of his arm was also visible, his elbow resting on the arm of the chair. Touching his neck would be over-intimate and creepy, not to mention suspicious.

She waited. Sam promised he would give her opportunities to come into the room. They were talking about Robbie. She strained to hear.

“My brother was always vicious,” Anthony said. “Even when we were kids. He didn’t have friends. I didn’t, either. I found it hard to be around people. I was always hiding. But Robbie was just…mean. He drove people away.”

Sam was doing something on the desktop computer in front of him. “They say most psychopaths are like that, even as children.”

“He got really involved in the paranormal community as he grew up,” Anthony said. “But even then, he treated people badly. He’d get in fights and use his powers on people. He was violent toward me too.” Anthony’s voice dropped lower, so she could barely hear it. “He took his anger out on me. He said I was weak and I deserved it.”

If he was legit, he’d suffered a lot. He’d been Robbie’s whipping boy most of his life. She’d feel sorry for him, if he wasn’t a liar.

“I can’t wait until he’s dead.” Anthony’s voice rose. “I can’t wait until he pays for all the things he’s done. I wish I could see that far ahead. I wish I could see it happening.”

Sam turned his attention to him. “You and me both. If you’re not there when it happens, I’ll film it for you.”

June was starting to get impatient, but then Sam gave her an opening. He turned away from the desk and opened a drawer in the filing cabinet behind him.

Quick and silent, she dashed across the room. She gripped Anthony’s bare upper arm.

“Anthony!”

Anthony recoiled and jerked out of her grip.

“Sorry, sorry.” She held her hands up. “I just didn’t realize you were here. I wanted to say hi.”

Anthony stared up at her wide-eyed, cringing against the chair. His eyes flashed.

Sam turned from the filing cabinet, eyebrows raised. “June. What’s up?”

“I didn’t realize you were in here talking to Anthony.” She took a step back from the chair. “Listen, dude… I’m really sorry about yesterday, how I jumped on you like that. I was in a panic. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Anthony sagged a little, though he remained tilted away, staring warily at her.

“Really,” June said. “I’m sorry. And thank you for helping me. As much as you could, anyway.”

“It’s okay.” His eyes flashed again. “I wish I could have seen further.”

“Anthony is going to try to talk to Robbie’s goons again,” Sam said. “See if he can get some information. Robbie actually sent him an e-mail.”

“Did he?” June asked.

Anthony nodded. “It was short, but it seems he’s well-aware I’m interested in speaking to him again.”

Sam turned to his computer. “Anthony forwarded it to me.” He read, “‘I’m glad you’re finally starting to crawl out of your shell. I’m sorry for having you watched, but I don’t want to see anything happen to you. If you wish to speak directly to me, let me know.’”

“I haven’t e-mailed him back.” Anthony sat up. “I have a feeling if I said I wanted to talk to him, he wouldn’t summon me to him. He’d come to me, and that wouldn’t help you guys. Also, I don’t want him in my house.”

“Can you figure out where the e-mail came from?” June asked. “Like an IP address or something?”

Sam nodded. “Possibly. I’ll get some of my computer people on it.”

“It came to the e-mail address I use on my blog,” Anthony said. “So it wasn’t overly personal.”

June fidgeted. “Well, I should let you guys get back to what you were doing. I just saw you in here and wanted to say I’m sorry, Anthony, and thank you.”

Anthony nodded. “I hope we all get what we want out of this.”

She waved at Sam. “I’ll go hang out with your friends.”

“Tell Cindy to break out the liquor. I think they could all use a drink. It’s going to be a long night.”