Firebug (19 page)

“You wish you could live on my planet,” she said. “It's only terraformed for extremely awesome alien species.”

“Yes, I do wish I could live there. Boss-man, please.”

“Fine, I'll get him. He's in the back room pouting. What did you do? He only pouts like this when you did something. Stop making him sad, Ava! I hate it when he's sad. I tried to show him pictures of kittens on the Internet, but he said that didn't work for him, so I tried to switch to otters, because c'mon,
otters
, they're like the kittens of the sea, but he just looked at me like I was a crazy person, so I showed him my list—”

“List?” Sometimes Sylvie talks so fast, there aren't any spaces between her words.

“The one where I compare kittens and otters. It's a good list. There are illustrations and infographics.”

“Sylvie. Cade, please.”

“I wouldn't talk to him if I were you,” she said in a little singsong voice. “You are in danger of being trampled like a teeny Asian person underneath the rampaging feet of Grouchasaurus rex. I should draw an illustration of that, too! Don't worry. I'll make you look good.”

“Sylvie.”

“It's your funeral,” she said, handing the phone over. In the background, I could still hear her yelling. “Remember, Grouchasaurs have poor vision and minimal turning capacity! I recommend running in a serpentine pattern!”

Cade grunted into the phone. The grunt might have been the word
hello
. I'm not sure. “I hear you're on the rampage, Bosszilla,” I said.

He grunted. “Sylvie?”

It was so good to hear his voice, I almost cried. “Yeah. I left you a message. You didn't call me back.”

“Was it on my cell? You know the cabin can be kind of a dead zone. Sometimes I get bars, sometimes I don't. Let me check.” There was a pause, and I could almost see him unearthing things from his pockets. “Ah. There it is—a message.” The phone went quiet for a moment. “I'm not going to want to listen to the message, am I?”

“Probably not.” I filled him in on the night's adventures.

Cade is not a yeller. When I mess up, he likes to take his time and think it through before he punishes me. We've been through the process many, many, many times. This might seem like a soft approach, but by the time Cade gets around to talking to me, I usually feel pretty crappy about whatever it was I'd done, and I'm also ready to listen to whatever he has to say by then. Sometimes I think it might actually be less painful if he'd just let loose and scream.

Not that I didn't yell at him sometimes, but I tried not to, and honestly it was pretty hard to get mad at Cade. His criticisms were usually well thought out and difficult to argue with. Or there were times like this, when I was so grateful to be talking to him, that I wouldn't have cared if he
was
screaming the whole time.

So I went over the night, telling him what had happened, smoothing over some of the more embarrassing points. He'd probably guess the embarrassing bits anyway. At least I knew he wouldn't interrupt me until I was finished.

“Duncan's okay?”

“As far as I know. I don't think she's ready to confront him on her own.”

The line went quiet while Cade thought over what I'd said. “Why'd you eat the appetizers? You don't eat anything at the Inferno that wasn't handed to you by Lock or Ezra.”

“Ryan made a big fuss.”

“Why?”

“I honestly can't tell you why boys do anything.”

“Then tell me why you caved.”

I thought for a moment. “I felt bad. We'd been arguing, the evening was a disaster, and he was already sensitive about Lock and Ezra. It seemed to mean a lot to him, so I ate one. Why?”

“What happened after you ate it?”

I shrugged, then realized he couldn't see that. “I got thirsty?”

“Exactly,” Cade said. “They were spicy. You drank whatever you were given next, and you were even less likely to ask questions about that because your mouth was on fire. If it tasted weird, you would just dismiss it because your sense of taste would be off.”

Cade's logic was dead on, as usual. In retrospect, I'd been incredibly stupid. I knew better than to accept food at a Coterie establishment unless it came from someone I trusted. It should have passed directly from Lock's or Ezra's hands to mine before I took a bite. I should have turned down those appetizers.

“But how would they know I was going to eat them? It's not like I ordered them.”

“But Ryan did,” Cade said. “And he guilted you into eating one. Then he handed you his drink. He took you to the Inferno in the first place and then made sure you didn't leave.”

I hadn't thought it was possible to feel worse than I already did. You'd have thought by then I'd have known I could always feel worse. “You can't be saying what I think you're saying.” My gut felt leaden, and I worried for a second that the donuts from earlier were going to make an encore performance.

“But he's human,” I said. “Normal. How would he even … why would he?”

“I'm human,” Cade said. “And yet I know all about the Coterie. How do you know he doesn't? How do you even know he's human? Do you really know that much about him besides what he's told you?”

“You think he tricked me?”

“I don't know,” Cade said, the connection crackling as he breathed into the phone. “All I know is everything is going back to him, and I don't like that one bit. Heaven is a dance club, Ava. I bet drugs are easy to come by. I don't know what was planned, or if anything was planned at all. Maybe he was trying to get back at you because of Lock and Ezra, or maybe he was acting on Venus's orders. We don't know, and I'm not sure it matters. But what would have happened if Lock hadn't gotten there first? Would Ryan have taken you to Venus as an offering? You were unconscious in a public bathroom. Anything could have happened.”

I didn't have an answer for him. I wasn't sure I wanted one.

Cade sighed. “Have you checked on your little friends today?”

I felt my blood chill. I told Cade I'd call him back, but I didn't wait for the response. The text I sent Brittany was short, just asking if they'd made it home okay. It was even polite.

The response I got was not. An image of Ryan appeared on my screen. I couldn't see his face, but I knew Ryan's back. I couldn't see his face because he was being led away by Venus, her arm around him possessively. She probably hadn't even known the picture was taken.

After the image came the text part of the message.
Ryan didn't make it home last night. Who knew he was into mature women?;) Didn't take him long to forget you, huh, homeschool? Lol.

My hands burst into flame, and I dropped my phone on the counter. I turned on the faucet by hitting the lever with my elbow, then thrust my hands under the icy-cold running water. The water hissed and steamed, but I felt better doing this than trying to clamp down on my rage. When I'd finally calmed down, I toweled off my hands and texted Brittany back.

I hope you get chlamydia. Lol.

I called Ryan's cell, and it went right to voice mail. I called his house. I'd never actually called there before.

The phone rang a few times before someone picked up. “Hello, James residence.” A lady's voice, probably his mother. Or sister. An aunt? It could be a maid for all I knew. Did they have a maid?

My pulse started doing hurdles and my palms began to sweat. “Um, hi.” I swallowed, trying to get my body to calm the fuck down. Sparks started to dance around my fingertips, and I shoved them into someone's half-drunk glass of water from last night. “Is, uh, Ryan around?”

“No,” she said. “I think he's still in Boston with his friends.” Her tone had that you-know-how-boys-can-be kind of air about it. I noticed she didn't say that he was with his girlfriend. I wasn't sure if it was comforting or upsetting that she didn't seem to know about me. Probably a little of both.

“Oh, okay. Thanks.” I hung up before she could ask who was calling. I put my phone on the table, afraid the sparks dancing around my hands might damage it. Eyes closed, I took deep breaths, pulling as much air into my lungs as I could, and tried to settle my nerves. When I finally opened my eyes again, the sparks were gone.

I filled the stove with more wood and got a blaze going, trying to burn off my energy in a constructive manner before I called Cade back and melted my phone in the process.

I'd wrapped myself in a blanket by the fire and was doing my best to not dwell when I heard a twig snap. It was a small sound, but one that put me in mind of my time with my mom, and traps we set to warn us of intruders. In my mind I saw Benny's face as he looked at the window, and I almost edged back to the broom closet. Except I was too big now. That startled me out of my memory. The hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention, and my body was on full alert. I'd spent too much time living off my gut instinct to ignore it. I bolted upstairs to wake the boys.

The good thing about being a teenage assassin? Your friends know what you mean when you wake them with one hand pressed over their mouths and a meaningful look in your eye. I pulled my hand away from Lock's face. “How many?” he mouthed. I shrugged. He poked Ezra awake and we relayed the info.

Short of Cade, no one knew me better than Lock and Ez did. Venus hadn't intended for it to happen when she'd put us together, but we'd become a well-oiled machine.

I shoved the chair back under the door as Ezra opened a window. We pulled on boots and jackets and slipped out onto the lower roof. Lock closed the window after we were all out. We sat. We listened. Of the members of the Coterie recovery team—and clearly that's what they were—only one had been left to walk the perimeter of the house. Ezra dropped to the ground and, with a muffled shout, quickly took care of that. The man's chest was rising and falling while Ez pulled him into the bushes, so I knew he'd live. Lock coaxed a root to curl and twist around our would-be assailant. It wouldn't last forever, but it would slow him down.

Once we were all off the roof, Lock and I worked in tandem to take care of the others. He encouraged some vines to wind their way over the windows while I set fire to all the exits. We didn't even have to discuss it.

I felt bad for the recovery team, I guess, and I definitely felt bad for the owners of the summer home I was burning to the ground, but not enough to actually stop. We got into Ezra's car and sped down the driveway. The fire would go out soon, and if the recovery team was smart, they would probably get out alive. I hoped they did, sort of, but I was hoping for our getaway more.

We drove aimlessly in silence, Lock turning the car this way and that, going more for confusion than distance.

“How did they find us?” I asked finally. “The car?”

“They found us yesterday, too,” Lock said. “I shrugged it off because we were still in the Inferno, but now she's found us again. One of us is bugged.”

“Then why couldn't she find us after I torched the Inferno?” I asked. “Teams were scouting and couldn't find us.”

“It was a mad house. Whoever had the tracker probably had their hands full,” Lock said.

Ezra turned in the passenger seat so he could see both of us. “Well, all my clothes are from after our little pool party, so it's not me. It's probably not the car, but I guess we should get rid of it anyway.” He sighed and ran his hand along the dash. “My poor baby.”

“All my stuff is new, except for my jacket and my shoes” Lock said. “I don't think that's it, but I can discard them if you guys are worried.” Lock's eyes met mine in the review mirror. “What about you, Aves? Any clothes the same?”

I thought on it. “My underwear, but we would have seen something if that was bugged, right? My jacket.”

“And your boots, right?” The car was silent for a moment before he asked, “Did Ryan give you anything recently? Anything you keep on your person?”

“No,” I said. “Everything is … wait.” I reached up and felt my new earrings, the shooting stars he'd given me. That he'd insisted I wear. I quickly tore them out, not looking at them as my vision blurred and I handed them to Ezra. He didn't even examine them before he threw them out the window. I began to protest, but Ez just looked at me and said, “I don't care if you want to believe he's innocent. I refuse to take the risk.”

And I got it, I did. My mouth snapped shut with a snap of teeth and we drove for an hour in silence. While my brain used logic to tell me that the boys were right, I mourned those earrings. They were the first present given to me by a boyfriend and they hadn't even made it a week.

The town we stopped in wasn't very big, but it had a small used-clothing place, which was what we needed. I had some cash sewn into the lining of my jacket, but not much, and I wasn't sure when I could get more. The Coterie would be checking our accounts. We bought backpacks and two changes of clothes, since our other clothes had to be tossed. The underwear I bought new. I just couldn't quite bring myself to put on someone's used knickers. I didn't want “Got Crabs?” to become my official motto.