Ricochet Through Time (Echo Trilogy Book 3) (27 page)

“Shit . . .” Garrett rubbed his hand through his unkempt blue hair, making it stand on end. “Kat . . . I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

“Yeah, um . . . that’s actually sort of why I’m here.” I looked at him, looked away, back at him, then away again, unable to maintain eye contact for more than a couple seconds. “She was murdered, and I was hoping . . .” I was terrified he would refuse to help me. I didn’t have anyone else to go to, not anyone with skills like his, and I
needed
to find the Kin. I owed them pain, with interest.

Was I obsessed? Maybe. Did I care? Not a bit.

“Seriously, Kat, whatever you need, I’ll totally do it.” He crossed the room to stand in front of me, placing his hands on either side of my shoulders and ducking his head so his face was at the same height as mine. “What can I do? How can I help?”

“Well . . .” I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth. “There’s someone I need to find. Someone who was involved in what happened, and I want to track her down.” I raised my eyes, finally meeting his for more than a few seconds.

“So this is like a vengeance thing?” Garrett’s bright blue eyes lit up. “Awesome.”

31

Kat & Mouse

“Oh, yeah . . .” Garrett spun his chair and rolled one desk over. His nimble fingers typed away at a second keyboard, and he occasionally reached up to swipe something left or right or up or down or off the screen entirely with the tip of his finger. “I see you. Tricky, tricky . . .”

“What is it? What did you find?” I’d been standing at the broad window for the past half hour, zoning out while I stared down at the first-floor terrace. Or maybe
zenning
out—what used to be a basketball court had been converted into some sort of a giant Zen garden. Nik lounged in a chair nearby, his boots propped up on a low windowsill.

I rushed over to Garret’s complex multisystem interface and gripped the back of his chair. “What did you find?” I repeated, the tips of my fingers digging into the chair’s padding.

Garret glanced at me over his shoulder, a grin stretching across his entire face. “A report from the border—the Canadian border. The border guard turned away someone that sounds like your girl . . . about five three, slim, of Asian descent, and extremely hostile.”

He rolled back to the first computer, and I had no choice but to release his chair. “Apparently, she threatened the guard with a black sword that she produced out of nowhere—‘out of thin air,’ the report says—and managed to avoid detainment. But . . .” He glanced at me one more time, his eyes bright and his cheeks flushed. “Before all that, when she thought she’d be able to get through, our violent little magician friend presented her driver’s license to the guard.”

He turned his chair all the way around and leaned forward, hands clutching his knees. “The name on the license was Mari Smith, and I have a social.” He turned back around and reached for the mouse. “And a photo.”

On the monitor, a window opened displaying a Washington State driver’s license for one Mari Smith. I’d never actually seen a picture of Mari, but this woman on the screen—Asian, pretty, vibrant green eyes—she looked exactly how I pictured her in my mind, and there was no question that she was a Nejerette. No question all.

“It’s her,” I said, turning to exchange a look with Nik. “It has to be.”

Still grinning, Garrett nodded. “All right. Time to track her down . . .”

***

There wasn’t much besides computer equipment in Garrett’s lair. Nik and I waited at the only table not completely covered in priceless or irreplaceable tech stuff. I sat, watching Garrett type away—scrolling here or there, switching from monitor to monitor—and did my best to ignore the fact that Nik was staring at me from the other side of the table. I’m not known for my patience.

“What?” I asked, giving Nik a pointed look.

Frowning, he shook his head.

“Oh, come on,” I said, annoyed. “You’re the one staring at me . . .”

Frown still in place, he shrugged. “The black sword—I think it’s safe to say she can control anti-At. Sure you still want to start with her?”

I leaned forward. “We agreed that was the best plan.”

“Before we knew what she could do.”

“We’re sticking to the plan,” I told him.

“Fine.” Nik looked at me for a moment longer; then his focus shifted to Garrett before sliding to the window. “But you should know your suicidal is showing.”

I huffed out a breath and crossed my arms over my chest, glaring at Nik’s profile. Gritting my teeth, I forced myself to look away from him, to hold my tongue, to not throw something at him. I returned to watching Garrett, preferring the distraction of his whirring, buzzing, whizzing, and rolling.

“This should do it,” Garrett said, more to himself than to us. “Yeah . . . this’ll work nicely. Come to daddy . . .”

I met Nik’s eyes for a moment, reading judgment and ridicule, then stood once more and crossed the room to stand behind Garrett. “Did you find something?”

“Think so. There’s a cell phone linked to a credit card registered to her social.” He opened a new window on the screen, a black background with neon green letters. “I, uh . . . developed a program—well, I’ve been
working
on developing a program, and this’ll technically be the first time I use it for more than just, uh . . . tests.”

Nik made a noise of derision, but Garrett didn’t even notice.

“Next time the phone is used, even if it’s just for a text message or to check email, I should be able to get a lock on its location.”

“Just because the phone’s linked to her doesn’t mean she’s the one using it,” Nik said from across the room.

“Well, yeah, but this is better than nothing.” Garrett gave me a look that said
I can’t believe you’re related to that guy
clearer than words ever could. “So long as the line is still active, this could give you a solid lead.”

I gave his shoulder a squeeze. “Thanks, Garrett, really. This is way more than I had to start out with. Couldn’t have done it without you.”

Garrett rubbed his hand over his blue hair. “Anything for you, Kat.”

***

After fifteen or twenty minutes of waiting with no ping from Garrett’s little high-tech piece of art, I was getting pretty antsy.

“I really wouldn’t worry too much about it, guys,” Garrett said, still tapping away on his keyboard, doing his own form of hunting. “Some people don’t check their phones every few minutes. Some people go hours without it.”

I looked from him to Nik, and we both shrugged.

A phone rang, and I jumped. I think we all jumped. I scanned around the room searching for the noisemaker. It rang again.

Garrett hopped out of his chair, standing for the first time in an hour or two, and jogged to the door. I hadn’t been able to see it before, but nestled between two shelves of an industrial metal shelving unit, an old landline telephone was anchored to the wall. “Exciting,” Garrett sang. “I almost never get calls on this line.”

“Should we be concerned?” Nik asked, his voice even. I looked at him, noting his stiff posture.

“No, no, it’s probably just Jane, the receptionist. She mans the phones down in the lobby. If a potential client calls in looking for someone with one of our particular talents, she’ll redirect them to the appropriate studio.” He shot a quick glance back at us. “It happens every month or two. Could be a new client . . .” He picked up the phone. “Howdy. Garrett ‘the Gadget Man’ Green, here. What can I do you for?”

I watched him, listening hard. My enhanced Nejerette hearing wasn’t strong enough to pick up on the other side of the conversation. I could hear the other person’s voice, barely, and certainly not well enough to make out what they were saying.

I glanced at Nik, eyebrows raised. He shook his head. He couldn’t hear them either. Which meant whoever it was had to be speaking very quietly.

We both watched Garrett as he said
hello
s and
okay
s and
got-it
s.

“No,” Garrett said. “No, I’m not alone.”

Nik and I exchanged another glance.

“Katarina Dubois and, um . . . her cousin?”

I straightened in my chair, senses on high alert. Across from me, Nik stood very slowly.

“Garrett . . . ?”

He held out a hand, one finger up. Hang on. He scrambled for something on the bookshelf, then searched through all of his pants pockets before finding a pen in his front left pocket. “Yeah, okay. I’m ready.”

Nik started around the table, craning his neck to get a better view of whatever Garrett was writing down.

“Can you see?” I whispered.

Nik shook his head.

“Uh-huh,” Garrett said. “Yeah, got it. Which one?” He was quiet for a moment, the other voice humming in the background, just out of ear’s reach. “Oh, right—that one. Okay, and then where?” Again, he was quiet for a long moment, listening and writing. “Really?” His pen stopped. “Are—are you sure I have to do that?”

I stood, getting a really bad feeling. “Garrett?”

He glanced at me, and shook his head. “Alright. I’ll do it.”

He hung up, then turned to face us, holding out what appeared to be a grease-spotted napkin covered in writing. “I have to relay a message to you.” His voice sounded off, somehow. Calm, but just . . . off. “The guy on the phone—he knows what we’re up to.”

“Who was on the phone?” Nik asked, slowly making his way toward Garrett. Almost stalking him.

“Dunno,” Garrett said, heading my way. “But he knows where your girl is.” Garrett passed Nik, just out of arm’s reach, and when he reached me, he handed me the napkin. “That’s her location. Apparently she’s hiding out in one of the tent cities.”

I looked down at the napkin, mouth hanging open. “How . . . ?” I raised my eyes to meet Garrett’s. His were wild, frantic.

“I don’t want to . . .” His voice was strained. He lifted a shaking hand, reaching for me, but I leaned away. “He said I have to . . .” Sweat was beading on his forehead and dripping down the sides of his face. “I can’t
not
do it.”

“Garrett, what’s wrong?”

He took a step backward, then to the side. “He said this is a warning. Stop looking for them. They’re giving you Mari—a trade.”

“A trade for
what
?”

“Blood for blood.” Without warning, he leaned forward and broke into a dead sprint straight for the window.

Glass smashed and wood splintered. Garrett’s yell as he fell was the most horrible thing I’d ever heard in my entire life.

Until his body hit the Zen garden two stories below.

I stumbled to the broken window, hand over my gaping mouth, holding in a scream.

“We should go,” Nik said from beside me.

I stared down at Garrett’s broken body. His legs and arms didn’t look right anymore; they were bent at odd angles. A pool of blood slowly seeped out all around him. And yet his bright blue hair was still the same, dazzling against the bland sand.

“Kat!” Nik tugged on my arm.

Blinking, I looked at him, not understanding what just happened.

“We have to go. Now!”

I stood at the door to the shop, pulling and pushing and not understanding why it wouldn’t open. I just wanted to get inside. Away from the world.

“I’ll get it,” Nik said, shouldering me out of the way. A moment later, he opened the door and I stumbled into the familiar space, only to be greeted by a tidal wave of emotions. It was like walking through that doorway, that in-between, had shattered the numbness of shock, and reality crashed over me. Surrounded by the familiar, I couldn’t ignore the horrifying memory any longer.

Garrett . . .

“Oh God . . .” Clutching my chest with both hands, I bent double, gasping for breath and sobbing and really close to throwing up. “Oh God . . .” I sucked in air, but it didn’t seem to do me any good. My chest felt too tight, not giving my lungs the room to expand.

Nik touched my shoulder. “Kat?”

I flung his hand off and shied away, knocking into a display table and sending candles and crystals toppling. “Don’t touch me!” I hugged my middle, my arms the only things holding me together. I was poison—first my mom, and now Garrett. I didn’t want to infect Nik, too. “Don’t touch me,” I repeated hoarsely.

I hated that Nik was always the one who was there when I broke down. He always bore witness to the moments when the universe proved it enjoyed nothing more than fucking with me.

“Don’t touch me . . .” I inhaled in more of that useless air. Each breath suffocated me. “Oh God . . .”

I flinched when Nik’s hand landed gently on my upper arm, but I didn’t brush him off this time. With a sob, I flung myself at him, gripping the front of his leather jacket so hard that some of my nails bent backwards. “He’s—he’s dead.” I stared up at Nik, feeling like I was floating. “He’s dead because of . . . because of me.” The guilt was back, drowning me.

“Kitty Kat . . .” Nik wrapped his arms around me and placed a hand on the back of my head, pressing it against his shoulder. He stroked my hair and rubbed my back and just held me.

I cried against his shoulder, a soggy, sobbing mess. I kept trying to speak, but every time I tried, the words would get caught in my chest and a new wave of guilt, sorrow, and regret would pour out of my mouth instead.

First my mom, now Garrett—they were both dead, because of me. How was I supposed to live with that knowledge? How was I supposed to go on?

One word—revenge.

It’s in moments like this that the hunger for vengeance is a beautiful thing. And I was suddenly starving.

After some time, when the more violent sobbing gave way to silent tears, Nik put his hands on either side of my face and tilted my head back. He brushed the tears from under my eyes with his thumbs. It did little but clear the way for new tears.

“I—I killed him.”

“No, Kat.” Nik shook his head ever so slowly. “
They
did. You know the Kin have the power to do this kind of thing.”

“But—”

He leaned in and planted the gentlest of kisses against my lips. “No, Kitty Kat. You didn’t kill anyone today.”

He kissed me again, and it was like I could take a full breath for the first time in an hour. My chest relaxed, and I inhaled fully. His lips touched mine for the third time, and I melted into him, grateful for this unique brand of comfort that only Nik could give me. When his lips were touching mine, the only thought in my mind was that I wanted more.

“No!” Gripping my shoulders, Nik shoved me away.

I fell backward against a display table.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” He turned away from me, his back hunched, his head bowed, and his fists clenched at his sides. “If you ever try anything like that again, I swear I’ll—”

“But—” I stared at him, fingers on my lips and eyes wide, head shaking. “But you—
you
kissed me.”

He swung his head around to glare at me, fury burning in his moonstone eyes. Re was in charge. “I wasn’t talking to—” He turned away from me. “Oh, never mind.”

“I didn’t—” My cheeks burned with mortification, with anger. I reached for the closest thing, an amethyst geode chunk about the size of a baseball. “Get out,” I said, holding the geode up, threatening to throw it at him.

He looked at me like he didn’t even know me. But then, considering that it was Re staring out through Nik’s eyes, maybe he didn’t. His irises faded back to blue, and I waited for some sort of an apology, or at least an explanation. None came.

“Get out!” To emphasize how much I meant it, I threw the geode. It smashed into the bookcase behind him, shattering bottles of essential oils. Shards of glass and fragrant liquid sprayed everywhere. “Get out, Nik!” I shouted, voice breaking at the end. I picked up a candle and threw it at him, chest heaving. “Don’t you
ever
come near me again.” I threw another candle.

He ducked out of the way.

“Get out.” I picked up a geode, a bigger one this time. “Now.” I raised the geode to throw.

Without a word, Nik turned and left the shop. Without even a backward glance.

“I don’t need you,” I said when he was gone. I fingered the napkin with the directions to Mari’s hideout, safely stowed in my coat pocket. “I’ll do it on my own.” It was what I’d always wanted anyway.