The Sorcerer Heir (Heir Chronicles) (15 page)

K
enzie worked harder at being asleep than anyone Jonah had ever seen—twitching, moaning, twisting his bedsheets into knots. His breathing was wet and irregular. He couldn’t be getting much rest.

Worse, even in sleep, Jonah could feel Kenzie’s pain, a white-hot burning that left him faintly nauseous. It made it hard for him to be in the same room with his brother.

Still, it wasn’t easy to wake him up. Jonah felt bad about doing it, but he had to have this conversation sooner rather than later.

“Kenzie?” he said softly. And then,
“Kenzie!”

Finally, he reached out and shook him.

Kenzie grimaced, and his bluish eyelids twitched. “Is there something about my being asleep that’s annoying to you?” he said without opening his eyes.

“I’ve got a present for you from Brendan Wu.”

Kenzie frowned. “Dead Brendan Wu?”

“Undead Brendan Wu,” Jonah said.

Kenzie finally opened his eyes. “You saw him?”

Jonah nodded.

Kenzie’s pain-dulled eyes showed a spark of interest. His hands moved restlessly on his coverlet. “Recently?”

“He seems to be Lilith’s right-hand person.” He extended the bottle toward Kenzie. “He wanted you to have this.”

Kenzie eyed the bottle suspiciously. “What the hell is that? Looks like a beet-juice milk shake in a genie bottle.”

“It’s just—it’s something that might be worth trying.”

“Stipulated, Counselor.” Kenzie squinted at the bottle in Jonah’s hand. “But if you want me to drink it, you’re going to have to tell me what it is.”

“It’s blood magic,” Jonah said, meeting Kenzie’s gaze directly.

Kenzie’s eyes widened fractionally. “You mean, like—like—”

“Yes,” Jonah said. “Like what shades are using to preserve their borrowed bodies.”

“The stuff that’s released when the gifted are murdered.”

“Yes.”

“And the idea is that it might work on me.”

“That’s the idea, yes.”

“But I’m not dead yet.”

“No.”

“In other words, why wait for me to die to try and bring me back to life?”

“Basically.”

Kenzie closed his eyes. “No. Not interested.”

“Kenzie.”

“You don’t even know what that shit is. It might turn me into a lizard.”

“I already tried it on myself,” Jonah said. “It was...” He blew out a quick breath. “I think it might really help.”

“That’s messed up, Jonah, and you know it. You are not my taster. Keep taking risks, and we can have a double funeral. Together in life, together forever in death.” Kenzie opened his eyes. “I want my own grave. Not sharing.”

“Please, Kenzie.”

Kenzie said nothing, just rolled onto his side, his back to Jonah, and pretended to snore.

Jonah spoke to Kenzie’s back. “Look, I know we’re on shaky moral ground, here, but throwing it out isn’t going to bring anyone back to life. We might as well use it.”

For what seemed like forever, Kenzie didn’t say anything at all. Then he rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. “Don’t you get it? What if it works? What then?”

Jonah wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say. “We...celebrate?”

“Sooner or later, we’ll need more. How do you intend to go about getting it? Have you ever heard the term
slippery slope
?”

“Let me worry about that.”

“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t worry about.”

“Don’t you get it?” Jonah grabbed a fistful of Kenzie’s T-shirt. “I’m trying to save you.”

“You’re the one who doesn’t get it,” Kenzie said. “This time,
I’m
trying to save
you
. Has it occurred to you that this”—he pointed at the bottle—“that this is a trap Lilith and Brendan have laid for you? What was it Brendan wanted you to do on the bridge? He wanted you to help him kill gifted preschoolers in order to extract blood magic.”

“If you’re trying to save my soul, you’re a little late,” Jonah said. “I’m an assassin. I’ve lost count of the kills I’ve made, and most of those shades were innocent. I destroy everything I touch. There’s nothing here, Kenzie, nothing worth saving.”

Kenzie’s cheeks were wet. “I disagree,” he whispered, swallowing hard, grinding the heels of his hands against his face.

“At least
some
wizards and
some
mainliners are guilty,” Jonah said. “The only part of me that’s worth saving is the part that loves you. Please, Kenzie, let me buy some time at least. That’s all I ask. I’m going to meet with Lilith and see if there’s—if there’s anything we’ve overlooked. I wish I could let you go, but I just...can’t. Not when everything else is going to hell.” It took everything Jonah had to keep from smacking his brother down with persuasion and pouring the potion down his throat.

Kenzie shuddered, as if watching his brother beg made him uncomfortable. “What if I drink this and keel over dead? What then?”

I’ll kill Brendan Wu, Jonah thought. What he said was, “At least you’ll be out of your misery. It’s pretty hard to take, tell you the truth.”

“Give it here, then.” Kenzie stuck out his hand, but it trembled so badly that Jonah didn’t want to risk his spilling it. Plus it was entirely possible that Kenzie would dump it out on purpose to end the argument.

“Here,” Jonah said. “Let me help.” Pulling the stopper from the bottle, he closed Kenzie’s hands around it, his own guiding the bottle to Kenzie’s lips. Kenzie tilted his head back and drank, throat jumping, continuing until the bottle was empty. He even licked the residue off his lips.

Jonah set the bottle on the side table. It retained a pearly luminescence.

“Well?” Jonah watched his brother warily for any signs of a reaction. “What do you think?”

Kenzie ran his tongue over his teeth. “Flamboyant yet unctuous, a bit chewy yet flabby, with notes of oak and old cigar boxes.” He paused. “Distinct aftertaste of barnyard, yet still callipygian.”

“What?”

“Nose reminds me of kerosene and charcoal.” Kenzie shrugged. “Maybe it needs to be cellared a little longer.”

“I mean, how do you
feel
?” Jonah said, weak with relief. “Any different? Better or worse?”

“It’s kind of like that time I got into the brandy,” Kenzie said. “My insides are on fire, but somehow I have this incredible sense of well-being. Like I could do anything—anything at all I set my mind to.” He grimaced. “I hope this doesn’t come with a hangover, too.”

“The pain is gone,” Jonah murmured, as if voicing it might bring it roaring back.

Kenzie’s attention turned inward. “You’re right,” he said, wonder in his voice. “How about that.” He extended his hands, and the tremor had nearly disappeared. “Harry,” he said. “Display vitals.”

Kenzie’s data came up. They weren’t anywhere close to normal, but his blood pressure had increased almost to standard, and his pulse rate had slowed and strengthened.

“So far, so good,” Kenzie said. He raised his hands, patted around on the top of his head, connecting on the first try. “No horns either.”

Jonah smiled. “Not yet, anyway,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. Kenzie’s eyes seemed clearer than before—maybe it was just the absence of pain. Whatever. Jonah would take it.

Kenzie relaxed back against his pillows, eyes closed, his body still for the first time in a long time. Jonah looked him over carefully. He’d thought that the flaming seizures might return as soon as his brother had a little more juice to work with. But that didn’t seem to be the case. He wished he could ask Natalie about it. But this would have to be a secret between the Kinlock brothers.

“If you’re going to stay here,” Kenzie said, “make yourself useful.”

“I’m sure you have a suggestion,” Jonah said.

“Order us a large deluxe pizza from Fourth Street Pies,” Kenzie said. “My treat.”

“Why? You hungry?” Jonah asked, another spark of hope kindling inside him.

“Ravenous,” Kenzie said. “And get me something cold to drink from the fridge so I can wash this taste away.”

Drunk with relief, Jonah obliged. Maybe it was wrong, maybe it was a slippery slope, but he had bought a little time. And tomorrow—maybe tomorrow was the day he’d finally get to meet up with Lilith and get the answers he needed.

“
R
udy and I are going out to Homebrew tonight,” Natalie said. “Ghastly is opening for Dreamboat. Want to come?”

Jonah looked up from his laptop. “No, thanks. I’m kind of in the middle of something.”

“It’s Wednesday night,” Natalie persisted. “It’s almost the weekend. And you don’t have to work on the weekend.”

“I didn’t say I was working; I said I was in the middle of something. Maybe I’ll come out later.”

“Alison is meeting us there,” Natalie said. “And Charlie and Mike and Thérèse might stop by.”

Jonah knew exactly why they would be there. They’d come packing shivs, hoping that if Jonah was out and about, Lilith or Brendan might make contact.

“Sounds like you’ve got a full table already,” he said.

“You’re turning back into a hermit,” Rudy said.

“I’ve been a hermit all along,” Jonah said. “It’s my natural state. I’ve got some new songs I want to have ready by tomorrow. And I want to hash a few things out with Kenzie.”

Natalie and Rudy exchanged a meaningful look.

Jonah was not a fan of meaningful looks. He’d been getting a lot of them since Natalie’s in-person evaluation of Kenzie. There’d been no more talk of moving him to Safe Passage, but Jonah knew it was just a matter of time before it came up again. Depending on how long the effects of the blood magic lasted.

“Kenzie goes to bed early these days,” Natalie said softly. “Don’t keep him up too late.”

“It’s Wednesday night, Nat,” Jonah said, returning to his screen. “Almost the weekend. Nobody goes to bed early on Wednesday night. Anyway, I saw him last night, and I thought he looked much better. If he’s in bed, I’ll just hang out with him.”

He waited a good half hour after they left, to make sure they weren’t still lurking about, hoping to change his mind or put a tail on him. He stowed his notebook in his room, pulled on his jacket, then slipped out the back door of Oxbow, taking the crooked stairs that snaked all the way down the hill to the Flats. He carried no weapons save his own hands. If he was going to draw Lilith out of hiding, he’d have to go without an escort. If he was going to save his brother’s life, he needed to take a few risks.

Fortunately, the wind from the northwest brought with it the icy bite that suggested snow before morning. The only people who’d be out on the streets tonight would be those with an agenda. He walked down to the park, to the fountain at the river’s edge, and sat.

The wind ruffled his hair, and sent cold fingers down his neck. A freighter churned under the Shoreway and into the river proper. Its passage sent waves slapping against the shoreline wall. A bell clanged as the Center Street swing bridge responded to the oncoming ship.

Come here often?

Startled, Jonah looked up to see that a woman had joined him on the fountain bench. A woman in a flesh and blood body who looked to be not much older than Jonah.

“Often enough,” Jonah said, drawing in a breath, testing the air. Nothing.

The woman watched him, amused.
Not the way to make new friends, Jonah,
she said, speaking mind-to-mind.
Sniffing at them like a dog. You could at least be subtle about it.

“I’m not here to make friends,” Jonah said. “You seem to know who I am. That means you have the advantage over me.”

I’m Lilith Greaves,
she said simply.
It’s good to finally meet you in person.
She made a show of scanning their surroundings.
For once, it seems, you didn’t bring your bodyguards.

“They aren’t my idea,” Jonah said. “I’d guess you’d say it’s more of a posse.”

He studied her. She wore blue jeans, a hoodie, and sneakers, which somehow made her look less threatening. She was tall, slight of build, with flaking purple nail polish on her bitten-off nails, and short, spiky hair the color of butterscotch.

This tells me nothing, Jonah reminded himself. Still, it was hard to lose the human instinct to judge people by appearance. He didn’t have much else to go on, after all. He’d always found hosted shades incredibly difficult to read. Maybe because a measure of Jonah’s gift stemmed from his ability to sense and interpret the physical indicators of emotion. And Lilith’s communication with her physical body was tenuous still.

Lilith endured his scrutiny, then raked back the sleeve of her hoodie, exposing a long, ragged gash that ran from wrist to elbow. It was oddly devoid of blood.
She killed herself,
Lilith explained.

“Is that supposed to get you points?” Jonah said. “The fact you didn’t kill her?”

Lilith sighed.
You were always so charming when you were a little boy. Everybody loved you. And now you’re rude. And a murderer.

“Hard times change a person,” he said, shrugging. “At least I’m not out murdering preschoolers.”

There were preschoolers at Thorn Hill,
Lilith said.
Surely you’ve finished off a few.

“Maybe,” Jonah shot back. “It’s hard to tell when they’re hidden inside a decaying corpse.”

If I had my way, they wouldn’t have to be.

“That’s one thing we agree on, then,” Jonah said. “It’s just that I’m not willing to get there by killing mainliners.”

Are you sure, Jonah?
Lilith leaned in, trying to look him in the eye.
What if you could save someone you loved?

Jonah said nothing, just stared out at the river.

Lilith tried again.
What if you could get revenge for your mother and father and little sister?

“The people you’re targeting had nothing to do with Thorn Hill,” Jonah said. “You murdered a twelve-year-old girl at a Halloween party. How does that make you the good guys?”

Lilith shook her head.
Brendan told me about that. I asked around. It wasn’t anyone in my Nightshade army.

“You are
not
the Nightshade army,” Jonah said through gritted teeth.

That’s where you’re wrong,
Lilith said.
We are
all
the Nightshade army.
She brushed her forearm with her fingers.
You
do
have a Nightshade tattoo.

Jonah was instantly suspicious. “Why is that important?”

It verifies that you are who you say you are.

“And how, exactly, do I know that you are who you say you are? You might be Brendan tricked out in a brand-new body.”

My tattoo is long gone, along with my body,
Lilith said, kicking her sneakered feet against the stones.
Guess you’ll have to trust me.

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Jonah said. “Anyway, if all mainliners have to take the blame for Thorn Hill, then you’ll have to take the blame for the mainliner murders.”

If I’m not mistaken,
you’re
going to take the blame for the mainliner murders.

There was nothing to say to that, so Jonah didn’t even try.

I’m curious about your abilities,
Lilith said.
From what Brendan says, you’re kind of a superman. You leap tall buildings with a single bound, you have the old X-ray vision, that kind of thing. Is that true?

“Brendan wouldn’t lie to you.”

What else? Can you still read emotions?

Still?
“Why should I tell you?”

We’re trading information,
Lilith said.
Clearly, you want something from me, or you wouldn’t be here.

She did have a point. “Fine. Yes, I can read emotions. I have super-acute senses as well: hearing, sight, smell, taste. I’m unusually strong, and I have a tremendously toxic touch. So toxic I can kill someone who’s already dead. That’s everything that comes to mind at the moment.”

Lilith nodded, as if this confirmed something.

“So,” Jonah said, eager to move things along. “I hear you want to talk to me.”

I hear
you
want to talk to
me, Lilith countered.

“You wanted to talk to me first,” Jonah said.

It’s Gabriel I really need to speak with.
Lilith stared straight ahead, chin raised, her jaw set.

“So you said.”

Up to now, the only way to do that was through you. But that is changing.
She spoke with conviction.

“Is it?”

As we’re able to use bodies for longer periods, we develop more and more skill and control. More integration. With the help of blood magic, it won’t be long before I’m able to speak mind-to-mind loudly enough for anyone to hear. Even someone without your abilities.

“How many mainliners do you have to kill to get there?”

Lilith’s anger gushed over him.
The point is, I will speak with Gabriel, one way or another, whether you like it or not. It’s just easier if we have a go-between.

It took Jonah a moment to process that one. “Hang on; I’m not the problem,” he said. “I’ve already talked to Gabriel.”

Lilith leaned toward Jonah eagerly, hands on her denimed knees.
Really? You asked him? How did he react? What did he say?

“He said no.”

What?
This time, Jonah had no trouble reading her disappointment and confusion.
You’re sure you told him who it was?

“I told him it was Lilith Greaves,” Jonah said.

And he said...?

“He said he remembered someone by that name, but that you couldn’t be the same person. He said it was a hoax or a trap.”

A hoax? A trap?
Lilith stood, and paced back and forth.
Why would he think that? Why wouldn’t he want to talk to me?
She whirled around to face Jonah.
What exactly did you tell him?

“The truth,” Jonah said. “I told him about your plans to kill mainliners, and to use blood magic to help Thorn Hill survivors. Don’t you think that would be a little...off-putting?”

Lilith snorted.
To Gabriel Mandrake? You’ve got to be kidding. You really don’t know him very well, do you?

“Maybe not,” Jonah said. “But I know him a hell of a lot better than I know you.” He scrubbed both hands through his hair. “Like I said, I’m not the obstacle you think I am. At least I’m willing to listen. But maybe Gabriel’s the smart one. He knows a lot more about you—and about Thorn Hill—than I do.”

Oh, yes,
Lilith said, her voice rich with bitter amusement.
He knows a
lot
more than you do. Clearly.

“That’s why I’m here. To learn. That’s what I want from you.”

Does Gabriel know you’re here? Talking to me?

Jonah shook his head. “No. In fact, he really, really wants to prevent this. He’d rather see you dead. He has an entire team of slayers hunting you down.”

Lilith flinched, as if she’d been struck.
Including you?

Jonah shrugged, not wanting to get into it.

Did he say why?

“Not in so many words. I sort of assumed it was because he’s unhappy about the fact that you’re murdering mainliners and we’re getting the blame.”

Lilith settled back onto the bench, shedding her agitation like a worn-out coat, replacing it with calculation.
Fine. What is it you want to know? Maybe we can make a deal.

Jonah didn’t want to bring Kenzie into the conversation. He didn’t want Lilith to know just how desperate he was. “We’re all dying,” he said simply. “It’s like our bodies are mortally wounded, and we’re just killing time until we go down. I want to find a way to fix this, but I get the impression that Gabriel has given up on finding a cure. He just wants to do what he can to ease the pain while we go quietly into the night.”

Of course he’s given up on finding a cure,
Lilith said,
because he has no idea where to start.

“How could he? He wasn’t there when it happened. And everyone who was there is dead, except for us—those who were children at the time. I have to think that there’s a shade out there somewhere who knows the truth about Thorn Hill.”

Unless you’ve killed him,
Lilith said.

“Unless I’ve killed him.” Jonah flexed his hands. “That’s why I resigned as a slayer.”

You
resigned
?

Misery rose into Jonah’s throat like bile. “Well, I tried. I’m finding it’s not that easy to stay out of the business.”

Lilith hunched her shoulders.
Gabriel’s probably on the wrong track.

“You think
you’re
on the right track? Using blood magic in order to possess hosts permanently?”

I don’t have any other options,
Lilith said,
being a shade, drifting from cadaver to cadaver, having no lab to work in.

Jonah blinked at her. “Lab?”

I’m a sorcerer,
Lilith said,
or at least I was. One of the best sorcerers of my time, if I say so myself.

For some reason, that phrase rang in Jonah’s ears. Familiar. It was something Jessamine Longbranch had said about Thorn Hill:
The best sorcerers of the age flocked there, because they knew they could source any botanicals they needed without the risk of anyone coming after them in Brazil.