The Sorcerer Heir (Heir Chronicles) (31 page)

T
he day after the meeting between Gabriel and Lilith, Gabriel called an all-hands meeting of Nightshade. Jonah slept in and went to the gym instead. Two hours later, he’d worked himself into a lather of sweat and his muscles had that familiar, wrung-out ache.

That’s when he noticed that Natalie was waiting for him down on the floor.

He dropped lightly onto the hardwood beside her. “Hey, Nat,” he said.

She radiated guilt, not meeting his eyes. “We missed you at the meeting,” she said.

Jonah slapped his forehead. “Damn! Was that this morning?” He paused, and then asked, “How’d it go?” because Natalie seemed to be expecting it.

“It was...interesting,” Natalie said. “Maybe even a little encouraging. Lilith was there.”

“Was she?” Jonah said, pretending disinterest.

“Both she and Gabriel seemed disappointed that you weren’t there.”

“Really? Did she say that, or just, you know, use hand gestures?”

“She was hard to understand, but she was audible,” Natalie said.

“You understand the cost of that, right?” Jonah said.

Natalie shifted her weight from foot to foot. “She let Gabriel do most of the talking.”

“Gabriel does like to talk.” Jonah toweled off. “What did he say?”

“He issued new ground rules for Nightshade. The field operatives are not to harm any shades, hosted or not. In return, shades are not to kill any more gifted here in Ohio.”

“Terrific,” Jonah said. “How was that received?”

“There were a lot of questions. I think most of us would like to give it a chance.”

“What did Alison say?”

That was a direct hit, Jonah could tell.

“She...um...had reservations.”

“The shades were on board, too?” Jonah cocked his head.

Natalie flushed. “There weren’t any shades there.”

“Ah. I see.” Jonah slung his towel around his neck. “A cease-fire only works if both sides agree.”

“Lilith is going to meet with them separately.”

“Lilith controls only a handful of shades,” Jonah said. “Otherwise, it’s the Wild West out there.” He paused. “What happens when she runs out of blood magic?”

“Lilith has a limited supply on hand. And there are some other therapies she’d like to try, based on her research.”

“That’s going to take a while,” Jonah said, “and I don’t think we have a while.”

“We have to
try
, Jonah,” Natalie said, tears pooling in her eyes. “I mean, what’s the alternative?”

Jonah felt a twinge of guilt. It wasn’t like he had one to offer. “So what’s the plan?”

“We’re going to begin a process of reconciliation,” Natalie said.

“That’s hard to do when you can’t communicate.”

“Gabriel is hoping that you will help with that.”

Jonah just looked at her, his lips pressed tightly together.

“Well. Anyway. I thought you might want to know what went down,” Natalie said, turning away.

“Thanks, Nat,” Jonah called after her. “Thanks for filling me in. I hope this all works out.”

After his shower, Jonah found himself walking to the Steel Wool Building for the second day in a row. He’d stopped in the night before and briefed Kenzie on what had gone down at the meeting between Gabriel and Lilith. Kenzie seemed to follow what Jonah was saying—he asked a couple of questions, but otherwise it seemed that staying alive consumed all of his strength and attention.

Stay with me, Kenzie, Jonah thought. I could really use your advice right now. Kenzie had a way of cutting through the bullshit. Maybe continually dancing on the knife’s-edge of death did that to a person.

Jonah beat down the thought that if he could get his hands on more blood magic, he could restore Kenzie’s health enough that they could leave the Anchorage together.

The streets seemed oddly deserted. He’d thought he might run into some Nightshade operatives who could tell him what had gone down at the meeting. He saw a few of the civilian students amid the usual pedestrians. Nobody from Nightshade.

But when Jonah reached Kenzie’s room, the door was locked. Jonah pounded on the door. No answer. He called Kenzie’s phone. It went to voice mail. He checked the time again. It was only six
P.M.
He might be asleep, but...

He keyed in the access code to the tablet outside Kenzie’s room. It came up
VACANT
. A cold finger of fear ran down Jonah’s spine. A voice shouted inside his head.
Too late!

He turned, and charged down the hallway to the nurse’s station. Todd Doherty, the evening shift nurse, had his head down, keying notes into a chart. He looked up at Jonah, and his face turned the color of library paste. “Jonah! It’s good to—”

“Where is Kenzie? Why didn’t anyone tell me he’s been moved?”

“He’s safe and comfortable, don’t worry.” Todd stared at Jonah’s gloved hands.

“I’m
so
glad he’s safe and comfortable; now tell me where he is,” Jonah said, forcing the words between stiff lips.

“I can’t,” Todd said.

Jonah knew Todd, he liked Todd, but just now it was all he could do not to lunge across the desk between them and close his hands around Todd’s throat. Instead, he said, “You can’t? Because...”

“I can’t because I don’t know where he is.”

“Really? How is it possible that you don’t know?” Jonah said, his voice low and deadly.

Todd swallowed hard. “Mr. Mandrake said that if you had any questions you should come see him.”

“Did he now?” Jonah leaned closer.

Todd scooted his chair back until it hit the wall, raising both hands to fend Jonah off. “Mr. Mandrake is in his office.”

“Thank you,” Jonah said on his way out the door.

“I’m so sorry, Jonah,” Todd called after him.

Before heading to the Keep, Jonah made a quick detour around the back of Steel Wool to the back entrance—the entrance to Safe Passage. Jadine, the duty nurse, jumped when Jonah burst through the door.

“Jonah!” she said, coming quickly to her feet. “What brings you here? We don’t have any residents right now....”

Jonah didn’t answer, but quickly circled the nurse’s station, looking into every room, opening every closed door. All were empty of patients.

“Is there something I should know about?” Jadine asked.

“Have you seen Kenzie?” Jonah demanded.

Jadine shook her head. “Kenzie? No, I haven’t seen him.” Her face clouded with worry. “Why—were you thinking he’d been transferred here?” she asked gently.

“Thanks, Jadine,” Jonah said, and slammed out of the door.

Jonah knew that Gabriel would have had plenty of advance warning that he was on his way over. Briefly, he debated whether it was wise to come in the front door. His instincts told him to be wary of a trap. And yet he tried to tell himself that this was Gabriel. He’d been looking out for Kenzie for years. He’d probably made the decision to move Kenzie to Safe Passage in an undisclosed location. Jonah would just have to find a way to make him understand that it was the wrong thing to do. That Kenzie wasn’t ready to go there.

He was good at persuasion, right? Only just now he was not in a persuasive mood.

The alley door yielded to his entry code, and Jonah loped up the stairs and through the second security gauntlet. The outer office, where Patrick Murphy generally stood guard, was empty. Jonah gingerly tried the door to Gabriel’s office. It was unlocked. Jonah listened. This office was occupied—at least two people were inside.

Turning the handle, Jonah nudged the door open with his foot, ready to leap aside in the event of attack. None came. Jonah edged around the door frame and into the office.

Gabriel stood behind his desk, clearly waiting for him. Lilith perched on the edge of his desk. Jonah was surprised to find her occupying the same body, the one Gabriel had nearly decapitated at the old B&O Terminal. It appeared to be all healed up—Lilith practically glowed with health.

Clearly, she’d been dosed up with blood magic. Jonah couldn’t help wondering who had died to put those roses in her cheeks.

“Hello, Jonah,” Gabriel said.

“Gabriel.” Jonah looked from Gabriel to Lilith.

“We missed you at the meeting this morning,” Gabriel said, running a hand over his close-cropped hair.

“I couldn’t be there,” Jonah said, forcing a neutral tone.

“I hope we’re not going to be at odds from here on in,” Gabriel said.

“Actually, I was busy looking for my brother. He seems to have disappeared. Any idea where he might be?”

Gabriel and Lilith looked at each other. Gabriel gave a little headshake.

“Is he dead?” Jonah’s voice rose. “Is that what you don’t want me to know?”

Kenzie’s fine, Jonah,
Lilith said in a reasonably clear voice.
He’s responding to therapy really well, in fact.

“What do you mean by that?” Jonah asked, though he thought he knew.

It’s amazing what a little blood magic will do,
Lilith said.
But then, you know that already, don’t you?

Jonah leveled his gaze at her. “I’m glad to hear that he’s doing well,” he said carefully. “I’d like to see for myself.”

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” Gabriel said.

“Because...?”

“Because you’ve made your position clear—that you disapprove of our collaboration with the undead survivors of Thorn Hill.”

Jonah saw where this was going, but he wanted to hear it plainly. “What’s that got to do with Kenzie?”

“We need to make sure that you don’t do anything to sabotage our plans,” Gabriel said.

“What plans?”

A plan to save all of the Thorn Hill survivors, living and dead,
Lilith said.

“Except, I assume, for the shades we’ve riffed on Gabriel’s orders,” Jonah said.

Except for them,
Lilith said.
Unfortunately.

“But in order to make that happen, we’re going to have to work together,” Gabriel said. “All of us. Including you.”

“Sounds fantastic,” Jonah said. “Why would I sabotage a plan like that?”

“Why indeed?” Gabriel said.

“Then why are you holding Kenzie hostage?”

“
Hostage
is such a loaded word,” Gabriel said. “We have his best interests at heart. We want to assure his survival until we’re in a position to offer curative therapy.”

“You think I don’t want that?” Jonah said through gritted teeth. “Now, are you going to tell me where he is, or do I have to take this place apart brick by brick?”

“I am
not
going to tell you where he is, and you are
not
going to get your way by threatening me or the institution that has taken care of you and your brother for ten years,” Gabriel said. “That continues to care for all of the survivors of the Thorn Hill disaster.”

“Says the man who poisoned us in the first place.”

Gabriel did
not
poison you,
Lilith said.
Nor did I.

“What are you planning to do?”

“We’ll go over the plan in detail when the time comes,” Gabriel said. “When you need to know it.”

“I thought we were all working together,” Jonah said, his voice dripping with derision. “Guess not.”

Gabriel leaned forward, planting his hands on his desk, his voice steely. “I am doing what I believe to be in the best interests of the survivors of Thorn Hill. As I always have done. There was a time that you believed that, and I hope we can get back there again.”

“How do I know that Kenzie is still alive?” Jonah said.

What are you so worried about?
Lilith said.
Kenzie is immortal, just like the rest of us.

Gabriel shot Lilith a warning look, then turned back to Jonah. “Jonah, if you can demonstrate that you’ve regained your senses, perhaps we’ll allow you to see your brother. I think you’ll be pleased with his progress.”

Jonah took a deep breath, released it. Let go of his rage, replacing it with cold calculation. He had to play it smart. And he would. If they were telling the truth, and Kenzie was alive and improving, his brother would find a way to get in touch. If they weren’t telling the truth, well, he’d deal with that, too. Storming out and slamming doors might be satisfying in the short run, but in the long run it wouldn’t get him where he needed to go. Best not to burn bridges until he managed to drag his brother to the other side.

How far would he go to save his brother? As far as he needed to go.

“All right,” Jonah said, with a stiff nod. “Let me know what you need me to do.”

M
aybe the weather gods had decided that Emma shouldn’t ever get to Memphis. They’d stuck a big winter storm in her way, one of those that come up out of the south and ambush you. It was snow all the way to Cincinnati, and then ice through Kentucky. Though the Element was all-wheel drive, Emma guessed that the tires were almost as old as she was. She passed this big billboard along the highway that said, in black letters on stark white,
ARE YOU READY TO MEET GOD
?

Not quite yet, Emma thought. Not until I figure out a few things.

So she waited out the storm at a truck stop off I-65 that must have been near Mammoth Cave because there were brochures and posters all around, trying to get her to go there. Right now, a cave sounded sort of appealing. After she crossed into Tennessee, it turned to all rain, which she was at least used to. After that, she made good time.

Hopefully, they’d think she was too smart to go to Memphis. With any luck, she could check out the clue her father had left for her and get out of town before anybody caught up to her.

Emma parked in the central library parking lot. It was a hike from Beale Street, but between the library, the McDonald’s, and the shopping center, she figured there was enough parking that she could sleep in the SUV if she had to without being noticed. Plus clean up in the library and use the computers there.

When she searched on the computers in the library, she found that Beasley was in middle-of-nowhere Tennessee. Almost in Mississippi. Was this a wild goose chase or what?

She took the bus down Poplar to Mickey’s so nobody would spot the truck on her old stomping ground. It was peculiar to be walking in a place that was so familiar and now so different through her eyes. So much had changed since that night she found her grandfather dying on the shop floor.

People were bundled up like it was freezing, but after a half year in Cleveland it didn’t feel so bad. Up north, the cold wrung all the life from the air, so it was harsh and tasteless. Here, the air was a thick brew, warm and rich with the scents that meant home.

It was mid-morning, before the lunchtime rush, but Emma knew that people were in and out of Mickey’s all day long. Chances were high she might run into somebody she knew.

So she walked around the back and into the alley that ran behind the bar. Upending an old pickle bucket, she sat. She knew it wouldn’t be long before Mickey came out here for a smoke. He always liked to get one in before he had to work lunch.

Maybe ten minutes later, the back door slammed open and Mickey shuffled out, already thumbing his lighter.

“Hey, Mickey,” Emma said.

Mickey jumped and spun around. The lighter clattered onto the bricks. “Emma!” He stared at her as if he’d seen a ghost. “My God, girl, where’d you come from?”

“I just got back to town,” Emma said.

“Why’d you disappear like that, and not tell anyone where you were going? I’ve been worried sick about you.”

“I went to stay with my father,” Emma said.

Mickey’s face went ashy. “Tyler? You were with
Tyler
?”

Emma didn’t know what to make of that look he was giving her. “I was. Why?”

“But...you shoulda said something, honey,” Mickey said. He looked up and down the alley. “Tell me. Does your daddy know you’re here?”

“Tyler’s dead,” Emma said, thinking, Mickey knew about Tyler. He knew about Tyler all along. Was that going to be her whole life—one secret, one betrayal after another?

Mickey wet his lips, his face sagging with sorry. “Oh, honey,” he said. “Let’s get you inside out of the cold.” Turning, he pawed at the door handle.

“Are you by yourself?” Emma asked quickly. “I don’t want anybody to see me.”

“Nobody’s in there but Riley, cleaning up before—” Mickey stiffened, turned. “Is somebody after you?”

“Well...” Emma didn’t know how to answer that question. “I know that the police suspect me in Sonny Lee’s murder.”

Mickey’s eyebrows shot up. “Murder? Who said he was murdered?”

“Well...I mean...he fell and hit his head. And I thought that maybe...maybe somebody knocked him down.” Emma felt like she’d fallen into a sinkhole, and now she was flailing around, getting herself in deeper.

“I guess he could’ve been...” Mickey said, slowly. “But I ain’t heard nothing about that. Old men fall down sometimes. I think the police couldn’t tell one way or the other. Unless you know something I don’t.”

Emma’s mind was racing, trying to keep up with what Mickey was saying. “So the police aren’t looking for me?”

“No, honey.” He scrunched his face, looking guilty. “I did report you missing when you disappeared. I think the police figured you’d run away, so I don’t know that they tried that hard to find you.”

Well, Emma thought, I’ve been stupid. Again. “Let’s go inside,” she said, straightening. “It’s cold out here.”

Mickey hauled open the door, ushering her inside. “We can stay back in the boardroom,” he said. The boardroom was a spare room Mickey had hoped to expand into one day. It was mostly used for storage and late-night poker games. “You want some breakfast? There might still be some bacon set aside for the—”

“Just coffee,” Emma said, helping herself to the backroom pot and loading it up with sugar and cream. Hanging her coat on the back of a chair, she sat down at the battered poker table, and Mickey sat down opposite her. She studied his hands, amazed at how old they looked to her now, the knuckles all gnarly with arthritis, the skin speckled with scars and sunspots.

“How’d you and Tyler find each other?” Mickey asked. “I didn’t—” He cleared his throat. “Did he get in touch with you?”

“Sonny Lee left me a note with Tyler’s phone number on it.”

Mickey’s shoulders slumped. “That Sonny Lee. He could never quite let go of the notion that Tyler had some good in him. That he’d turn himself around. Didn’t matter what he did.” He snorted in disgust. “Who was it killed him?”

Emma took a drawn-out sip of coffee to give herself time to think. “How do you know he didn’t die on his own?”

“Tyler Greenwood was not the kind of person who dies in bed,” Mickey said.

“Then you know something about him I don’t,” Emma said. She waited, that next question hanging in the air between them like the smoke in some after-hours club.

“What brings you back down here?” Mickey asked.

“Tyler left a message for me to read after he died. It just took a while for me to find it. He told me to come to Memphis. He told me to talk to you. That you—that you had the key.”

“He did?” Mickey’s eyes widened in surprise, which switched into horror. “He told you to come see me?” Now he fumbled in his pocket, pulled out his cigarettes and lighter, and tried to light one, but his hands were shaking so badly he couldn’t connect. “He knew,” he whispered. “He knew all along.”

“Knew what?”

“He knew that I was Sonny Lee’s backup.”

“Mickey, I don’t understand a word you’re saying.” Which made sense, because he seemed to be talking to himself.

Mickey’s eyes flicked away. He twisted a paper napkin between his fingers. “Look here, Memphis. It sounds to me like everybody’s dead that was involved in this thing. Nobody left to get hurt but you, and I don’t want that to happen. Maybe it’s better to let sleeping dogs lie and move on.”

“That’s just the thing,” Emma said. “Not everybody is dead, and people are still dying, and I think it’s going to keep right on unless I find out the truth.”

Mickey sighed, and it turned into an old man’s cough. “I knew you’d say that. Sonny Lee always said that you’d chew on something until you stripped it to the bone.” He looked into Emma’s eyes, which he almost never did, so she’d know he meant it. “He loved you more than anything, Emma Claire—that’s one truth you can believe in. But if there was somebody in second place, that would be Tyler.”

“Really?” Emma rubbed her tailbone, which was sore from sitting in the truck all night. “Tyler seemed to think Sonny Lee was mad at him.”

“He was, and he had good reasons,” Mickey said. “But sometimes we get the maddest at the people we love the most.”

Emma kept quiet, knowing that people will keep talking on just to fill a silence.

And Mickey did. “Sonny Lee couldn’t forgive some of the things Tyler’d done, but I guess at the end of the day, he decided you were better off with your daddy than with the county. He never did trust them much.”

“Sonny Lee never had a good word to say about my mother either,” Emma said, hoping this shot in the dark might hit something.

Mickey snorted. “There was no love lost between Sonny Lee and Gwen, but she didn’t deserve having Tyler Greenwood for a husband.”

“Why? Because he was a musician?” Emma guessed. “Sonny Lee always told me not to fall in love with a musician—that it just led to cheating, hard times, and heartbreak.”

I didn’t take your advice, she thought.

Mickey just looked at her, like he wished he could get out of this corner and go anyplace else where Emma wasn’t looking back at him. “Listen here,” he said, finally, planting both hands on the table. “I should have done better by you after Sonny Lee died. I was scared, and I’m not used to being responsible for somebody else. Your granddaddy and I have been friends forever, and I owe him.” He waved a hand, taking in their surroundings. “This ain’t much, but I own this building, and I make a living. You can stay here as long as you want, and work part-time for me if you need spending money.”

“I’ve got money,” Emma said automatically.

“Well, you may want to spend it for college or trade school or something,” Mickey said. “If you’re at all interested in this place, we could make a deal. It could be a lot more than it is, but I just don’t have the energy to put into it.” He looked up at her, all hopeful. “What do you say?”

“That’s a real kind offer, Mickey,” Emma said. “I’ll think hard about it. Now—what do you know about Tyler that I don’t? What was the secret you and Sonny Lee were keeping from me?”

Now Mickey slammed his hands down on the table, rattling Emma’s cup and saucer. “Damn it all, Memphis, can’t you let go of that? You won’t be happier after you hear it, I guarantee that.”

“I’m not happy now, so what’s the difference?” Emma said. She reached into her backpack and pulled out Tyler’s notebook, flipped it open to the annotated section, turned it so it faced Mickey. “Tell me what this is all about. Why did he pick these songs in particular?”

Mickey’s eyes shifted back and forth, and his lips moved a little as he read. When he’d got through the first page, he swore softly, then flipped around, sampling different ones.

“Typical Tyler,” he muttered. “Wants to hand this thing off to you and get it off his own chest.”

“Well,” Emma said, “he
is
dead. I don’t guess he’s worrying about it much.”

Mickey put his chin down on his chest, shoulders shaking, and it took Emma a while to realize that he was laughing. “You’re right,” he said, wiping at his eyes.

“
You
were right, by the way,” Emma said. “Tyler
was
murdered, and I was the one to give him away to his enemies. Ten years he’s been in hiding, and then I come to live with him, and then suddenly he’s dead.”

“That’s exactly why you don’t want to mess with this,” Mickey growled. “Safest thing would be to forget all about it.”

“You think they won’t find me here?” Emma shook her head. “I got myself into a tangle up north. It won’t take them long to find me. The safest thing is for me to know who my enemies are and why.”

Mickey sat quiet. He was grinding his teeth—Emma could tell by the way his jaw worked. “I just don’t get why Tyler would send you to me, after all this time,” he said.

“I think maybe he got to know me well enough to realize that I’d want to know the truth, no matter how much it hurt,” Emma said. “Maybe he thought I deserved to know, but he just wasn’t man enough to tell me when he was alive. Or he thought I was safer not knowing.” She paused, recalling what he’d said in his note.

I used to think that I was tough, but now I know I’m the biggest coward that ever lived.

“I might be a fool, Mickey, but I do think he cared about me.” She pulled out the sheet of paper on which she’d written the words she’d ferreted out of Tyler’s notebook. “He gave me this address.” She handed it over. “I’m going, with or without you. Do you know how to get there?”

Mickey barely glanced at the paper, then nodded. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Mickey stood. “Get your coat back on. I’ll drive.”