Legacy(11)

Scott let hang a silence between us for a minute as his face went through a cavalcade of emotions, all of which seemed to be a struggle for him. “Well, I’m happy for you.”

“Be happy for yourself, too,” I said. “Because you get the same deal.”

He let out a little scoff. “I haven’t done anything wrong. These charges are bullshit and I will fight them.”

“No, you won’t,” I said, shaking my head slowly. “Because even if you could stomach the thought of sitting on the sidelines while I’m fighting—” he started to say something in protest but stifled himself before I had to, “you know that every meta who dies between now and when you ‘get out’—if you get out—is one you might have been able to help save if you’d been working with me instead of twisting around like a wild bull trying to avoid the lasso.”

There was a long pause, and his frown expressed near disbelief. “A bull dodging a lasso? Really?”

I shrugged. “Zack took me to a rodeo once. It fits.”

He looked utterly disgusted, but I saw the concession on his face. “Fine.” He threw up his arms. “Fine, I’ll help. But not to save my own ass.” His look softened. “I’m doing this because you need someone who’s going to watch your back while you’re involved in this deal with the devil.”

I gave him a weak smile. “I don’t think the U.S. government is the devil.”

He gave me a wary look. “They threaten to charge you with murder—”

“Which I’m guilty of.”

He kept going as if I hadn’t said anything, “—then offer you a deal overlooking said murders if you work with them.” He shook his head. “Doesn’t sound like the forces of good and righteousness to me.”

I felt a tightness in my jaw as I walked to the door and pounded on it once, hard. “It sounds like pragmatism to me. Like they acknowledge that they’re in a hard place and need help. Real help.”

Scott followed me to the door, standing only a foot behind me as I waited for it to open, and his face split into a wide grin. “Then why the hell are they coming to you and me?”

I heard a lock sliding and I could have sworn a draft was sweeping in under the door because I felt a chill. While I waited for it to open, I looked at Scott and gave him a sad look, one that wiped the smile entirely off his face.

“Because we’re all that’s left.”





Chapter 6




Foreman led us down the hall a little farther, Scott glaring at the senator with eyes like daggers. I didn’t know what Foreman’s power was, but I hoped it wasn’t the ability to sense when someone was giving you dirty looks while your back was turned.

The hall was long and dim, and when we stopped outside the next cell, Foreman paused, holding out the FBI ID he’d thrown at my feet earlier, along with another that had Scott’s picture on it. “You’ll be needing these.”

I took mine from his hand and gave it a once over before sliding it into the pocket of my jeans. Then I clipped the badge onto the bottom of my untucked blouse. I watched Scott look at his with utter distaste before pocketing the ID in his pullover.

“Got a couple more stops to make here,” Foreman said, and rapped his dark knuckles against the metal door. “None of our people have spoken to this one yet. Been stewing since they got here—”

“Dodging gender pronouns so you can be mysterious doesn’t really get you any points with me,” I said. “My last boss did the vague and mysterious act a lot, too.”

Foreman gave me a broad grin. “In my case, I’m doing it for my own entertainment. I love the emotion of surprise. I think most people do, actually. We love the reaction when two unexpected characters meet again after a long absence, love seeing the emotional spinout from it. We love cliffhangers where the music swells, and we’re left wondering how they’ll play out when we come to the scene again. People love surprise, to not know what’s going to come next. It gets them through their days.”

I clicked my teeth together in annoyance. “Not everybody loves surprise.”

He shrugged. “I do, and since I’m running the show ...” He threw the door open and gestured for me to enter.

I sighed and did so as he moved out of the way, revealing a woman sitting on a cot at the edge of the room.

“You,” Ariadne said with a hint of surprise, her red hair ratty and knotted as if it hadn’t been washed in a couple days. “I should have known you were behind this.” Her eyes were wild, her face in near disbelief. “It wasn’t enough that you had to kill her, now you get your revenge on me, too? Having me locked away—”