Page 89 of Concluded
Dee felt as if he was going to be sick.It was probably perverse that Irina’s plan hit him more viscerally than the ideas of war and genocide, but he couldn’t help that.“I’m not a goddamn stud horse,” he growled.
“Stop with the melodrama.What you are—or could be, if you behave—is the powerful father to an entire race.You could beAdam, my dear, only you’ll never be expelled from paradise.We will create our own paradise.”She smiled brightly, showing off teeth that were too straight and too white to be natural, and she held out a hand as if bidding him to take it.
But Dee sensed something shallow about her enthusiasm, a thin brittle shell masking something else.If he’d known her better, he might have been able to identify the deeper, truer emotion.All he could do now was bury his face in his hands.
Irina went back to turning the pages of her magazine.
How do I get out of this?How do I get information to people who can do some good with it?And gods, how do I get Achilles to safety?
Dee had no answers to these questions.He’d never had to strategize before.Hell, he’d barely managed his own life and certainly hadn’t taken on responsibility for anything or anyone else.
Maybe his djinn nature was to blame.Irina said he needed a master; Charles had said the same.And Dee had felt the truth of this in his bones, in his soul—if he had one.He was destined to follow, to obey, to passively allow someone else to steer him.
Bullshit.That’s just an excuse for doing nothing.
Face still hidden in his palms, Dee scowled at the voice in his head.Couldn’t he get sympathy from himself, at least?
Sure, buddy.Add self-pity to the mix.That’ll help.
Dee growled.He’d feel sorry for himself if he damned well wanted to.He’d ended up in this situation purely because he’d been born a djinn, and he’d done the best he could, and now?—
For fuck’s sake.Look at your mother, Damnation.She lost her people.Lost her husband.Got stuck in a new country with a useless brat and a son-of-a-bitch husband she only hooked up with because she had to support the brat.
Yeah, look at her.Sitting there in her fancy clothes with her stupid magazine, hooking up with a monster who made Martell look like an angel by comparison.
But she’s finding a way to control her destiny, isn’t she?It’s a fucked-up way to be sure, but she’s using Spurling at least as much as he’s using her.She’s not passive at all.
Dee groaned, mostly because he had to admit that the obnoxious voice was right.Irinawasin charge of herself, sort of, and was getting what she wanted.Including, apparently, a private collection of Bureau agents to toy with.Whereas Dee was just sitting on an uncomfortable chair, spiraling nowhere except possibly into insanity.
And Achilles was still in the black hole.
Dee suddenly realized that a lot of his most immediate problems could be solved if he was in the black hole too.Because if the two of them were reunited, Achilles could make a wish, and then both of them could get the hell out of there.
Okay, then.How could Dee get into the hole?
He knew that this was urgent.Time passed differently in the black hole, so there was no telling how long Achilles had been there already, and what the experience had done to him.At any point, Irina might decide she felt like doing something even worse than collecting him.Or Spurling might opt to get rid of someone who he considered a nuisance at best and a potential threat at worst.
On top of that, Spurling clearly didn’t trust Dee.If Dee didn’t gain that trust quickly, Spurling would undoubtedly decide he was far too dangerous to keep alive.A djinn wasn’t the sort of weapon you’d want to risk falling into the enemy’s hands.
Plus, there was the big evil master plan.Dee hadn’t caught the news for the past few days, but he had the impression that things were going very badly in the country and maybe the entire world.How much longer until the damage became irreversible?
Fine.So Dee had to dosomething, and he had to do it pretty fast.The problem was that, while he was a weapon, he couldn’t wield himself.And he didn’t have a Bureau agent’s training, or much of an education, or any relevant experience.
He must have groaned again, because Irina made an annoyed sound.“If you’re going to have a tantrum, Deedee, do it somewhere else.”
She’d never had any patience for his shows of emotion, even when he was very little, and she’d almost never revealed her feelings to him.Even Martell, asshole that he was, had occasionally sympathized when Dee was upset and had even, on rare occasions, shared happiness over something like an extra-large paycheck or a TV show he liked.
Emotions wereimportant, even if Irina didn’t seem to understand that.Even the negative ones, but especially the positive ones.Charles had put it well during their drive to San Francisco, when he’d talked about the balance between things like hate and greed and things like hope and joy.It feels so good when the light prevails, he’d said.
Dee saw now that he had a tool after all.
“Irina,” he said quietly.
She looked up, face composed.Waiting.
“My father—my real one, not Martell.Did you love him?”
Her mask slipped momentarily, briefly replaced with a startled expression.“What?”
