Page 20 of Freaks
EIGHT
SERA
PROOF OF DEATH
I’d imagined how I was going to die, and it was nothing like this.
I’d always figured I’d die alone, in my bed, of a stress-related heart attack in my sixties, much earlier than I should have, and that my body wouldn’t be found for days.
Lying on the cold concrete in the stairwell of the Eddison Gas and Electrical Works, my head twisted at a migraine-inducing angle, my hands bound behind my back, the rope digging into my skin so deep I knew it was going to fucking bruise, I felt as though I was somehow inviting a much more horrific end with this charade.
None of this was real, but it had tolookreal. That meant the restraints had to break the skin. That meant I had to bleed. That meant my body had to be tangled up and twisted in as unnatural a position as possible, and, according toZeth, it meant that I had to be scared. I wasn’t having any trouble with that part, at least; I reallywasscared.
The last time someone had tried to tie me up, I’d slit their throat with a blade made out of glass. I hadn’t felt this vulnerable since then, and that was saying something. My troubles had far from ended the moment Sam Halloran died. No, there had been plenty more fucked up, damaging scenarios I’d had to endure after that day. Sixsmith had made sure of that.
“You okay?” Fix asked, as he finished binding my ankles together. He’d refused to let Zeth anywhere near me when he’d set him free, let alone help him. He’d given Zeth his freedom on the condition that he sent his boss, Charlie, evidence of my death, and then he leave New York immediately. Zeth had agreed, but even I’d seen the cold, wicked look in his eyes as Fix let him go. The man was not happy. Personally, I thought it was insane that Fix had released him at all, but Zeth had grudgingly given his word that he wouldn’t do anything once he was free, and Fix had chosen to believe him.
“Yeah. I’m okay,” I muttered. “My back feels like it’s about to break in two and my hip’s bruised, but I’m fine.” I wasn’t just lying in the stairwell of Fix’s building. I was sprawled down a flight of stairs, head first, my entire body weight resting on my left shoulder and my jaw. To say I was uncomfortable was a serious fucking understatement.
“Just need a little blood and then I’ll be able to get you out of here,” Fix said quietly under his breath.
I hadn’t even thought about that. Of course there’d be blood if I’d been shot in the back and tossed down a stairwell. But where was he going to ge—
A thick, cloying, metallic, highly unpleasant odor hit the back of my nose as Fix began to pour something over my back. “You ever see the movie, Carrie?” he asked.
“No,” I answered through my teeth. “Why? Is it important?”
“Nope. Not in the slightest.”
I tried not to jerk away when he began to pour a thick, viscous, almost black liquid around my head onto the steps
“That stinks. What is it?” I hissed.
“Really. You don’t wanna know.”
“All right. Just hurry up. I hate this.” It was all a little too real for my liking. There was a chance I was going to end up this way for real, broken and bleeding, vulnerable and dying, tilted upside down as my vital lifeblood spilled out onto a flight of concrete steps. I almost laughed.
“What’s so funny?” Fix brushed his hand through my hair, and stupidly I thought he was being sweet, trying to reassure me. Then I realized his hand was covered in that vile, crimson-black fluid and he was rubbing it through my hair. Charming. “It just occurred to me. If Carver doesn’t buy this, we’ll be right back where we started, with yetanothermystery hitman out to hunt us down.”
From the corner of my eye, I watched as a wan, almost sad smile twitched at the corner of Fix’s mouth. Earlier, standing over the bathtub with those jumper cables in his hands, he’d been terrifying—a shade of the man now crouched next to me, trying to make me look convincingly dead. He’d been a different person altogether.
The words he’d said to Zeth, that he called me his angel because I brought him back to himself, reminded him he wasn’t entirely lost, had been surprising. Did he really feel that way? How the hell had I managed to become such an important anchor to him, when I constantly felt like I was drifting toward ruin and destruction myself?
“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Fix murmured. “You’re the woman no assassin could kill. One look at you and we’re all fucking helpless, useless morons.”
From the top of the stairs, a very bored voice said, “Speak for yourself.”
Fix glowed with annoyance. “You ended up in a bathtub with twenty thousand volts flowing through you, if you’ll recall.”
“Didn’t happen because I’m useless. That happened ’cause she pointed a fucking assault rifle at my head.”
Fix’s top lip curled back. I couldn’t reach out to touch him—my hands were otherwise occupied, turning numb and probably blue behind my back—so I nudged his knee with the end of my nose. “You’re like oil and water. And the oil is on fire, and the water is boiling. Just ignore him, get him to take the damn photo, and let’s get out of here.”
He grunted in response. Standing quickly, he jogged back up to the top step where Zeth was waiting and said, “You heard the girl. Take the photo and send it.”
Silence flooded the stairwell. After an incredibly long minute, Zeth’s gravelly voice echoed off the walls. “Done. It might have been in your job description once upon a time, butIdon’t forgive people, Priest. And I sure as fuck don’t forget. If I ever see or hear from you again, I won’t leave you alive. You feel me?”
Fix didn’t say a word. I knew the look he was giving the other man—a defiant, challenge-laden glare that was bound to be making things even worse. Still, Zeth didn’t cause trouble. I heard the slow, scraping approach of boots on the concrete steps, and then he stepped over me. Pausing a moment, he twisted and looked down at me. “Let me give you a piece of advice for the road, little girl,” he rumbled. “The man standing at the top of those stairs? There’s no such thing as alifewith him. There’s excitement, there’s danger, and there’s adrenalin. But there isn’t much of anything else.”
