Chapter 30: Plotting it Out

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I had an uncle on my mom’s side who was really into conspiracy theories. He was the kind of guy everyone avoided at Thanksgiving, and whenever he managed to root someone in place, you could watch their eyes slowly glaze over as he talked about what he saw on Ancient Aliens last week.

That’s the kind of conversation that’s happening in my head right now. I feel like I’ve been cornered by my uncle, and his latest fixation is a knockoff version of the Illuminati.

Nathan and I are crouched down in an alley near the mansion the address led us to. It took some convincing to get him to let me go — actually, most of my time was spent trying to get him to let me go alone. I don’t want him tangled up in this. If something happened to Nathan, I would never in my life forgive myself.

There are few people in this world as good as Nathaniel Griggs. He deserves better friends.

“What’s he saying?” Nathan whispers. He wrinkles his nose, doubtless catching a whiff from the dumpster we’re hiding behind. He didn’t really react to hearing about my telepathic exchanges with the incubus. Beyond concern, anyway. I guess when you’ve seen a cat transform into what Mr. Darcy did you stop asking questions.

I shake my head. “I’ll uh. I’ll try to sum it up once he’s done.”

That’ll be a chore.

‘So where do you come in?’ I ask William. I’ve got myself wedged against a wall of cold brick, my shirt tucked up over my mouth and nose to try and avoid the stench. You’d think it wouldn’t be so bad, given how cold it is out here, but I swear somebody tossed a corpse in that damn thing.

‘I beg your pardon?’ I can tell he’s still holding out on me. Not on the information side of things — I get a sense he’s being as informative as he can given how little time he has to communicate, but I still feel the occasional throb of his pain. What are they doing in there, torturing him?

‘You said the Archive’s main purpose is to make sure creatures from the Aether remain on the right side of the veil. All well and good, but you’re a creature of the Aether, right? And they pulled you out. Pretty counterintuitive.’

‘Conventional weapons are only so effective against these beings,’ he replies, ‘Not to mention that each one has its own unique weaknesses. Dakota Hunter’s gun could not eliminate the amalgam because it did not consist only of demons. His Order and his weapon were created for an express purpose, and it could only do so much.’

‘…So they need something that can fight these things off in a broader capacity,’ I muse, frowning. ‘Fighting fire with fire, so to speak.’

‘Precisely.’ I can hear tiredness in William’s voice, and when I reach out to brush against his essence, I get the sense that he’s been drained. Instinctively I begin trying to figure out how I flooded him that first time, seeing if I could give him a little more juice…

‘Don’t,’ he says sharply. ‘He will be able to sense it. Not to mention the fact that you are still far too weak. You need time to recover.’

‘He’s hurting you,’ I say. I haven’t broached the topic yet, but now that I’ve said it I realize how true it is. ‘Why? Why in the hell would they do that? You’re on their side.’

I hear bitter laughter bubble in the space between our minds. ‘To a degree, yes. But Salazar does not want me to break free. I suspect he’s the Overseer of this Crossroad - this mansion is one of many scattered nexus of power that the Archive oversees. Meeting places for its members. Losing control of a tethered demon would be humiliating for him.’

‘…But you could break free? With enough energy?’

‘Perhaps. I would not recommend that plan, however. Untethering a demon takes time, but they have my book now, and they will use it against me if they must.’

That practically makes me go cross-eyed with anger. I glare at nothing in particular, but Nathan can tell I’m pissed, because he gives me a quizzical look. He’s sitting with his elbows on his knees, occasionally casting glances at the gaudy mansion beside us. I can tell he’s anxious. He doesn’t want to be here any more than I do.

Can’t blame him.

‘Why in the hell did you bring it to them?’ I ask. ‘You could have talked to me, William. I would have helped. You know that, don’t you?’

He doesn’t answer me right away. I get a sense of sorrow from him, and it makes me want to march right through that front door and demand they let him go. None of this makes any sense to me. Why would they abuse him when he’s helping them out?

‘I know you would have,’ he replies. His voice is gentle. ‘But you could not have fought them off, Lydia. There’s no one who would go head to head with the Archive — certainly not on my behalf. And they have ways of tracking the book down. It’s how Avidia — the woman I’ve spoken of before — found us. If I had tried to run, it was only a matter of time before they used a Seer or some other soothsaying creature to find me.’

‘And then they would have killed you,’ I fill in. ‘…Or. Untethered you, as you call it. You’d get lost in the Aether.’

‘Yes.’

Bullshit. It was all bullshit. My jaw starts to ache, and I realize I’ve gritted my teeth. William must be rubbing off on me.

‘So where do we go from here?’ I ask. ‘What should we do?’

He doesn’t answer right away. Nathan has begun to shift uncomfortably, and he stands up to stretch out his back. He still keeps an eye on the big building beside us — the front lawn is huge and thick with shrubs and well-trimmed bushes. He’s no doubt thinking what I’m thinking: someone could be watching us right now and we wouldn’t even know it. Sure, we’ve got the dumpster, but who’s to say some of the creatures the Archive ‘employs’ don’t have X-ray vision or whatever?

Not a heartening thought.

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‘You recall what I told you before, yes? About things being able to sense you? You’re in danger right now, Lydia. More danger than I even realized.’

The words make a painful knot form in my gut. I glance about, abruptly feeling like a dozen different pairs of eyes are zeroed in on me. ‘What do you mean?’

‘You are…’ He trails off, trying to find the right words. ‘You are more than I thought you were.’

Well that was clear as mud. ‘What do you mean?’

‘It would take too much time to explain. Suffice it to say that you are a beacon, Lydia. The thing that chased you down in the Aether is an example of it. So is that creature that found you back in Iowa. Until you find someone who can dampen the signature you give off, it’s going to keep happening. You will continue to be chased.’

His dodging of the question makes me want to spit, but part of me knows he’s right. He can’t relay this much information to me all at once. Eventually someone is going to realize we’re here — assuming they haven’t already — and as long as we’re just sitting around on our asses, the chances of that happening go up.

‘The Archive has the tools to help you,’ he continues. ‘To train you and to hide you. That hotel you were at? There are wards there that prevent anything not tethered to the Archive from entering. There’s no one else who’d be able to give you that kind of instruction, and certainly not to prepare you for the long term.’

‘…You said they’d be willing to kill me, though. Right?’

‘If they think they cannot control you, they’ll consider you a threat. The Archive eliminates threats with little prejudice.’ He lets those words sink in for a moment, putting weight behind them. ‘But it is also not the only organization that deals with the Aether and the veil. You recall the Templar?’

I grunt. ‘Not likely to forget a guy who pulled a gun on me.’

‘His Order may be willing to grant you some kind of protection. When they realize how you became embroiled in this, they’ll feel compelled to intercede on your behalf.’

‘Let me reiterate: he pulled a gun on me.’

‘An unloaded gun. Lydia, I have been dealing with the Order for a long, long time. They are not murderers. As loathe as I am to say it, they have their reasons for their actions. They have a tenuous relationship with the Archive, but if you garner their protection, it will be enough to ensure that you cannot simply be disposed of. When you speak to them, volunteer to undergo a Rite. Once they’ve determined you’re not possessed, they should be willing to offer you Sanctuary.’

My thoughts catch on the words ‘disposed of.’ I get a sudden, vivid image of being tossed in that nearby dumpster. Of giving off that wretched scent of decay. A chill raises goosebumps on my arms. I can’t help feeling like I’m trapped between a rock and a hard place. Like a damn cat stuck between two growling dogs.

“Nathan,” I say, peering at my friend.

He looks down at me expectantly.

“You said you came here with Dakota, right?”

He purses his lips, but nods. “Yeah. Used that app you put on our phones a while ago to find you. You know, back when Toby broke up with me and I had that rough patch with all the drinking.”

I grimace. “You were too good for Toby.”

“Oh, completely.” He cracks a smile. “Just wish I’d seen it sooner.”

I’m already kicking myself for the question, but I ask it anyway. “You got any way to contact him?”

He nods slowly. “…Yeah,” he replies. “But, are you sure? You realize if I’d known what he did, I never would have brought him with me.” Nathan’s eyes flash, and I’m again reminded of just how large he is. How imposing he can be when he wants to.

“I know,” I say. “William says he wouldn’t really have killed me. I guess the people he works for might be willing to help us out.”

Nathan gives me an uncertain look. “Are things really that desperate? That’s the plan?”

I can’t help but laugh. “I don’t have a better one. I trust William knows what he’s doing.”

He gives me a wry look. “You don’t think ‘I trust a demon’ is a sign of how bad things are?”

I stand up, kicking my legs to get some feeling back into them. “He’s not a bad guy, Nathan.”

The look on his face is so dubious I think he’s considering having me committed all over again. “Lydia. Do we need to have a talk? If you need me to reality-check you, I’ve done it before. I can do it again.”

I laugh under my breath, then jerk my chin towards the fence we climbed to get back here. “Come on. I want you to get in touch with him. Pick somewhere public, somewhere he can’t just break my neck in front of a bunch of witnesses.”

Nathan eyes me. “You just said…”

“I’d rather take as few chances as I can, you know? Just in case.”

He nods. We scramble back over the fence together — he has to give me a foot up to do it. Nathan, however, practically vaults the thing like an Olympian. I’m getting more and more glad that he decided to come after my stupid ass. I definitely want this much muscle on my side.

Before we drift out of range, I check in on William one last time. I’m not getting any steady pulses of agony anymore, so it seems like this Salazar guy is toning it down a little.

At least I hope so.

‘You sure you’ll be alright while we do this?’ I ask him.

‘I’ve faced far worse, Lydia.’

‘You realize that’s the most cliché line in history, right? I know you’re tough, William. But are you going to be okay?’

I can sense his amusement. I sense something else too. Something warm and fledgling, like a bud poking up out of the ground. I try to ignore it, to not draw attention to it. I focus really hard on not letting him sense the same feeling budding up in me.

‘I’m going to be fine. Thank you. And thank you for understanding why I did what I did.’

I very nearly laugh at that. ‘William, you said they were going to kill you if you didn’t cooperate. Or let you unravel or whatever. Jesus, how could I not understand that?’

‘Yes. But I…’

‘You’ve known me for a week. I don’t expect you to sacrifice your life for me. I’m mad at you, yeah. I won’t deny it. But I get it. And I’ll get over it eventually, I just need some time.’

‘You’ve known me for a week,’ he repeats. There’s something almost contemplative about his tone. I linger beside the buildings that make up the alleyway, peering up and down the street as Nathan fishes around for his phone.

‘…Yeah, that’s what I said.’

‘Precisely. Lydia, if something goes wrong, I expect you to put your life first. I expect you to do whatever you need to to ensure your own safety. Do you understand?’

‘Now hang on a second…’

‘No. You’re precisely right.’ I’d expect him to sound angry, and at first I wonder if I’ve hurt his feelings. But that isn’t the sense I’m getting. He’s worried about me. Deeply worried, in a way that startles me given our brief association. Is it this link between us? Maybe it just cuts through all the bullshit of getting to know somebody. I know how long we’ve been traveling together is a logically short amount of time, but if I’m honest with myself, it feels longer.

I don’t want to abandon him. Honestly, I’m not sure that I could.

‘No matter what you must do, you keep yourself safe. Promise me, Lydia.’ His words are so earnest it twists my heart. Nathan is nodding to himself, or rather nodding along with whatever’s being said on the other end of his phone. He glances around himself, looking at the name of the street we’re on, reaffirming his bearings and our location.

‘I know what your name is now. Your whole name.’

That startles him into silence.

‘I don’t care how these people treat you. And I don’t care what this Archive of yours believes. You’re a person, William Doherty. I’m not going to throw my life away, but I’m going to help you, alright? Even if it takes a while, I’m not going to just up and leave you. I’ll be careful, but that’s all I’ll promise.’

‘Lydia…’

‘Just hang in there.’ I nod at Nathan as he gestures for me to follow, already turning and heading further up the road. I can feel William’s words growing softer as we move further away from the mansion. The bond is still there — I can sense his emotions, sense his presence, but his words start to grow faint. ‘I’ll come back for you.’

I don’t get an answer from him. I don’t know if it’s because I’ve stepped out of range, or if he just doesn’t have anything to say, but it doesn’t matter. We can’t just keep hanging around here. If we do, we won’t get the chance to do anything on our terms.

And while I’m not exactly well educated about the Archive, I’ve already got a feeling I don’t want to be operating under theirs.

“So,” I say, catching up with the big man. Nathan ends his call. “Where are we headed?”

He makes a face. “Somewhere I’d rather not go.”

I look at him, alarmed. “Where’s that?”

He wrinkles his nose, already punching in another number. Probably calling a cab. He brings his phone up to his ear again as he mutters to me:

“We’re going to church.”