Chapter Seven Malcolm Davenport
CHAPTER SEVEN
Malcolm Davenport
I got Tethered yesterday, and now I have Emma Baldwin in front of me for the first time.
She’s wearing the same shiny red dress she wore in my vision, but now she looks furious.
She’s more beautiful than any picture. Her leg has threads woven in and out of her flesh in a gold ankle band.
Big-Mama was right. Emma’s Tethered, too.
Shit. She’s my competitor.
I should scare her off so nobody gets hurt. “What are you doing here, Emma?”
She opens her perfect mouth, but no words come out.
The ravens in the bamboo cages mimic her, screaming, “C-c-ruck! C-c-ruck! C-c-ruuuck!”
My heart thuds, the pull of her presence overwhelming. I’m split between being impressed that she came back here alone and wanting to toss her to the lion beside me to be pulled limb from limb. What’s happening to me? Where are these brutal compulsions coming from? Is this part of the Tether?
I send the lion away so she isn’t tempted to make Emma a snack. But I know that rebellious cat well enough to know she’ll stay close in case I call her back to protect me.
Emma, clearly stunned at her loss of voice, grips her throat. Scratches at it, like it’ll put words back in her mouth.
“Only in Philadelphia…” I laugh. “This is the only place an intruder would be arrogant enough to think we’d let them invade our space. And lie to us.” I decide to reassure her. “Don’t trip. You can talk. But the birds are spelled. They won’t let you say anything untrue.”
Her hair bounces around her face. “W-we…” She exhales; her brown eyes are now wide with—relief? Fear? A ghost of a smile touches her lips, and her shoulders relax. But her fists stay balled. Like she’s a moment from swinging at my head.
“I didn’t come to start trouble,” she says. “Can you please unfreeze my brother?”
She can talk, so her words are sincere … and her voice sends a chill through me. But that balled fist tells me she got an unspoken threat coming along with the favor she’s asking.
My music didn’t affect her. How? That makes me uneasy.
But I’m not about to let her know that. Besides, I was always going to release the crowd after I grabbed a drink and took a break.
But I gotta admit, Emma’s boldness is impressive.
She’s back here all by herself. That’s brave.
Since she wants to go all hunter and prey, chasing me backstage, I guess I should make the catch fun.
I lean on the table. “I hear your grandma makes illusions,” I say with an exaggerated effort and cross my ankles, so she can see the Tether around my ankle, too. It takes her a moment to notice, but her eyes go even wider. Not the cool kind of wide, the scared kind.
She raises her palms like she’s going to cast a spell on me. I can’t have that. “Like I said, the birds are spelled. Your power won’t work. Sorry, Star, that dust thing is useless here.”
“And what do you know about my stardust?” she spits.
The challenge in her tone makes me fight to suppress a smirk. Even when she’s at a disadvantage, she doesn’t cower. Luckily, Emma believes my lie. She must think the ravens work on us, too. And I like the way her nose crinkles with irritation.
Her eyes dart around like flames in her perfect face. She’s still squinting like she’s thinking hard, trying to figure out her next move.
The glare on her face says that if I took a bullet, she’d be the one pulling the trigger.
But I guess I’ll know the truth of that soon enough.
“Yes,” Emma says. “My grandmère uses illusions. Because my family has the good sense to mask their magic from nonmagical folks and enemies. Y’all have your power displayed on the front door like a mural.”
Emma’s fearless. Insulting us when she’s alone on our turf. Not giving a dang about the risk. That makes me fight another smile.
“So you think an eagle should pretend to be a pigeon?” I chuckle.
“Nah, we ain’t pretending. We don’t have to.
Folks here are our camouflage. They love our show, our music, and protect it, because we return the favor.
My family gives jobs to the neighborhoods we perform in.
We invest in after-school programs, job-skills programs, and we give free classes on getting out of debt, wealth building, and empowerment. What do y’all do?”
Her head tilts like she doesn’t know.
“I heard y’all do most of your shows for rich white folks.”
That hits a nerve. She bites her bottom lip, making me notice how perfect her mouth is. “You don’t know anything about us … about me—”
I interrupt her. “The Davenports help people crawl out of poverty. Help them grow. See, some travelers might choose not to change history. We choose to make it. To undo generational wrongs while you prance around and look pretty.”
My compliment disarms her, and her eyebrows lift, like what she’s hearing surprises her. “So,” Emma says. “If your family’s changed so much, why are things still messed up?”
If Big-Mama was here, she’d tell me to focus on getting information. Why is she here? What is she planning—and is it what Imani saw in her vision? I need intel to use against them. Her. In the Tether. Or now.
I need to figure out if the Baldwins are here planning an attack—and if I should sound the alarm to the rest of the family.
But I feel strange. I’m supposed to hate her.
I’m supposed to be overcome with rage, with bloodlust. But despite the bad urges that I had to push away, I can’t stop looking at her.
I wanna do the exact opposite of harm her.
“I’ve been really big on changing history.
It’s my thing. But no matter how we try, we can’t undo hundreds of years of slavery.
We couldn’t save Martin Luther King Jr., either.
We tried—hundreds of times—but it’s almost like someone is playing a game against us.
Undoing all our work for laughs. But if we stay outside the mainstream, avoiding big events, we’ve been able to save some smaller groups.
I hear your fam likes a flashy expensive life. ”
Emma sighs and rubs her forehead, looking like she’s rethinking things. “You don’t know my family,” she says softly.
Emma moves near the caged ravens. “How did you know about my power? The stardust? Have you been spying on me?” She gives me a look thick with disgust. Give her a dagger, and my heart would be bloody ribbons on the floor.
I grin. “Did you come to watch us?” Or plan an attack? “If you wanted to spy before we compete in the Tether, you got the best view right here.”
I stride straight up to Emma. I’m still shirtless from my act, so I stand real close so she can see all of me and I can see every inch of her. I stop right in front of her, so close that she can hit me. Or kiss me.
She doesn’t flinch. Instead, she holds my stare. Her courage intrigues me.
“Are you going to kill me?” she asks.
I start to answer yes, but the word tangles in my throat, the truth forcing its way out.
“No.” My breath gets heavy. My pulse races, and my skin tingles as my body reacts to her closeness.
Her lips part slightly, and her breathing hitches.
Her hands shake more, and she glances at my lips, like her body notices mine too.
I get so close I can almost hear her heartbeat.
I smell her sweetness. “See anything you like?” I ask.
Emma tries to say no, but the ravens won’t let her.
I smirk as she looks away angrily.
“Emma?” I fish for eye contact. I want to know what she’s thinking, what she can do … how we’re going to fight each other.
My heart skips a beat.
Emma puts her hand on her chest like she’s hurting there. I look for tears but only see a little moisture in the corners of her eyes. We’re inches apart. Then she speaks slow, saying words so gravelly and pained they probably cut her perfect lips.
“Can you undo whatever you did to Demetri? And to the crowd? Please?” I love that she isn’t afraid to communicate what she needs. Suddenly, I know I’ll give her anything she asks.
“Of course I’ll undo the compulsion,” I say, trying to sound casual. “I was always going to.”
For the first time, her eyes warm and a little of the hate in them fades.
I step away fast, looking at the door. Trying to figure out just how dangerous she is and what this pull is. It’s more than a physical attraction. She’s beautiful, yes, but it’s more than that. It’s like time slows, the world blurs, and she is all that’s clear. I just can’t figure out why.
“So that’s what you can do? Freeze people?” she asks.
“Somewhat,” I reply.
Her hands goes to her neck like she’s fishing for something that isn’t there.
“Lose something?”
“Where are my real clothes? Where are the things of the people who visit your show?”
I grin. “Our entrance is spelled to take collateral and any and all weapons. You’ll get your things back on the way out … except the weapons. We’re benevolent. Not stupid.”
“So Davenports are thieves, as well as murderers?”
“Let’s just say we do our part to reduce gun violence.” I put my palms up. “I know you want to protect your family. So do I. I lost a brother. We’ve all been hurt by this war.”
Her face softens. Like maybe she relates to the loss of a sibling.
I hope she knows I don’t want to take Demetri—or anything—from her.
I’m supposed to want to, but I don’t. I never have.
“We all got born into a mess made by generations before us. My family isn’t horrible.
Even if we had to do some horrible things to survive in the past. So maybe your family isn’t all bad either.
Maybe we’re all just trying to survive.”
Maybe I think too much. Maybe peace isn’t possible. Because the curse won’t let it be. But I have to keep my family safe.
“I want my brother.” Her eyes flash with impatient anger. “And my necklace!”
“He’s fine,” I say. “The crowd too.”
She heads for the door. I put my hand out to block her, brushing against her skin. “I’ll get your necklace. But meet me. Away from here. Away from your circus. Away from this time. So we can talk and figure this out.”
Emma’s eyes narrow. “Why should I trust you?”
I put my hands over Emma’s petite fingers. I feel the warmth of her skin. I let my hand linger, and she doesn’t pull away.
“You shouldn’t—and I don’t trust you either, if that makes you feel any better.
But I have just as much to lose as you do.
Mutually assured destruction … and both our families will hate it.
” I flash her my best cocky smile. “October fifteenth at the 1893 World’s Fair, the Columbian Exposition. Chicago, two days from now … Ten AM.”
“Where? By the Ferris wheel?”
“Just come. I’ll find you.”
“And my brother?” she asks.
I pick up my guitar and strum. The noise of the roaring crowd finds its way into the room.
“You’ll meet me?” A strange eagerness grows in my chest as I release her hand. She spreads her fingers, and stardust lifts from her nails and into a ball. She fires it at me like a grenade.
I gasp as the energy pummels my chest. My legs fling out from under me. I crash down.
“Don’t double-cross me. I’ll be there,” she shouts before disappearing into the hall.
My body shakes, my heart racing. “See you soon, Emma Baldwin.”