Chapter 6
“Grab the myth and go.”
I mumbled Charlene’s line just before we escaped. Her plea held the answer. Not solving the mystery ate away at me. I tried to convince myself that my fears were occupational. I wasn’t ready to admit how personal this had become.
Vanguard slept, still dark by city standards. Snow covered the sidewalks in undisturbed white. The streets were empty except for a single plow working its way through downtown, blade scraping against asphalt. It’d almost be beautiful if there wasn’t a magic-wielding killer somewhere behind us.
I drove with both hands locked on the wheel, basking in the chill from the broken window.
Nick slumped in the passenger seat, barely conscious.
His head rested against the window. Every few minutes, his hand flickered translucent, then solidified again.
Each time it happened, my grip tightened.
Even if we evaded the man… demon?… villain? did it mean he’d survive?
The safe house sat beneath an old administrative building turned into one of those self-storage centers.
The Task Force had bought the first floor as a place to hide and regroup just for situations like this.
Unlike the cabin door, this one required three separate credentials to open.
I pulled into the garage and killed the engine.
Nick didn't stir.
I climbed out and circled to his side. I should have been shivering from the cold. Instead, I could almost feel the ice flowing through my veins. I was still in fight-or-flight mode, and my body wanted a second round.
My breath hung in clouds. I opened his door and caught him before he could slide out onto the concrete. As long as he kept breathing, I had hope.
"Stay with me," I mumbled.
He made a sound that might have been acknowledgment.
I snatched my duffel back before I got my shoulder under his arm and half-carried him toward the entrance.
I pressed my hand to the right of the door, just like Charlene had with the woodshed.
It glowed green while a needle pricked my pointer finger.
Another panel opened, and I leaned in, letting it scan my eye.
The door unsealed with a hiss of compressed air.
I hauled Nick through and let it close behind us, the magnetic locks engaging with a loud thunk. We were safe… I hoped.
The corridor beyond was sterile and empty.
Fluorescent lights hummed overhead. Our footsteps echoed against concrete walls.
I moved as quickly as I could without dragging him.
I finally hoisted him as if I were going to carry him across the threshold.
Navigating the maze of hallways, we reached the main operations room.
The space was larger than the cabin’s living room but felt smaller.
The overhead lights flickered to life. Here, there were no massive fireplaces and crackling flames.
No windows to stare into the snow. Equipment lined the walls.
I’d need to take inventory and see if the Task Force had anything in its arsenal for our friend.
The far wall had a desk with computers and a single cot. I had used this room twice before for witness protection. The greatest threat at that point had been boredom. I never thought I’d be back.
I lowered Nick onto the cot. He lay still, eyes closed, breathing shallow but still steady.
His hand rested on his chest. I watched, trying to figure out what would make him flicker.
Dimensional shift? Alternate realities coming into alignment?
Without knowing more about him, I could beat every bad guy, and it still might not save him.
I dropped my duffel back on the desk and pulled my coat off, draping it over his chest. He didn't react. I adjusted it anyway, tucking it around him until only his face showed.
The computer hummed, the screen snapping to life.
I watched as the code spread across the screen.
“Secure.” The word blinked on the screen twice before Charlene appeared.
She had a bruise under her right cheek, and her hair was filled with ash.
She had seen close combat and lived, and that gave me hope.
“How did you find us?”
“Do you think I let him out of my sight without a tracker?”
Who the hell was this girl? I couldn’t get the office intern to make a good cup of coffee.
"What happened to the cabin?"
“There’s still three walls.” She said. “Two and a half. How is he?”
I glanced at Nick. His chest rose and fell, barely. “Alive. Charlene, what was that thing?”
“Honest. I don't know.”
“What aren’t you telling me? Who—
“I gotta go.”
“Is he back?”
“No.” She looked over her shoulder. “I have another emergency to attend to.”
“But—”
The screen went dark. I smacked the keyboard, but the screen didn’t turn on.
I sat in the chair, tapping buttons on my gauntlet.
“Searching Network.” I watched as it blinked over and over again.
Either the safe house prevented me from connecting to the satellite, or something more menacing was at work.
Nick stirred on the cot. His eyes opened halfway, unfocused and dull. He looked around the room slowly, taking in the concrete walls and exposed pipes.
"This isn't the cabin," he said. His voice came out rough, barely more than a whisper.
"No."
He closed his eyes again. I caught the shiver as he remained under my jacket. “Did he follow?"
"Not yet."
I pulled the chair from the desk, sitting next to Nick, close enough I could reach out. I restrained from putting a consoling hand on his chest. Keep it professional. He opened his eyes and looked at me. Really looked at me.
Sorrow.
“You should've let him have me.”
My jaw tightened. "That's not how I work."
“You can’t protect me from this.” He freed his hand from under my coat.
Holding it up, the skin shimmered as if he were turning invisible.
On its own, I wouldn’t have thought twice.
The expression on his face as he watched, that broke me.
My mission turned from saving him from a magical bad guy to saving Nick from himself.
“It’s over—”
"Don't." I grabbed his hand. The moment my skin connected, it seemed to keep him from fading. “Nick.” It wasn’t a professional, assertive tone. This was one human to another. As I thought of Charlene’s words, I realized I had missed the obvious. “You’re a myth.”
He didn’t respond. The confirmation explained the Redline file. There were heroes born with awesome power. Myths, on the other hand, they were ancient beings who existed alongside mankind. I assumed they were nothing more than folklore… until I saw a leprechaun riding a unicorn.
"How long have you been fading?" I asked.
"Years."
"How many?"
"Does it matter?"
It didn’t. There weren’t many of them left in the world, or if there were, they remained hidden. Alvarez had forced me to sit through a lecture about them. I cursed ever having spotted the unicorn. She had made it mandatory. Nobody knew why they faded away, just that it was inevitable.
He shifted on the cot, trying to sit up. I put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back down. Not hard. Just firm enough to make the point. He didn’t resist.
“I appreciate it.” I didn’t believe him. “But you can't stop this.”
“If you had read my personal report, you’d see the words relentless, stubborn, and insubordinate in red Sharpie. I’m not giving up on you.”
"Why?"
I didn't have an answer to that. Not one I could say out loud. Had his hand turned translucent while we were occupied? I tried to think back, but it wasn’t his hand that came to mind. Dropping my head, I hid the growing heat in my cheeks.
I squeezed his hand, studying his face. Part of me wanted to ask him who he really was, if he came from a story I had been told as a kid.
I didn’t know the protocol. It’s not like the unicorn and I had a conversation, and the leprechaun had stolen the change out of my pocket and vanished.
I’m not sure it mattered. I wouldn’t abandon a client.
"You don't have to stay." After what happened in the cabin, that cut deeper than it should have.
"I know."
“Why—” He let out a long sigh. “Why are you?”
There were two answers. One would look good on the official report before they called it closed.
The other, that was the one I had avoided for months.
As retirement approached, I imagined walking off into the horizon and becoming nothing more than a distant memory.
Without the job, I had no purpose, no direction. Like Nick, I expected to fade away.
I didn’t want to fade away, but I wasn’t ready to admit it. “Protocol,” I said.
He didn't respond to my lie. I’m glad he didn’t.
I couldn't name what I was feeling. The department psychologist would rattle off something about me putting up walls or ignoring my feelings. She wasn’t wrong, not that I ever told her that. If I named it, it’d become real. Real things got people hurt.
Regardless, I stayed.
I held my spot on the edge of my seat, not letting go of his hand. What did it mean when a myth faded? What happened to them after that? I tried pulling my thoughts back. I was going to stop it, I just didn’t know how. Not yet.
Of the thousand questions coming to mind, I fixated on one. Why did it matter so much? It wasn’t the job. I could admit that. Was it because Nick and I weren’t so different? Or was it something more?
I didn't have an answer.