Deena Riordan: Indelible Ink Part 22

60.

Deena hit the stop b.u.t.ton with her foot. There was no way she was going to reach Marsh's floor with her arms pinned by some minion and her feet dangling because he had her in a bear hug. The abrupt stop put everyone off balance and Deena saw her chance. She wrenched up an arm, elbowed the man in the face, and wiggled free, standing on her own two feet. She considered trying to summon the Shadow Energy, and again decided it wasn't something she wanted to tamper with. What would it cost her physically and mentally? The thought of conjuring help from a being that existed inside her was disturbing. She'd gotten free of its control; she wanted to stay that way.

Plus, it creeped her out.

While Deena had worked out at the boxing club and had occasionally had to fend for herself without using her powers, she wasn't really a brawler. Fistfights weren't her thing and the two men were much bigger and more muscular than she was. If she couldn't use her powers, she'd prefer a gun in her hand. Deena's only advantage was the tight environment of the elevator. The men didn't have much room to swing at her without getting in each other's way. As they advanced, she smacked the stop b.u.t.ton again, putting the elevator back in motion and unbalancing everyone all over again.

"Are you gonna do this all day? Cause it's getting boring, quick," one of the men said.

"We're headed back up towards Marsh's office; I thought that was what you wanted." Deena backed away without putting herself into a corner. There weren't many places to go on the crowded elevator, so she tried to keep moving. The men looked up at the numbers over the door, watching the twenties light up one by one.

61.

As each floor number lit up, Stanley felt his body tense. What awaited the two of them was a confrontation he had never thought he'd be around to see. At the next stop was Marsh's office, along with several bodyguards, thugs and hired killers. He a.s.sumed he'd be long gone when someone came after Marsh. He'd hoped he would be in a new city, with a new name, living in witness protection or something. He certainly didn't antic.i.p.ate that he would be one of the idiots gunning for one of the city's biggest crime bosses.

"You're awful quiet over there," Harper said.

"Nothing to talk about."

"Isn't there?"

"Nope," Stanley tried to keep his focus on the numbers lighting up. His hands were shaking a little and nothing he did could stop them. He put them behind his back so Harper couldn't see.

"This could get ugly. Maybe you should stay in the elevator and let me and Deena regroup," Harper reached out.

Stanley moved just out of her reach. "If it gets ugly, it gets ugly. What's going to happen once you and your sister meet up? She's the one that got you into all of this. Not just the current situation, but she's the one that got you started with Marsh. I watched you. It took you years to finally break down and do the things Marsh told you to do. Until that point, Deena had done all the dirty work. She killed who needed killing, beat who needed beating. All for Marsh. But you held out. If it wasn't for her, you could've left any time."

"I wanted to leave. I did. But Marsh and Deena both fed me separate lines of bulls.h.i.+t. Deena said I was just as f.u.c.ked as she was for all the crimes she'd committed and Marsh said he'd kill Deena if I tried to get out. She never once seemed serious about leaving with me," Harper said. She checked the gun and steeled herself for when the door opened. "Am I going to be happy to see her? I don't know. I just don't."

When the elevator doors finally opened at the top floor, they found the lobby empty. Stanley's desk was empty, and there was no one sitting on the leather couches in the waiting area, not a soul to be found.

Stanley looked at his desk warily, he wondered if someone was hiding behind it, waiting to ambush them and he wondered if he could dodge a bullet meant for the sisters.

Harper moved over to the elevators and watched for the car as it ascended. "Looks like we managed to make it here first."

62.

The high-pitched sound of the elevator's ding rang as the car reached the thirtieth floor. "I take it I'm getting off first?" Deena asked the two men. They'd danced around in the elevator together, no one wanting to make a move. The men seemed content to wait out the clock and make a move on Deena once they'd reached their destination. They didn't know that Deena hadn't planned on using her powers, so they could be excused for not wanting to rush her and risk a black shadow cutting them to ribbons.

If the goons had expected help on Marsh's floor, they were disappointed. The s.h.i.+ny metallic doors opened slowly to reveal two people with guns aimed directly into the elevator. But Stanley and Harper weren't there to help them subdue Deena.

Deena ducked and the waiting duo shot into the elevator, filling the men there with bullets. When they stopped shooting, the elevator doors closed and the elevator started back down, floor by floor.

Deena pushed herself up onto her feet. She saw how empty the lobby for Marsh's office was. "Did you make an appointment?"

"Funny," Harper said. Her face was stony and showed no sign of emotion.

"I'm sorry. Mr. Marsh is booked solid until four. Maybe you could come back then?" Stanley's face was easier to read. He looked scared and shaky. Guns weren't his thing and neither was violence. As far as Deena knew, he lived and died numbers.

Deena looked at the door to the office. "Do we want to go in?"

"Why? Why would we need to?" Stanley said. "We're all together. Harper is safe. You're safe," Stanley said. "Let's get the h.e.l.l out of here and let the feds or the police or the army take care of this now."

The noise in Deena's head didn't let her react. All of the years at Marsh's command, all of the horrible deeds that she'd done at his behest. It wasn't just the thing inside of her that had made her do terrible things; he had a big hand in it.

"I don't really want to go in there, OK?" said Stanley. "I don't want to have to look that man in the eye when he finds out how screwed he is and that I'm one of the ones who screwed him." Stanley talked in a low tone and kept looking at the door.

"I do," Deena said. "Buzz me in."

"What?" Stanley asked.

Pointing absently, Deena indicated the b.u.t.ton on Stanley's desk. "The buzzer. Let me in."

On his way to his desk, Stanley handed Deena his gun. "You might need this."

The weapon felt heavier than she remembered in her hands. "Thanks."

As the buzzer began to scream, indicating she could open the door, Deena could feel her sister fall into step with her. She turned to see Harper, her face still blank and unreadable, standing almost next to her. They walked through the door together.

There weren't huge hordes of killers and cutthroats waiting to capture and murder the sisters. The office was the same as always, a huge s.p.a.ce with minimal furniture. Tennis b.a.l.l.s everywhere. The giant window that made up the western wall was bright and clear, showing the city beyond. The only actual furnis.h.i.+ngs were an oversized desk with a chair behind it and two uncomfortable chairs opposite for Marsh's visitors to sit on. Deena had felt her b.u.t.t go to sleep on those monsters numerous times over the last decade or so. They made her squirm, though she hadn't realized until that moment that the chairs were probably chosen deliberately for exactly that reason.

Marsh himself was standing with his back to them, looking out over the city. He didn't turn; though Deena got the feeling maybe he could see them in the gla.s.s. He'd always seemed to know things he had no business knowing, arrivals and departures, facial expressions. As she got better at her job, Deena began to understand the tricks that people used to give themselves an edge in life. Using reflections in gla.s.s was just one of them.

"So, everyone's back safe and sound?" he asked. "It was a big empty building for a couple of days there, and now all at once everyone is back." He held up his hand and ticked off the names one at a time. "Deena goes missing, Avi goes after her, Wallace goes, Morgan goes, Ramirez goes. And oddly, we can't find Harper or Stanley. It was unnatural. It was lonely here without you." He turned and finally looked at them with a face of quiet, almost pleasant, calm. "But now everyone's back. All at once. What fortunate timing."

"Look," Deena said. "I agreed to come back to talk if you let my sister go. She was free when we got here, so I guess that deal is off."

"Hmmm," Marsh said. "I'm not sure how poor Stanley got involved. When Harper escaped, did she take him as insurance? Did she think Stanley could get her out of here?" Stanley was a wildcard in the whole thing. Deena wasn't sure how involved he had been in getting Harper out, but Pel and Garrett had a.s.sured her that Stanley was integral in bringing a case against Marsh. It was impossible to know if Marsh knew about Stanley's overtures to the feds.

"Apparently everyone was getting lonely, Mr. Marsh. They all wanted me home just as quickly as possible, judging by the number of your goons that stopped by to see me at one point or another. Ramirez was out there. Was that Morgan that paid me a visit? Just one after another, your lonely employees came to say h.e.l.lo. They must have really missed me." Deena's throat felt dry suddenly. The words thick in her mouth.

"Well, I understand Avi isn't going to be joining us anytime soon," Marsh said. "That's too bad. Thankfully, he managed to give us your location and convey your plans to come back here before he died."

"That's c.r.a.p." Deena was sure that Avi's help was genuine and that he hadn't sold her out. If he had, why would Marsh's men have killed him? It was all a ploy to throw Deena off, or a way to stall her until more men could show up to kill them.

Deena and Harper moved to opposite sides of the office, together with Marsh, they formed a triangle.

"So you're leaving me? After I took you wretched orphans in? You were living in the woods like animals and I gave you food, shelter and productive jobs." Marsh's tone was dripping with sarcasm, mocking Deena. "You'd be dead now if it wasn't for me."

Deena adopted a similarly insincere tone. "I'm grateful for everything that you did for us back then, but don't act so wounded. You took advantage of us in terrible ways, ways that I just can't take anymore. Something's changed in me this time." Deena looked more to her sister than Marsh for understanding. Still, Harper said nothing.

"Oh? You're a changed person? Elevated? Above killing to earn your living?"

"Yes."

"Humpf. I know of a little house in the mountains that is full of reasons why I find that to be bulls.h.i.+t. You know the house that I mean, yes? The old family abode? I understand things went on there, that prove you're still willing to do the job," Marsh said. "Don't tell me you haven't got the stomach or the skill for it, 'cause you really laid into those men. Oh, and the train? Do we want to talk about how unwilling you were to kill those men?"

Harper finally spoke. "So you went ahead and killed people even though you've been telling everyone you've changed?" Through the years, Deena had confided in Harper about the Shadow Energy, and the toll it took. She'd broken down numerous times describing the feeling of helplessness as her will slowly lost out to the power that pulsed through her body. Usually it was immediately after she'd killed someone, because the further from the event she got, the less it seemed to weigh on her mind. The fact that Harper chose to forget the pain it caused Deena, especially during the current conversation, made matters worse.

"I didn't have a choice. They were trying to kill me and they were going to kill you." Deena turned back to Marsh. "Did you send those men to bring me back, or to test me?" Deena asked.

Marsh's oily voice was calm and soothing. Deena could feel something inside of her melting just a little as he spoke. "My dear, I've loved you and your sister like you were my own children. I've loved you better than your own father. Where was he all these years?" He kicked a tennis ball lightly and watched it roll before continuing.

"You were testing me. You wanted to see if you could push me back to the way I was, didn't you?"

"Young lady, I've known what you were since the day we met in the woods. If you think I was going to give up on an instrument of destruction like you so easily, you're dumber than I thought."

"You knew? How? I didn't know what I was," Deena said.

"A girl gets in a fight and shards of blackness poke out of her skin, I do a little investigating. I ask questions. But undoubtedly, I see how I can put that power to work for me and my organization." Marsh looked back over the city. "But if you aren't planning on staying, I'm afraid our family will have to break up in a big, ugly way. I'm fond of you. But I'm not that fond of you."

Stanley came in the room and slammed the door behind him. "The rest of the men are here." He avoided looking over at Marsh.

"Which men?" Harper asked.

"All of the men."

63.

Morgan squinted into the sighting scope and watched the scene unfold in the office 1.3 miles away. He watched the sisters pace back and forth in front of Marsh as he sat at his desk. They all periodically looked over at the office door, and Morgan had to wonder how many of the crime boss's minions were trying to bust in.

Once the feds took her away in their car, Morgan a.s.sumed she was going to jail and not coming back. Still, here she was.

He was positive that he had managed to at least shoot the little witch girl in the arm. Still, here she was.

Deena was consistently defying Morgan's expectations and it was getting on his nerves.

"Come on, you've got to admit this is the perfect opportunity to get in good with Marsh," Brandt said. "He's stuck, no one else is coming through for him. His guards are incompetent. Imagine the reward. He wants them gone and you can make that happen, no problem."

Morgan stepped away from the window and looked past Brandt around the empty office. No one would bother him, if he finished before the others showed up.

He flipped open the battered old suitcase and began piecing together his rifle. He stared out the window at the building that housed Marsh's office as he worked. The weapon nearly put itself together, parts slid into place from rote memory, not requiring his actual attention. He could feel the cold metal form into the gun, smell the welcome scent of oil. Without magnification, he could only see the distant building, not the people inside.

"So we're doing this again?" Mr. Hector was leaning on the suitcase the next time Morgan looked back. "Is this a regular thing now? He looked around the room. Where's everyone else?" He nodded at Brandt and scowled a bit. Brandt looked away.

Once he'd completed the weapon, Morgan flipped down the tripod and planted it on the windowsill. He put his shoulder to the stock and peered through the lens. He found the giant window of Marsh's office easily. He zoomed in on the figures still standing much as he'd left them, still talking.

"You know what he wants you to do," Brandt said. "He told you to bring her back, or kill her. And her sister. Now is the best time to do that. Nothing is stopping you."

"Ahem," the little teddy bear cleared his throat.

Brandt looked down. "You're going to stop him?" The man chuckled.

"Here's the glitch in your logic, Brandt." Morgan didn't move away from the gun. "He wanted me to make sure she came back, and she's back."

"Semantics. He wanted you to bring her back into the fold, back to work. She obviously isn't planning on working for Marsh again."

Morgan turned at the sound of footsteps in the lobby of the office. He paused, tempted to pull the pistol under his s.h.i.+rt. He quickly realized it was no one who could affect his work here and turned back to the window.

"You don't think I can stop you?" his mother asked.

"Great. The whole d.a.m.n peanut gallery's going to make an appearance," Brandt said.

Morgan adjusted the scope for an even closer view, making Deena's head fill the entire circle. He could see the scratches and cuts on her face and neck in great detail.

"She doesn't deserve this Morgie," his mother said. "She's got a second chance here and you can't stop that. You're telling me you never wanted to start over?"

"This is him starting over, b.i.t.c.h." Brandt's voice was gruff and louder than it needed to be. Morgan looked away from his scope long enough to see Brandt get in his mother's face. "He was a milquetoast until I plucked him out of the sewer you raised him in and made something of him."

Another voice drifted in from the outer office. "That's c.r.a.p. He was a p.u.s.s.y in college when I met him and I walked all over him until the day I walked out." Nadine said. "So whenever you made him into the magical love G.o.d we see today, it was way after that."

"I meant it metaphorically, wh.o.r.e. I meant that I pulled him out of the sewer where he was raised, metaphorically. Christ, did you actually graduate from that college, or was it too hard to study when you were on your knees all the time?" Brandt turned his attention from Morgan's mother to the voice in the hall.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!.

The monkey with the cymbals rolled in a circle and bared its teeth at Brandt. "Jacka.s.s!" It whirled around again.

"I don't think there's really any need for name calling," Morgan's mother said. "We all want to make our point, let's just be civil about it."