A Local Habitation

TWENTY-EIGHT

I WOKE SLOWLY, fighting every inch of the way. The more awake I was, the more I hurt . . . but I was alive. That would have to do. I’ve always run myself hard—it’s one of my worst flaws—but I’d never tried two major acts of blood magic that close together before, and I was starting to think I’d blown some sort of internal fuse. My headache was worse than ever. I groaned, raising my right hand to my temple, and the last of the comfortable darkness dissolved, leaving me inarguably awake.

Damn.

“Toby? Are you all right?” I didn’t recognize the voice. That wasn’t surprising. I barely recognized my name.

“Is she awake?” This voice was higher, although not high enough to be April. I sorted through the possible speakers, settling on Gordan. That wasn’t good, given my suspicions.

“Her pulse is steady,” said a third voice. This one I recognized: Tybalt. Once I allowed that moment of recognition, I realized I was on my back with my head on someone’s leg, and that something cool and damp was pressed against my forehead. Probably a washcloth. “I think we just need to wait.”

“I’ll wake up fast if someone gets me some coffee,” I said, not opening my eyes.

“Toby!” That was Alex. Oh, good. He’d stayed not-dead. “You’re okay!”

“No, I’m annoyed. There’s a big difference.” The inside of my mouth tasted like dried blood. Yuck. “Can I get that coffee?”

Shuffling footsteps on what sounded like tile. “Toby, this is Elliot. Can you hear me?”

“I’m answering you, aren’t I?” All this talking was making my headache worse. I was starting to seriously question the wisdom of not being dead.

“She’ll be fine if she doesn’t do anything else stupid,” said Gordan, tone making it quite clear that she wasn’t harboring delusions about my intelligence.

I considered my options. Movement was out—my head wasn’t allowing any argument—but I could open my eyes if I was willing to deal with the pain. I’d have to do it eventually.

When I worked at Home, I woke up with hangovers on a regular basis. Most of them made me feel like my skull had liquefied. This was worse. The light was too strong, and the colors were too bright. I winced, forcing my eyes to stay open as I looked around. My head was in Tybalt’s lap. Elliot and Alex were standing nearby, and Gordan was off to one side, packing things back into her first aid kit.

“How do you feel?” asked Alex.

“Like I’ve been through a meat grinder. Am I getting that coffee?”

“You lost a lot of blood,” said Gordan. “That’s twice I’ve had to tape you back together. Don’t make me do it again.”

“I’m not planning to.” Especially since I was pretty sure she wanted to take me apart herself.

“Good.” She picked up her kit and turned, starting for the stairs.

“No going off alone,” said Elliot.

She stopped, scowling. “I need to get back to work.”

“Take Alex.”

“No,” I said quickly. “I need to talk to him.”

“Well, I have work to do.” Gordan glared at us all.

“So go do it,” I said, hoping I sounded tired enough that she’d believe I was slipping—and that she really was our killer. I wanted to be sure before I confronted her. I also wanted to be able to stand under my own power. “Call April if anything happens.”

“Your concern is touching,” she said, and flounced up the stairs.

Elliot turned to me once she was gone, frowning. “You let her go off alone.”

“Yeah, I know.” I tilted my head back, looking up at Tybalt. “Help me sit up?”

Without a word, he slid his hands under my back and scooped me into a sitting position. I pulled away, managing to support myself for almost a second before my arm buckled and I fell back against his chest. He put an arm across my shoulders, holding me there.

“Stay,” he said, firmly.

“You got it,” I said, looking around the room. We were still in the basement. A thick bandage had been wrapped around my left wrist, streaks of red staining the white. Tybalt and I were sitting on the cot where we’d placed Terrie’s body. That made sense. It was available real estate now.

“You were bleeding so much we didn’t dare move you,” said Elliot. “If Tybalt hadn’t told us you did it to yourself, we’d have thought you were attacked. I’ve never met anyone who cuts themselves open as often as you do.”

“It’s a talent of hers,” said Tybalt.

“Not a good one,” said Elliot, picking up a mug and offering it to me. “Drink this.”

“Coffee?” I took the mug, peering into it. It wasn’t coffee. Not unless the description had been rewritten to include “green and sticky.”

“No,” said Elliot. It was good to know that I didn’t need to add hallucinations to my list of symptoms. “Just drink it.”

“I don’t drink green things.”

“I made it. Drink it.”

That didn’t strike me as being an incentive. “What is it?”

“One of Yui’s recipes,” he said. It was the first time he didn’t flinch when he said her name. “It’s good for headaches. She used to give it to Colin when he stayed human too long.”

I peered into the cup. If it tasted anything like it smelled, I was going to be very unhappy. Still . . . “Does it work?”

“Colin said it did.”

“Right.” I was an excellent target in my current condition, and I couldn’t afford to turn down anything that might help. Squeezing my eyes shut, I chugged the contents of the cup.

It didn’t taste as bad as it looked. It tasted worse. Stars exploded behind my eyes as the mug slipped out of my hands to shatter on the floor. For a moment, I was halfway convinced that I’d been poisoned; then my headache withdrew, so abruptly that it left me dizzy. The ache in my wrist and hand seemed to worsen, filling the vacuum, but that was the sort of pain I could deal with. I’m used to it.

I opened my eyes. The world snapped obligingly into focus. “What was in that stuff?”

“Pennyroyal, cowslips, and wisteria, mostly,” Elliot said. “Are you all right?”

“No, but I’m feeling better.” Sometimes I hate our inability to thank each other. Tap-dancing around the phrase gets old, especially when I’m tired.

“Good,” said Tybalt, removing his arm.

I leaned back on my good hand, taking a breath. I still felt queasy, but it was nowhere near as bad. Straightening, I turned to Alex. He looked surprisingly good for someone that had recently been dead.

“We need to talk,” I said.

He nodded, slowly. “I think you’re right. Was I really . . . ?”

“As a doornail. How are you feeling?”

Alex shuddered, saying, “I don’t know. It feels like part of me is missing.”

“Part of you is missing, Alex.” I shook my head. “I don’t think Terrie’s coming back.” He looked stricken. I pushed on anyway, asking, “Do you remember anything about what happened?” You’d better, because I can’t do that again, I added, silently.

Alex licked his lips, looking between me and Elliot before he said, “I don’t usually remember what happens to Terrie.”

“But this time you do?”

“A . . . a little bit.” He grimaced. “She felt awful when you left. So she went for a walk.”

“Did she see anyone?”

“Well, yeah.” He sounded slightly surprised. “April. She said Gordan wanted me. Wanted Terrie.”

“So Terrie followed her?” I asked. I felt Tybalt stiffen beside me.

Alex hesitated. Then, slowly, he nodded.

“Elliot. April is the interoffice pager, right? That’s her job?”

“Yes, exactly,” said Elliot, starting to look as uncomfortable as I felt. He was connecting the lines. I could see it in his eyes.

“So all of you, you just follow her whenever she asks you to.”

“Well . . . yes.”

“I see.” At least I thought I did, and I didn’t like what I was looking at. Maybe April couldn’t have been the one to kill Peter . . . but nothing said Gordan had to be working alone. “Where did she take Terrie?”

“The generator room.” Alex paused, expression twisting. “Where Peter died.”

“Then what happened?”

“I . . . we . . .” Alex closed his eyes, starting to talk more quickly. “She said to wait, and she vanished. And the lights went out.”

“Just the lights in the generator room?”

“There were still lights on in the hall. Terrie has . . . Terrie had really good night vision, and she saw something in the shadows. You said not to go off alone. That’s when she realized she was alone.”

“Is that when Terrie ran?”

“No. She called for Gordan—she’s always hanging out in weird places, it could have been her—but she didn’t answer, and that was sort of scary. So Terrie ran.” He was talking faster and faster, like he could outrun what he was saying. “Whoever it was followed her into the hall, so she kept running. Terrie made it outside.” A sigh. “She thought she was safe.”

“What happened then?” He started to shake, not answering. “Alex?”

He didn’t stop shaking, but started to talk again, voice dull: “Something hit her from behind. There was this pain in her throat and wrists and then in her chest . . . and then it was over.” He raised his head. “Then you were kissing me.”

Tybalt growled. I put a hand on his knee, signaling him to be still. Things were coming together with fast, fierce finality. April had given me the last piece I really needed; I’d just been too distracted to see it. When she came to Colin’s office, she said I was going to find out what caused them to remain isolated from the network. And when Jan died, she said there were no more reboots. She didn’t want to know why they were dying, because she already knew why.

She wanted to know why they weren’t coming back to life.

“Is that everything?” I managed, trying not to let him see how stunned I felt.

“Yes,” he said, with a small, unsteady nod.

“All right.” I slid to my feet, grabbing the edge of the cot and holding on until the world stopped swaying. Tybalt moved to catch my arm, but I held up my hand, motioning him off. When I was sure I wouldn’t fall, I let go and took a cautious step. My balance held. Maybe I wasn’t up to running for my life, but I could walk, and that was a start. “Where’s April’s room?”

“You shouldn’t—” Alex reached for my shoulder, and stopped when he saw me glare. Tybalt’s snarl probably didn’t hurt, either.

“Don’t mess with me, okay? I’m so not in the mood.”

“Sorry,” he said, taking a step backward.

“One more time: where is April’s room?” Gordan was supposedly going to work on April’s hardware. She’d be there, and we could catch them both before they realized we’d worked things out. This could be over. It could finally be over.

Elliot sighed. “Behind Jan’s office.”

“Can you take me there?”

“We can just call April,” said Alex. “She’ll come here.”

“She always comes to us. It’s time for us to go to her.” My arm was throbbing and I was dizzy enough that the world blurred if I moved too quickly. My resources were running out. Whether we solved this thing or not, I was nearly done, because if I went much longer there wouldn’t be anything left of me. “This needs to end. Come on.”

It was time for us to get some answers. All I could do was hope that we weren’t already too late.