Someone who wants to set a trap.
I hum quietly as we get farther from town, the trees growing up around us like vibrant pillars of golden flame and red blood. The fall colors are gorgeous, but all I can think of is the blood that might be spilled, and the fire that’snotmoving through me now. I had to leave Rhazan’s power back at the café, where it’s bound.
It’s just my strength I’m depending on now, and Nai Nai’s foresight. And Zixin’s ability to drive between the lines, but not much else. The kid needs to clock more hours behind the wheel before he’s going anywhere near a scooter.
When my phone alerts us to the upcoming turnoff, he slows down, and I scan for a place to stash the car without notice. My ability to see outside myself gives me a significant leg up in the parking department, so we quickly find a spot well layered with bushes but not too far from the road.
He puts it in park and looks over at me with wide eyes. “Are you sure I have to stay here?”
“He told me to come alone,” I say. “Plus, you’re my man in the chair.”
I stick my Bluetooth earbud in my left ear and smile at him before opening the door.
“Until I’m your man towing a two-hundred-something-pound dude,” he complains.
“Yes, that too. You’re essential!” I say with a bright smile as I open the back passenger door.
I sling the backpack full of traps over my shoulder and shut the door, then look at Ace. The blue streak in his hair falls over his ruffled brow. He tosses his head to flick it aside, then scrunches his face at me.
“You’re going to be okay, right?”
A twinge of fear strikes a chord in my chest. I suck down a quick breath to stifle the tightening of the band around my ribs, and then smile big.
“I’m going to kick their asses,” I say, then shut the door.
Before the doubt can take hold in my gut, I turn toward the trees and begin to hum Rhazan’s song. There’s no fire in my chest as the notes move through me, but they bring a sense of calm anyway.
I look at my phone to get back on the gravel road, and then call Ace. He picks up with a, “Pizza Dome, how may I take your order?”
“Extra-large cheese and pep with a Cherry Coke, please,” I respond without missing a beat.
“Blech,” he says on a retch. “Pepperoni? Don’t you know what that’s made of?”
“Deliciousness,” I say.
“Pig buttholes,” he replies.
“I’m pretty sure it’s more than just the butthole.”
“Yeah, but they’re in there. Once the butt has touched it, it can never be untouched by the butt.”
I laugh, and the tightness that was creeping into my chest starts to ease. I pick up the pace, ready to get the hard part over with. My senses scan ahead in space and time, finding the trailhead empty. I smile to myself.
“Time to rig the game.”
thirty-five
Sucrose of Doom
Gravel crunches around the bend of trees right when I finish placing my last surprise.
“Time?” I ask.
“Eleven-forty,” Ace replies in my left ear.
“Fucker was going to be early enough to do some of his own rigging,” I murmur as I stuff the last of the crystalized spheres in my coat pockets.
“He’s going to suspect you have, too,” he says.
