Chapter 22 — Ace

I woke up to sunshine streaming through a gap in the curtains and an arm draped across my torso. Blinking the light out of my eyes, I rolled over and found myself face to face with Josiah.

“What the hell?” I scrambled to get away.

Josiah mumbled in his sleep and tightened his grip, pulling me to his chest like a teddy bear.

“Josiah,” I hissed. “Wake up.”

His face scrunched up.

“Josiah,” I repeated, louder this time. “Josiah. Josiah!”

He cracked open an eye, seemed to realize there was no imminent danger, and went back to sleep.

I groaned and flopped back down onto the pillows.

“If you want to get up, you don’t have to wake me too,” Josiah said, his eyes still closed.

“I can’t when you’re keeping me in bed,” I said. “If you want to cuddle with someone, go call Cheryl.”

Josiah released me at lightning speed. “What happened last night? Why are you in my bed? Oh God, why aren’t you wearing clothes?”

I sat up and crossed my arms. “I could ask you the same thing.”

Panic flashed across his face as he took in what he was wearing, or rather, the lack of it. “I would blame the whole situation on the alcohol except I wasn’t drinking at the party.”

“Neither was I. In all likelihood, nothing happened because we would both remember if it did.”

“So we didn’t—”

“No.” I frowned. “At least I hope not.”

“That’s not reassuring, ghetto boy.”

“I’m sorry, who was the one who couldn’t keep his hands to himself last night?”

“It was a part of the deception,” Josiah defended. “You know, you’re a lot more bearable as a girl. Should I call Kaitlyn back here to play dress up?”

“Hilarious, Josiah.” I paused, remembering a conversation from the masquerade ball. “Do you have a way to contact Horace Whitaker?”

He reached across me to grab his phone. “I’ll handle the call.”

While Josiah chatted with the politician, I padded into the bathroom. The tile was freezing beneath my feet. As I was brushing my teeth, Josiah threw a pair of jeans at my head.

“Put some pants on,” he said.

I spat out the toothpaste. “I’ll change once I find where my own clothes went.”

“Hurry up then. It’s distracting.”

“It’s not like you don’t see guys like this in the locker rooms, or when you look in the mirror.”

“There’s a huge difference between you and me.”

“Yeah,” I quipped. “One of us is much better looking. Three guesses who.”

Josiah shoved me toward the closet. “Just get dressed. We’re meeting with Horace at noon. It’s already a quarter past eleven.”

I blinked. “We?”

“You’ll need me there to introduce you. He won’t recognize you from last night.”

At eleven thirty, we were in Josiah’s car, ready to go. Josiah entered the address of a coffee shop called Le Quotidien.

I tapped the screen. “Why did you choose to meet here? The name reminds me of long division.”

“That’s a quotient, genius. How did you get to high school with a brain like that?”

“My education was different from yours. It doesn’t mean I’m dumb.”

“Yes, in the real world, we’ll definitely need to know eight different ways to kill a person using our toes.”

I rolled my eyes. “You have been watching far too many martial arts movies.”

“You know what I mean. You won’t live past twenty if you stay in the Underground.”

“Seth lived past thirty just fine,” I said. “Speaking of which, isn’t meeting in a public place risky?”

“Obviously, you’ve never been to Le Quotidien.”

That was all he would say on the topic.

Le Quotidien ended up being a charming cafe wedged between two brick buildings, its wooden exterior looking out of place in the city.

Josiah smiled at a blonde waitress as we entered the shop. She giggled and played with her hair before going off to chat with one of her friends.

The man at the counter frowned at Josiah. “I would like you to avoid distracting my servers while they are at work.”

He had strawberry blonde hair and blue eyes that were a little at odds with his French accent.

“I apologize, sir,” Josiah said. “My friend and I would like to have your la clandestinité.”

“That is not on the menu today.”

“Surely you can make an exception. I’m meeting someone very important to me.”

The man frowned. “I will see what I can do. Have a seat for now.”

“What was that all about?” I asked. “I know a code phrase when I hear one.”

Josiah sat down in a chair close to the window. “I know your French vocabulary is sorely lacking, but do you know what the words quotidien and clandestinité mean?”

“Long division?”

“I fear for your brain cells,” Josiah said.

The waitress from earlier came by, and she was no longer smiling. “Come with me.”

She led us into a storage room within the kitchens and tried to lift a shelf. Josiah, who had chivalrous instincts that kicked in whenever a pretty woman was in need, rushed to help her. The two of them shifted it to the side, revealing an old trapdoor underneath.

“You know what to do from here,” she said, leaving us alone.

Josiah pulled on the silver ring. The trap door creaked open, revealing a set of steps that led down into darkness.

He made a grand gesture. “Ladies first.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Go ahead then. Don’t let me stop you.”

Josiah gave me a gentle shove. I pushed him back but started down the steps.

The room at the bottom resembled a 1920s club, complete with an open bar. The carpet was plush beneath my feet.

Horace Whitaker sat in the corner, his eyes glinting in the dim light. “Who is it? I’m warning you, I’m armed.”

He fumbled with a .25 caliber pistol with an inexperience that was laughable.

Josiah stepped down beside me. “Horace, you agreed to meet with him last night.”

“But I have never seen this boy in my life,” he said.

I shifted my voice to the breathy tone I had used at the ball. “But we were getting on so well.”

Horace gaped at me. “That was quite the disguise you had.”

I dropped my voice back to normal. “It was necessary to get into the ball.”

“Yes, I suppose Josiah’s parents would not have approved of him bringing a boy as his plus-one.”

“That’s an understatement,” Josiah muttered.

Horace squinted at me. “What’s your name? I doubt it’s Caela.”

“Ace,” I said.

“Ace Vasiliev?”

“Griffin, actually. I have my mother’s last name. We’re not here to talk about my family matters though.”

Horace sighed. “No, I suppose not.”

“How does Seth plans on tampering with the ballots on Election Day?” I asked. “No offense, but if we can keep his puppet out of office, we win the fight before it starts.”

“They threatened your family to keep you in line, right?” Josiah said.

The politician nodded.

“Regardless of who becomes president, what’s stopping the Underground leader from going after their family to get what he wants?”

“Would he do that?” I asked.

“You tell me, Ace.” Horace sounded tired. “What would you do? Whatever it is, Seth would probably do the same.”

The answer was obvious.

“I would,” I said. “Without hesitation.”

“Then we need another plan,” he said.

Josiah frowned. “What if you told everyone? There’s no way the legislators would give EAGLE more power, and the Underground can’t threaten all of Congress.”

“Our government is only human. Every person has a price.”

“Then what can we do?” I asked.

“A jury is made of ordinary citizens, chosen for their lack of bias,” Josiah said. “If we can bring the EAGLE director and Underground leader to court with enough evidence to convict them, the jury will put them away for good.”

“Are you suggesting we become vigilantes?”

He smirked. “Careful using big words, ghetto boy. I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.”

Horace laughed. “Ah, to be young again. I’m afraid I have to get going now. My brother-in-law has held the secret room for me long enough, and I have a meeting with my campaign manager in half an hour. If you need anything, leave a message with Louis at the counter.”

We left the secret room ten minutes after Horace to avoid arousing suspicion. Le Quotidien was bursting at the seams, a far outcry from the empty cafe we had seen on our way in.

The back of my neck prickled as we walked past the tables. I scanned the room, searching for potential threats, but everyone was engrossed in their own conversation.

“Where to now?” Josiah asked.

“Genevieve’s house,” I said.

Talking to her would help me get my thoughts straight. As we started driving, I noticed a black van behind us. It wouldn’t have been a cause for concern if it hadn’t stayed there for almost fifteen minutes. We were approaching a street called Briarwood.

“Turn left,” I ordered.

Josiah frowned. “I thought we were going to Genevieve’s house.”

“Do it!”

The car almost passed the intersection, but Josiah managed a sharp turn that took us into the street. The black van followed us through.

“It’s definitely following us,” I said. “You wouldn’t happen to know how to shake off a tail, would you?”

Josiah snorted. “The only car chases I’ve seen were on TV. I should be asking you.”

The black van sped up, far surpassing the speed limit in the neighborhood. Josiah slammed down the gas pedal to stay ahead, but the van was gaining on us.

It wasn’t trying to catch up to us. It was trying to run us over. I did a quick assessment of the van compared to Josiah’s expensive sports car. There was no doubt which vehicle would receive the worse end of the deal if a collision occurred.

I opened the glove compartment. “Is there a gun here, Josiah?”

He stared at me like I had fallen from outer space.

“I’ll take that as a no,” I muttered.

“Actually,” he said, “there may be a rifle in the trunk from the last hunting trip. But there’s no way—”

I leaped into the backseat. “Don’t you dare slow down. We have to stay ahead of that van.”

Josiah pushed the speed to eighty miles as I flicked open my pocket knife and stabbed it into the seat.

He glanced back at me. “That’s expensive leather upholstery! What do you think you’re doing?”

I began sawing a square. “Saving our lives.”

It took far longer than I wanted, but I was able to make a hole into the trunk. I reached my arm through, feeling around for the rifle. My fingers closed around a steel barrel. I could have cried in relief as I pulled it through the hole.

“Assuming no one’s touched it, the rifle should have five rounds,” Josiah said.

Five shots. Only five shots to get it right. I rolled down the window and leaned out, swinging the gun to my shoulder. The crunch of gravel under the wheels made it hard to keep steady. The tinted front windows didn’t help either. I took a deep breath and aimed as best I could.

Loud cursing came from the van when I pulled the trigger. The car swerved. I had hit the driver, but it wasn’t a fatal shot. Shadows shifted inside as people moved about.

Bullets flew back at us in response, peppering the windshield. I ducked back inside to avoid being shot. Glass flew from the broken windows. Josiah’s knuckles turned white on the steering wheel.

Four shots left.

I poked my head out again, aiming at a person’s hand. Sending a prayer to all the gods I knew of, I pulled the trigger. The hand went slack as the bullet hit, and their gun dropped to the ground.

Pain exploded in my head. The rifle almost fell as my hand shot to my temple, my fingers coming away streaked with red.

My head spun. The wound wasn’t deadly, but I was losing enough blood to put me on the verge of seeing double.

I pulled the trigger, but the car jolted and made my aim waver. The bullet grazed the side of the van, missing the people inside by a wide margin. It was a wasted shot. Only three left now.

Josiah met my eyes through the mirror. “You’re covered in blood.”

I pressed a hand to the wound. “Just a scrape. I’ll be fine.”

“You look like you’re about to pass out. Maybe if we surrender, they’ll be able to give you medical attention.”

“No!” The word burst from my mouth. “If you slow down, we’re dead.”

“We won’t last much longer in this car,” Josiah said. “I forgot to fill up the tank.”

“What? Why didn’t you think of mentioning this sooner?”

“I didn’t think a black van would chase us across the city.” He put on another burst of speed. “Get ready to run. I’ll stop at the grove around the corner. We can lose them in the trees.”

I took a deep breath and clutched the gun. The stock was slick with my blood. Josiah gave me a countdown as he slammed on the breaks.

I took off running like every demon in existence was at my tail. Josiah lagged a little behind. The crop of trees stood several yards away.

My foot caught the edge of a rock, and I went flying. The rifle tumbled out of my hands as I hit the ground hard enough to knock the breath from my lungs. I scrambled after it.

Josiah hauled me to my feet. “Forget the gun! We have more pressing issues.”

My fall had given the Underground enough time to catch up to us. As they drew closer, I realized that it wasn’t only hitmen this time.

Will raised his gun. “Stop right there, Spades. Get on your knees, hands behind your head. That goes for the both of you.”

I complied. What else was I supposed to do when there was a weapon pointed at my chest? Josiah did the same next to me, struggling to catch his breath.

“Are we going to kill them?” asked a woman with red hair. “I’ve got tinctures of belladonna if that’s the case.”

“Venom,” I said, “you have to listen—”

Will fired off a shot. “Silence!”

I flinched as the bullet whizzed past my shoulder. He walked closer to me, gun pointed at my face.

“You’ve caused me a lot of trouble,” Will said. “My boss ordered me to bring you in alive if possible, but even he has to expect that, as well as I do my job, it’s not possible sometimes.”

He called over his shoulder, “You can give the belladonna to the other boy, Venom. I’ll take care of Spades.”

Fear fluttered in my chest like a sparrow. Jackal and Dagger dragged Josiah forward. A smile crept across Venom’s face.

“Stop!” I said. “You have what you want. Just let him go.”

“Sorry, Spades.” Jackal shrugged. “You know the boss hates loose ends.”

“Josiah won’t tell—”

“I never thought you could care about anyone but yourself.” Will gave me a curious look. “As touching as your concern is, I would be more worried about yourself.”

He grabbed my jaw in a bruising grip and pressed the barrel of his gun against my forehead. I dropped my gaze.

Will gave a tug that almost made me keel over. “Look at me, Spades. I want to see you understand how my brother felt when you did this to him.”

The sparrow in my chest tried to crawl up my throat. Had anyone thrown up from fear before? If not, I was close to being the first.

I spat in his face as he cocked his gun, one last act of defiance that made me feel a little better. Will swelled with anger.

Popping sounds came from a blue house to my left. I couldn’t turn my head to see, but I got a good idea when Will shoved me back and cursed. When he pulled the trigger, he was shooting to kill. I rolled out of the way.

The popping noises sounded more like gunshots as the people drew closer. There was a steady stream of bullets coming from an open window on the second floor. Several figures loped across the lawn like wolves.

“Should we engage, sir?” Hemlock called out.

Her blonde hair had blown across her face, but that didn’t stop her from firing at the attackers.

Will shot at the window. “Fall back to the van. It’s too risky with a sniper around.”

The assassins and hitmen edged toward the road. I scooped up the rifle and fired the last few rounds in their direction.

The gun was heavier than I remembered. The weight was enough to pull me off balance. I stumbled backward, bracing myself for a hard fall.

“Ace!” Josiah caught me before I hit the concrete.

The people that had driven away the Underground approached.

Josiah looked over his shoulder. “He needs help! Oh God, Ace. How can there be so much blood?”

I smiled at him. “You know, I think that’s the first time you’ve called me by my real name.”

The world blurred, and I sunk into the sweet embrace of unconsciousness.