[21] DENIAL

Jane

The whole world was a jumble of infinite variables and possible futures, but in all of them, Rhys loved me. Words I wanted to hear, but not when they sounded too close to a good-bye.

His hands shook as he guided me toward the ballroom and I wouldn't admit how much I needed him as a pillar. My knees still threatened to buckle, my steadiness wavering under the weight of Rhys' expectations.

I couldn't look at him, and instead, my attention fell on the circle of rope tied to a belt loop. What I wanted was to beg him to stop this, stop reminding himself of the things that could destroy him. The closer he kept him, the less likely he was to ever overcoming them. He had to be able to. Natalie's fate would not be Rhys'.

It couldn't be.

"She's by the ice sculpture," Rhys said, pointing out the art piece of mixed media. A stake rose out of it and the ice, food colored, was the flame licking at the ice witch. The whole thing was under-lit, purple and green LED lights crashing through it. Food was laid out beneath it, desserts topped with thick red syrups or served in desert cups presenting gummy worms and cookie tombstones.

The band on stage, dressed as raisins with white gloves, played a medley I could now clearly tell was just an endless stream of horror movie scores.

Because obviously what I needed in my life was the Jaws soundtrack raising my blood pressure.

Dun...dun..Dun..dun..dunDundunDunDunDnDnDnDnD!

Finally, I spotted Bia.

"Chatting up Catwoman. I should have known," I said.

The black vinyled stranger laughed at something, champagne flute in hand tipped toward Bia's glass of punch.

"So, you're out of town, too? Where did you manage to—" she stopped, catching my eye "—I'm so sorry. You'll have to excuse me."

Apology and vague disappointment etched into her face, Bia slunk away from the catsuit curves and over to us.

"You found her," she mused, looking past me to Rhys.

He shrugged. "She found me."

"Not that you're a semanticist," I said, "where's Lucas?"

On cue, Lucas appeared with a plate full of delicate finger foods. He eyed Rhys wearily, leaving me standing between them.

"Oh, Rhys is back," Lucas said, possibly unenthusiastically, but that would suggest Lucas had any inflection at all. His eyes flicked from me to Rhys, who honestly looked a little like he might strangle our Professor Plum on the spot.

"So I am," Rhys said, "are you going to volunteer some explanations or do I have to persuade you?"

"Please do not start a fight at this party," I whispered, though there was a chance that was part of Rhys' grand plan. He could have had a reason to get us all kicked out.

Lucas pursed his lips, fighting and failing not to shrink under Rhys' expectant stare. 

"Where would you like me to start?" Lucas asked.

"You could explain why we were not the only people looking for you," Rhys offered.

Bia looked between them, gesturing to Lucas with her punch glass.

"Wait, who? Incendiary?" Bia asked, "is that who we're talking about?"

"Please feel free to elaborate on that," Rhys added.

Lucas sighed, pulling off his glasses as if poor vision might help him avoid looking at Rhys. He slowly polished the lenses against a purple pocket square.

"Incendiary is a company which buys other companies for the purpose of improving them or selling them to make a profit. There is a particular housing development firm from a particular city in Massachusetts that Incendiary meant to obtain."

I pulled my stole tighter around my shoulders. "Babylon? This is about Babylon?"

"Babylon was supposed to nearly collapse in the middle of controversy for accepting bribes... and then Incendiary would swoop in and acquire the dying company and rebrand," Lucas explained, "and obviously that didn't happen. The charges weren't as bad as they could've been. The bribery hadn't gone on that long. The company saved too much face. No Babylon for Incendiary. They didn't get what they were promised."

The only reason I had wound up in Cullfield was over a business transaction and then I sabotaged the conspiracy too early. My father whisked back to Boston to do damage control and reassure stockholders. Undoubtedly, the same figures behind everything in Cullfield were behind that, too. Babylon was always meant to turn into the center of controversy. I didn't cause it. I contained it.

"So, what, you're their unpaid intern?" Bia asked.

"No. I hacked their server. Because that's what I do." Lucas made a valiant effort to hold Rhys' gaze until he couldn't anymore, turning down to his plate instead.

"And they're driving around in your grandmother's car for particularly innocent reasons, I suppose?" Rhys posed a question that wasn't a question at all, just a detail to make Lucas squirm.

He did, giving up on eye contact to scan the room looking for an escape or an excuse or something.

Bia crossed her arms, looking more and more like the would-be killer she was dressed as. This conversation was turning more and more into a real game of Clue.

"So, how much do you know about us, then? Or did you stick to lo-fi methods and only read Rhys' journals?" Bia asked pointedly.

"What?" Rhys faltered, taken aback by a piece of news for the first time in this interrogation.

My face flashed hot in a realization of where Bia had learned that.

"You trust this guy more than me?" Bia turned to face me, jabbing questions my way instead of at Lucas.

"Of course I trust you, I just—"

"I'm not stupid and I can hear through truck canopies, Jane," Bia said, "and I knew he was up to something, I just didn't know how much."

Lucas, for his part, remained helplessly silent, neither confirming nor denying anything. I needed him. Lucas still had the information that I had to have.

"Okay, but wouldn't you rather Lucas be in our custody, then?" I pleaded.

"That doesn't change the fact that you don't want to tell me everything you know," Bia said.

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I couldn't speak the truth out loud. Bia -> DEAD.

I couldn't find my balance, not while she blinked expectantly at me. Maybe she was doomed. Maybe all my trust in Rhys didn't matter at all if we didn't want the same things. Maybe Lucas wasn't the surest bet, but at least he was pointed in the right direction.

All were points a more articulate person might make in better words. A fortune teller dealt Bia a hand of cards and twisted intentions for her.

She huffed, throwing up one hand.

"Fine," she said, handing off her drink to Rhys before storming away. Even though I was smaller, she could still slip through a crowd faster. I stepped on toes, bumped into elbows, and finally, someone stepped completely into my path.

"Champagne?"

A waiter held it out to me. His eyes met mine. Thin nose, thin mouth, nervous, but not enough for the glasses on his tray to shake. He already knew my face, and I already knew his. A pawn in a plot.

"What's in it?" I asked innocently, blinking up at him while he faltered for an answer. Before he could entirely blow his cover, I smiled. "Relax. A drink's a drink, right?"

Let him believe he had done his job. I took a flute from the tray. Just as I did, an arm swung across my shoulder and a hand lifted the flute from my fingers.

"You shouldn't be drinking," Rhys said, replacing the champagne with Bia's abandoned glass of punch.

The stiff not-waiter forced a terrible customer service smile and turned away, offering drinks to other patrons. He went as quickly as he came, blending into the crowd easily. There were too many people to disappear behind.

"Did you recognize him, or did you just assume that I'm making bad choices?" I asked, sipping the punch while Rhys steered me back the way I came.

"Little of column A, little of column B." Rhys said. He had to know I wasn't going to drink it. "And you genuinely shouldn't be drinking. Does not go with your medication."

"Some of my bad choices have saved your life, you know."

"And some of mine are going to save yours," Rhys quipped.

I tipped back the punch to help that comment go down. Actually booze would've made it an even easier pill to swallow. All I got instead was the zip of soda in the concoction, blood red with flecks of raspberry in it.

"Maybe she just needs a few minutes," Rhys offered, pouring out the champagne into a potted plant, tissue paper ghosts hanging from it.

"I didn't mean to..." I let my voice trail off, nodding instead. Space. That would fix it? I wanted to believe that Rhys' casual suggestions were as good as his dreams.

I couldn't help looking after her, but in the frame of the exit door stood a blonde woman in a pencil skirt.

My heart stopped.

"Rhys," I pointed and without explanation, he understood my panic.

"Shit," he mumbled.

"We have to find Bia," I said. What about the 'extras'? The vague threat echoed in my head. Would they try to use her as bait to get to me? Would they just get her out of the way?

"Jane, you can't," Rhys looked me over before shooting a glance back to the exit.

I shot him a look and he sighed.

"I'll go get her, okay? Please, just stay here." He rubbed his hands up and down my arms, one last moment of hesitation before elbowing his way out of the room.

Without him to lean on, the world was less steady. I stepped back, retreating to Lucas who must've just been glad to have the heat off him.

"It's all true, isn't it?" I asked.

He nodded slowly.

"What was in those pages you saw?"

Lucas wavered a moment, cracking a humorless smile.

"If I showed you pictures, would I be of any use to you?" he asked.

If I kept pushing everyone away, there would be no one but Lucas left.

"I promise I won't feed you to any sharks just yet," I said.

Resigned in a tired, defeated way, Lucas pulled out his phone, scrolling through his photo roll until he found the images of a journal. I swayed, feeling the heaviness catching up to me. How had it been hours since we left Boston and not days? Everything in me was exhausted.

"You're sure you want to know?" Lucas asked, pushing his glasses up his nose.

Yes. Natalie more than tortured me with unrevealed information. I was not in the mood to put myself through that again.

He handed it over.

I already knew most of the bullet points listed on the first page. Lucas already knew. The Datsun already died. The hourglass already led me to Elaine. A medium already vouched for the ominous bright lights. It almost didn't seem so bad, seeing it on paper.

"Tulips?" I asked.

"I think I know what that one means, actually," he said.

I flipped to the next image. The more I stared, the less sense any of it made. A jumble of details, but why so much water throughout? In the middle of the ocean was the least likely place to get hit by a car. The more I read, the more I felt underwater myself.

"Incendiary loses," I said.

Lucas shrugged. It wasn't my demise he was invested in, but it appeared on the same page, a connection implied.

His brow creased, looking over me.

"You look a little pale. When was the last time you ate?" Lucas picked a finger sandwich from his plate, offering it out to me. It seemed like no one came up with an effective way to make sandwiches spooky. It was just an ordinary miniature sandwich.

"I'm fine."

"Eat the damn sandwich." Lucas raised his eyebrows over the rims of his glasses. My stomach agreed with him. It didn't ache because I was the absolute worst protector of my loved ones. It wasn't that dramatic. I was just hungry.

It just felt really pathetic, feeling sorry for myself and nibbling on a tiny sandwich while everyone else enjoyed themselves. Everyone else came from near and far to experience Salem on Hallowe'en. I just came to find out a mysterious organization was interested in stalking and kidnapping me while I pushed my dearest friends away.

"I was trying so hard..." I swayed. I gave up nibbling in favor of stuffing the rest in my mouth.

Lucas' expression clouded behind his glasses as he watched me. My manners couldn't be that bad. My mother would be so disappointed.

"Jane?"

I nodded slowly. Swallowing was very necessary before speaking.

"Thank you..."

It figured that the most suspect person I currently knew was the one nearly force-feeding me and giving me such a concerned look. He didn't make sense. Lucas really had entwined himself into Incendiary somehow, but when his robotic façade dropped, all that was left was worry.

I twisted to look back to the exit, waiting for Rhys or Bia to reappear and my knees buckled from underneath me, Lucas catching me by the elbow.

"I don't wear heels. Almost never," I said, gripping Lucas' plum coat, but it took all my strength to push myself back upright.

Lucas set down his plate, abandoning it to keep both hands on me.

"It's okay. Just come with me. We'll find somewhere for you to sit down." Lucas pushed his glasses up against his shoulder, wrapping one arm around my waist to hold me up.

The world was so fuzzy.