CHAPTER FORTY FOUR


It looked glorious, sturdy, and a portrait of white lights against a nightsky
background.


I'd lived there, breathed there, and been imprisoned there.


And now, I was about to break my way back in.


Was I ready for this? Could I handle this?


I think the right question to ask was if the mansion was ready for me? Could
it handle my return?


The mansion broke into four wings, each was a house of its own, and they
connected to the main level through glass walls, tiled floors, and marble
counters. A gym connected the second and first wing. A gaming room connected the
first to the fourth wing. An indoor pool connected the fourth to the third wing.
And a chapel, complete with it's own sanctuary, connected the third to the
second wing.


That's where we needed to head and that's where my eyes stared steadfastly
towards.


The protective wall came to rest just underneath the second floor, enough for
the windows to all be seen, even the loungers that rested on the patios had
their own candlelight to proclaim their presence from where I now stood.


"Maya." Jace said behind me.


"We traveled through your past and now we're going to mine." I murmured,
huskily.


He moved to stand beside me, gazed where I gazed, but only said, "We need to
go over the plans—"


"There's a backdoor. I know the code. The gardener used it to water the
plants and gardens in the backyard. Marcus didn't want to see a red waterspout
in the backyard so they put it outside the wall. We can get in through that
door." I said faintly, cutting him off.


Jace stood a moment, then said, "Oh." He laughed, wryly, "And here I had an
elaborate plan to climb the wall, poison the guard dogs, and shoot tranquilizers
at the guards and their semi-automatic rifles."


"I forgot about the door until just now." I ignored his sarcastic tone.


"Are you going to be okay?" Jace paused to ask.


"No." I murmured to myself.


I remembered sitting on that patio as Marcus left to pray in his sanctuary. I
remember sitting just where I watched now and waiting, lying to myself the
entire time, that I couldn't jump those walls and keep running.


"This is wrong." I whispered, Marcus' mansion lighted across the barren
field.


"What's wrong?" Jace asked with his gun in hand. He'd come to start. He'd
come to yield me forward.


"This." I answered swiftly and gestured to the house. "Everything. This is
all wrong."


Jace's hand sheathed his gun in place and hung loose at his side.


"The book's in there, right?" He asked.


"Yes." But that wasn't what I meant.


"Then we're good to go. Let's go." He turned back.


"Where are we going, Jace?" I stopped him and he turned back.


"What do you mean?" Jace played dumb. "We're going in there."


"At the end of the day, what are we doing? Where is this all going to take
us?"


Jace stared, studied, and then scoffed, "Are you serious? You're playing
conscience now? After everything I've told you."


"How many have you lost?" I turned my back to the house and studied Jace in
turn. "Really? How many have died for you?"


"I'm not doing this." Jace said firmly and turned to leave. "Get it together
because we're going in."


"I haven't lost anyone." I called out, unheeding his warning. "We could find
Munsinger. You guys don't have his phones tapped? Really? Can you not hack into
his computer files?"


Jace didn't turn back, but he didn't leave either.


"Let's find Munsinger. Let's hide my nephew. Let's—" I don't know where this
came from, but it came and it came urgently.


"What?!" Jace snarled as he turned on me. "Let's what, Maya? Forget that
another shipment is going to come through and all those kids are going to get
sold off for adoption or to some pervert who doesn't have the balls to ask for a
date. The phones are tapped! It's how we even knew about you. They're tapped,
but they're in code. That's why we need the books. That's why we have to go in
there and take them."


He quieted, but murmured a beat later, "Killing the head doesn't kill the
body. I tried it before. Another head just gets grown back on. The monster isn't
killed. We can't do it that way. Hell, if you want, when we're done, I'll give
you the knife and you can do the job yourself, but not now. Not yet."
"The
DEA has pulled everything back—"


"No!" Jace cut me off. "The DEA has pulled funding, but that's it. I'm not
sanctioned for this either, but I'm still going to do it. They'll turn their
backs on us, knowing that everyone is still proceeding, but they can't be party
to any more body piles."


I stiffened and asked, hoarsely, "What are you sanctioned for?"


Jace sighed, regarded the house behind my back, and said softly, "I'm
supposed to just kill him. They think that'll fix it. It's their quick and easy
way to save some dirty work, but it doesn't get done that way. We have to go the
whole nine yards. We have to choose our sacrifices and choose what we're not
willing to sacrifice."


It was his words that caught me. It was the way that they were put together
that stabbed me in the gut. I reeled, but held firm, and whispered, "And if it
was me?" I saw his first reaction and headed him off, "If I decoded the books
and figured it out, what then? If my purpose was done, would you sacrifice me,
if need be?"


His shoulders slumped. He stood as he had moments before, but I saw the air
of debate disappear.


I didn't want to know why, but he told me, "If I had to. If it came to you or
the kids, yes. I'd sacrifice you and I'd hope that you'd do the same for
me."


When is too much, too much?


When do I stand up with the help of God's hand?


Raw, I asked, "You've buried how many? When are you going to lose your
soul?"


Maybe it was too much or maybe it was just the right words.


Jace reeled from my words, but he never moved.


Softly, he said, "This is my job. This is what I do. I don't—I had a child,
but I found out too late. That was my window for a life. I don't have that
anymore. You didn't sign up for this gig, I got that, but—"


"Neither did you!" I cried out. "It found you. You weren't even undercover
when you found out about your son. It wasn't until after—you lost your son, you
buried his mother, and you lost your brother. You're willing to sacrifice me
too?"


Jace stared, perplexed, and exclaimed, "Where is this coming from?"


I pointed behind me and said heatedly, "That house represents everything in
my life that I don't want to be a part of. That house held me prisoner for five
years—albeit, I lied to myself, but…I don't want to go back there. I don't
want…"


I caught a glimpse of the future and I didn't want to go there.


I didn't want to lose my brother.


I didn't want to walk away from Munsinger.


I didn't want to risk my nephew.


Because I knew that if I made those decisions, knowingly, and still walked
this path—I wasn't human any longer.


"I don't feel human." I whispered, finally. "Jace, I don't feel anything
anymore."


Jace closed his eyes. And I knew that he felt the same way.


Huskily, I asked, "How long?"


He looked back up and I asked again, "How long have you felt this way?"


"Until you came." He confessed. Naked.


Green valleys. Apple blossom trees. And day lilies at my feet. That wasn't my
future. I wouldn't live with a white-picket fence around my sun-baked yellow
tiled home.


"We're going to go into his home." I whispered. "It wasn't even hard to get
here. Getting through Merit—everything—I should be on a bed, crying, dryheaving,
and yet—we're just nonchalantly planning to raid five years of life."


I'd never have the green valleys, apple trees, day lilies, or a perfect
picketed house. In fact, I never wanted any of them. But I know that I wanted
the choice to not have them.


I didn't want to be so desensitized from life that the breeze no longer
entered my lungs. That I didn't just walk through it and not appreciate the
oxygen which filled my lungs.


"I executed a guy back there." I murmured. "I shot him in the forehead,
just…an execution. I didn't want to deal with him and I needed to get around
him, so I shot him where I knew it would kill him instantly." I took a deep
breath, turned back to my old home, and said, "I should've felt something when
that happened, but I didn't. I thought you were in trouble and I wanted to get
to you. I wasn't even defending myself, Jace. I was just killing. That's who I'm
becoming…"


"Like me." Jace supplied the rest, ruefully.


"It was efficient." I bit out. "I wanted to be efficient when I killed a man.
What's wrong with that statement?!"


"Maya."


"Don't. Don't even."


"I told you about Kendra because—"


"You told me about Kendra to make it alright that I'm willingly letting my
friend die so that I might save my nephew. That's why you told me about Kendra.
It wasn't some freak of nature guilty conscience that came back to haunt you.
You've already lost your soul. You were manipulating me to do what you wanted.
You don't want to spend time looking for Munsinger and you knew you could soften
me up with that story because I'd connect through my nephew. That's what you
were doing so don't tell me it's because you wanted me fully on board or
not."


"What? You want out now?"


I laughed shrilly and pointed out, "You didn't even deny it."


"What's there to deny?" Jace argued. "You come up here, see an old memory,
and suddenly you're got cold feet? Is that what this is about, because it's not
about you and me and our games."


"That's exactly what this is about!" I cried back. "I don't feel anything,
Jace! I have to feel something. I have to feel…we drive around with guns. More
than two per person. I am itching for my blade every other minute. This isn't my
life. I don't want this!"


"You don't have this!" Jace got in my face. "You're along for the ride. Fine.
Think of it that way, but I need you to finish this. I need you—"


"To stop a bunch more kids from getting stolen." I finished, numb.


Jace groaned in frustration and whirled away. "Do you not even get it? Do you
not even…Stephanie Collings was six. Her mom and dad were uneducated, poor, and
immigrants. They couldn't afford toothpaste much less bread for their five other
kids. Some guy with a nice smile and a respectable business suit approaches them
and offers to help out. Maybe it's a mission for the church, but he tells them
that little Stephanie could stay with another nice couple in town. They'd pay
for her. And mom and dad can visit all they want. What do you think? What would
you do if you're looking at your little girl who's eating half a piece of bread
for supper and you know she could get so much more in another house—and you can
visit. What would you do, Maya? What would anyone do?"


"Some of those kids might be going to good homes."


"It's not right!" Jace said heatedly. Passionately. "My son was taken from
me. That's not right. Any of these kids are taken from their families, their
moms and dads and their brothers and sisters. It's not right, even if—some of
these kids are getting sold to pedaphiles. Stephanie Collings was adopted,
legally, to a guy and transported over the border. She was raped every single
night for four years. She was videotaped and it's still on the internet.
Stephanie Collings is just another name of the eighty percent that aren't
legitimately getting adopted to good families. Eighty percent of just their
shipments. If I find my son—if—I don't know what I'll do. What if my son is with
a good family? That's not right either. What if he isn't? What if he's already
dead because twenty percent of that eighty percent don't live two years."


"All the more reason for me to save the souls that I can." I said softly, but
succinctly. "You're not going to save them, not all of them, so why are you
willingly letting someone else die? That's not right either, Jace."


The breeze shifted. It had raced away and now it turned, one eighty, and sped
full force to us. To me.


"I feel it, Jace. I feel it in my heart." And I did. I did more than I'd ever
felt before.


"What do you want from me?" Jace asked, harshly. "I have to go in there. I
have to get that book. I can't—we're not turning around now. We've come this
far, Maya. I'm not going back."


"I'm not asking that." And I wasn't. "But I can't—if I let my friend die,
what's the point? We can't sacrifice one for the many because that makes us God.
That's makes us what Marcus is and I won't do that."


"Maya."


"I might…"


"We don't have the funding anymore to find him, even if we could do a
retraction." Jace sighed, brokenly. "We just don't have that anymore. They cut
everything."


"But you just said that everyone is still proceeding. That's what you said."
I pressed.


"Yeah, but…"


"How many do you have? How many agents do you have in place?"


Jace shook his head, "They're in position. They all have their own
missions."


"But are they part of your team?"


"Yeah, but they also went in on their own missions too. Their orders are to
help if they're needed and if they can break their cover. Only if they ca—"


"So make them. Make them want to break their covers."


"Some of them are ordered—like Oscar and Scott should be ordered back, but…I
can't make the other ones who are still doing legit jobs to break cover and help
us."


"Why not?"


"Because they have their own jobs to do. Like Stirley. Stirley's never going
to go back. Stirley's always going to stay in Mallon's camp. He's going to try
and find Cassandra. That's his mission now. He's like me, we never go back. Our
lives are the field now." Jace faded, perplexed. "Where is this coming from? I'm
still not—"


"Because I walked up here and I saw a place that I vowed never to go back
to." I said clearly. "Because in the midst of all this craziness, my head got
lost and I shot a guy the quickest way I could. That's not right, Jace. My life
was—it was small-block bullies, poker games, and making sure Cora wasn't in
trouble. It was visiting family like Musninger and being entertained at how
stupid he can be about the world. I am partly a wanderer, I get that, but…how
can you want this life? How can you not want something else?"


Jace stood powerful in that moment. I had a glimpse of the child he must've
been as he stood for another beating from his father. He had that same look, the
look that he must've had back then. Stubborn resilience that wouldn't break, no
matter what torture he saw coming.


I didn't expect a response, but I got one that broke my heart.


Quietly, he revealed, "Everything that I've had has been stripped from me. I
know too much, Maya. I can't ever be a normal person. I know too much."


And so did I. That's why I'd never have that perfect home with the puppy and
May baskets to place before my neighbors' doors.


It was frivolous and yet, that was a life that Jace had wanted for Taryn. I
understood that.


"I understand why you wanted Taryn to have a better life. Why you wanted her
in the spotlight. I get that. I really do." My heart thumped. "But I want to
give that back to Munsinger. I can't let him just die, Jace. If you walk down a
road, you help who's in front of you. That's what anyone is supposed to do. I'm
not God. Neither are you and maybe Munsinger is the key of it all. Maybe he'll
know—I don't know. I just…"


I couldn't let someone die. That's all I knew. That was right amongst so many
shadows of wrong.


And it took until this moment for me to be centered once again.


"You know," I murmured, "if my brother were here right now, he wouldn't
recognize me from the same sister that he saw in prison. I'm not the same."


Jace smiled, beautifully, and he whispered, "Doesn't mean you're not still
his sister. Doesn't mean that you're not…you're stronger. You're being pushed
right now. It's normal, Maya, for the body to close down so we can get through
what we have to get through. We don't do it consciously. Our mind does it. It
closes what we have to close so that we can get to the finish line."


"Even if we lose who we are when we do?" I asked. "Because I don't know if I
want that anymore. I don't know if I want to be pushed—and I have been pushed.
Trust me. I've seen rape. I've seen…I've sold my own soul at times. I get that.
I do, but I never forgot what was right and what was wrong. I never did
that."


Right and wrong.


Light and darkness.


Good and evil.


Was it all mixed together or could it be unraveled into separate strings?


And are we even supposed to figure it out?


"All I know is that you need me. I have the codes to get in that house, but I
won't unless I know that we'll try to save Munsinger."


"Maya—"


"I said 'try.'"


Jace shut his mouth.


I waited.


"If you tell me how, I'll do it. If you tell me how we can find Munsinger and
still come out ahead?"


"Maybe we're not supposed to come out ahead." I said lightly. "Maybe we're
supposed to do what's right and trust—"


"Trust what?" Jace demanded coldly. "Trust who? Nothing's going to help. No
one's going to help. We're in this alone. I'm the best hope the DEA has to
taking down this empire. Me. I've put in eleven years—"


"Each year for your son's life." I proclaimed.


"What?" Jace asked, taken aback. He moved back a step. "What are we even
fighting about?"


"About what's right. Letting Munsinger die as a martyr is not right. That's
not for us to decide and I won't do it anymore."


"Maya—"


"I won't." I said strongly. "I won't stay for that."


And that was my path, if Jace were to walk beside or not. I was going that
way, so he had a choice.


"You can't kill the head of the monster and expect it to stop, Jace." I said
faintly. "You can't choose which souls to save and which to let stay in the
ditch. It's all or none."


As I studied him, I didn't know what battled inside of him. I didn't know
what burned inside of him, what fueled his fire. And I knew that I had to know
because at the end of this all—that would either save us or it would condemn
us.


I knew that in my bones and I finally knew something to trust.


Finally.


I almost closed my eyes in relief because I felt my compass return again.


"Jace." I murmured, hoarse, "You can't tread on bad when it comes in handy.
You can't be efficient when you're going after a monster. We're fighting for
children, for their innocence. I just…"


"We're going into that house. We're going to find the Key and then you and I
are going to finish this discussion."


"Aren't you forgetting the Panthers that are going to be between us and
wherever we have to go? Or are your agents going to riot up in arms now?" I
reminded him. "You killed a Panther back there. That body is going to be found
and they're going to be looking for us, if not now, then when we try to
leave."


"Can we just focus on one thing here?" Jace asked, warily.


"It seems to be a recurring theme with us." I noted as my heart should be
trembling, but it only lay in wait.


"What is?"


"I still don't know how far you can go." I met his gaze and I exclaimed my
crystal intent. "And I intend to."


Hell or high water, no matter what valleys of death we tread upon, I needed
to see how deep his fire burned.


"You will." Jace surrendered. "But we're going in there first."


I looked over my shoulder, saw the mocking home, and knew what we'd find
within or beyond wasn't going to end well.