“I didn’t want to be rich! I wanted a team, friends, people who would actually have my back. I wanted to protect people, the way we swore to do when we got our badges.”
You tell him, Coop.
But as Cooper and Phil really started to get into it, something seemed to prickle at the back of Gretchen’s neck, unsettling her.
Something was wrong. She couldn’t shake the memory of Phil’s sneer, even though he was too busy yelling and arguing now to still be wearing it. There had been a kind of smug confidence about it that had seemed out-of-place on a guy who had just gotten thrashed around. Maybe he was vile but tough, the kind of man who would refuse to give up even when he knew all the odds were against him. Maybe he was just the kind of man who never passed up the chance to throw a temper tantrum. Cooper had said Phil had a terrible temper, but—
But he had also said that Phil had some control over it. He didn’t break it out around witnesses, not when it might hurt his friendly image. He kept strategic control of his anger, and he concealed and used it for his own advantage.
If this was a tantrum, maybe there was a point to it.
Gretchen had a hunch that she knew what it was. Unlike Cooper, Phil really had had a team. He’d had friends—or at least equally scummy business partners—who had his back.
And since at least one of his friends could make their knees buckle from nauseating, disorienting visions, Phil would be really happy to see his old pals right now.
He wasn’t really arguing with
Cooper. He was stalling him.
And what really worried Gretchen was that the creepy smile on his face was getting wider with every second.
19
“Coop.”
Gretchen’s voice was maybe the only thing that could have cut through the turmoil currently inside his head. He turned to her.
She had gone eerily pale. A few minutes ago, there had been a savage joy on her face. No matter how tense their situation was and how much trouble they were in, she had been relishing the newfound feeling of her griffin and the thought of finally getting him justice. Now she looked almost sick to her stomach.
He stepped towards her, holding out his hand to touch her shoulder and reassure himself that she was still really there. “What is it?”
“He’s stalling,” Gretchen said. “He’s waiting for the rest of his team to get here.”
If he’d had any doubt at all that she was right, it would have vanished the second he saw Phil’s snarling reaction to her. He looked like he could have breathed engulfing flames at her without even shifting first.
“You—you mutant,” Phil said, spitting out the word like it was a vicious insult. “You don’t look like any griffin I’ve ever seen. You’re like a mutt.”
“Mutts are healthier than most purebreds,” Gretchen said, unruffled. She was getting some of the color back in her face, like she was feeding off Phil’s anger. “And you’re not going to play me, buddy. I don’t care what you think of me and my totally awesome lynx-falcon. You’re not dragging this out a second longer. We’re getting off this mountain, and we’re taking you to the police, and you’re going to confess and spend the rest of your life in prison.”
“Your dragon might leave you,” Cooper said.
He didn’t even mean it as a taunt. The feeling of his griffin ebbing away from him had been so awful that he couldn’t even wish that fate on Phil, who had been the one to slam him into a coffin and nail it shut. All he wanted to do was warn Phil that it could happen.
But Phil just looked at him blankly for a minute and then burst out laughing.
It was a really belly laugh, the kind that couldn’t have been faked. Not unless Phil had some secret acting career he didn’t know about.
Though at this point, even that wouldn’t surprise him.
“My dragon might leave me,” Phil said, sputtering, wiping at his eyes. “That’s just classic, Cooper. It really is.”
“What’s wrong with you?” Gretchen said, and then added, “Not that we have time for the whole list...”
“My dragon’s not going anywhere,” Phil said. His bright blue eyes looked like the sky Cooper had been kept from for so long, and they were twinkling with a manic good humor. “I am my dragon. You always believe everything people tell you, Cooper? Your griffin was fine. You could have sat in that prison for fifty years and come out and taken flight. Maybe you were having trouble, but it would always have been reversible.”
That was what Gretchen had thought, of course. But Roger had said—
He didn’t need Phil to tell him what was wrong with that statement. Roger had lied. Of course he had. Roger was a liar; it was what he did.