Blacklisted

by Gena Showalter

  "And that's it?" Mia asked. "That's all that happened?"

  "Yes."

  Mia studied my face for a long while, her gaze deep and probing. "What did he give you? And don't tell me a blank napkin."

  "If I tell you anything else, I'll be lying."

  "We'll see, little girl. We'll see. I'm going to run some tests on that napkin. And I'm going to interview a few people. Pray they support your accounting." Without another word, Mia strode from the room, the door opening for her automatically.

  Phoenix looked from the door to me, from me to the door. She ran her tongue over her teeth in a perfect imitation of Mia, then followed the same path the beautiful woman had taken.

  Alone again.

  My arm hurt badly. I wanted to go home; I wanted my parents to keep me safe. But more than anything else, I wanted to save Erik the way he'd saved me. If he really was a drug dealer, I wanted to save him from himself. If he wasn't, I wanted to save him from these agents.

  Sometimes good people have to do bad things.

  Was he or wasn't he? And did it matter to me anymore?

  Whether he was selling or not, he wasn't doing it for the money; I knew that. Not when his house was falling down around him. And Erik wasn't a user, a flyer. His skin wasn't tinted blue or flaky, two telltale signs.

  Did someone he loved need Onadyn?

  The thought caught me by surprise and I blinked. Maybe. That was definitely a possibility and would explain so much. If an Outer needed it, but couldn't get it, a dealer could get it for them. But then, that raised the question of just who Erik knew that needed it. A friend? Silver, perhaps?

  No. I shook my head. Morevvs were oxygen-tolerant and didn't need Onadyn to survive on our planet.

  Who couldn't get it on their own? The poor? Wait. I shook my head again. I think they were given a free supply from the government. Predatory aliens, then? My mouth fell open. Yes. Predatory aliens, those who had been suspected or convicted of a crime, were denied access so they'd have to leave the planet--if they managed to survive being hunted by A.I.R.

  Not an easy task, I now realized with a shudder.

  Erik could have all kinds of law-breaking friends. Or at least, suspected law breakers. I was living proof that A.I.R. sometimes made mistakes. Big mistakes. I was living proof that actions were sometimes misinterpreted.

  A holoscreen materialized on the wall in front of me, air dappling like clear jelly. Erik's image appeared on the screen. Seeing him, relief and shock filled me at the same time. He had a black eye, a cut lip, and drops of dried blood on his chin. He'd been beaten, that much was obvious. But he was alive, and that was the most important thing.

  Like me, he was tied to a chair.

  I watched as Cara stepped into Erik's room, her expression determined. Erik spotted her and smiled wryly.

  "Bradley's been notified," she said. "He's on his way here and wants to speak with you."

  "Nice move, bringing him in."

  "We think so."

  Who was Bradley? I hated not knowing. He had to be someone important because a look of sheer torture had passed over Erik's face. A look he'd quickly masked. Had I not been studying him so intently, I would have missed it.

  "Trying to break me, Cara?"

  "Of course we are, Erik." She paused, studied her blood-red nails. "You deserve to be broken in body and in spirit."

  "Well, you'll have to do better than this. I stopped caring what Bradley thinks of me a long time ago. You, too, for that matter." He smirked at her. "It wasn't smart of A.I.R. to send in the ex to interrogate me. I truly don't give a shit what you think of me, babe."

  Cara popped her jaw. She turned away from Erik, away from the camera, hiding her expression. "I still care about you, Erik."

  "Still?" He snorted. "You never cared about me, or you would have stood by my side when they kicked me off the squad."

  She spun around, rage flashing over her face. "You really want to go there?"

  "Yeah. Why not? I've got good memories of you sneaking into my cell and--"

  "Argh!" She reached out as if she meant to slap him, but stopped herself in time. She backed away from him. Deep breath in, deep breath out. "You're as good a manipulator now as you were then. 'I'm innocent, Cara.' 'You have to believe me, Cara.'" She pounded the wall. "I let you trick me once, but never again."

  "Trick you? Whatever you have to tell yourself to sleep at night, babe."

  Steps clipped, she paced around his chair. "Why are you acting this way?"

  "Because I can," was Erik's response.

  "Are you trying to hurt me further? To cut me inside?"

  A part of me felt guilty for being part of this intimate conversation. Another part of me eagerly listened, wanting to absorb every detail I could.

  "At one time, I would have killed anyone who hurt you," he said. He ran his tongue over his cut lip. "Even myself. Now, I just don't care. You're hurt? So the hell what. Nothing I do to you will equal what you did to me all those months ago."

  Once again, she turned away from him. "What do you want from me?"

  "I don't want anything from you," he said without emotion.

  "Did you expect me to quit A.I.R for you? To plead your case when it was obvious you were guilty?" She laughed bitterly, as if she almost wished she would have had the guts to do it. "That's stupid."

  "Yeah, maybe I was stupid for expecting the girl who claimed to love me to defend my name." He didn't sound emotionless this time. He sounded torn up inside. "I expected the girl who claimed to love me to believe there was a good reason that I was caught with Onadyn."

  "There are no good reasons," she snapped.

  He looked away from her, disgusted.

  A moment passed while Cara composed herself. She straightened her shoulders, turned, and squared her chin. An air of determination fell over her; she was all business now. "You've been evading us for a long time, Erik."

  Slowly he grinned, the action a little mocking. "Is that a big surprise? You're out for my blood."

  She waved a hand in dismissal. "We don't care about you; we're after bigger fish. We want to know where the Onadyn is being made. We want to know where it's being stored. We want to know how it's getting to the streets undetected. You give us those details, and you can go free."

  "So you can destroy it?"

  "Yes."

  A muscle ticked in his jaw. "Sorry. You won't get any help from me. Besides, I won't bargain with that information. Ever."

  "It kills humans," she said, rage blanketing her pretty brown eyes. "You know that."

  "And you know I've never sold it to a human."

  "Do I? Your every action screams guilt."

  "It saves aliens, Cara. You know that, at least."

  I was right, I thought with surprise, happiness, and relief. By selling the Onadyn, Erik was trying to save aliens. And they had beaten him up for that? Saving lives wasn't a crime.

  "Aliens can receive their Onadyn from proper suppliers like they're supposed to do. Making it, selling it, and buying it without a license is illegal and dangerous. It must be regulated."

  Erik didn't say a word.

  Cara approached him and traced a fingertip across the width of his shoulders. "If you won't tell us about your supplier, we'll beat the truth out of you. And then we'll beat the truth out of your girlfriend."

  "She's not my girlfriend," he snapped. Fire blazed in his eyes. "Leave her the hell alone."

  Tsking under her tongue, she sifted her hands through his hair. "You're a liar. Camille's something to you. Oh yes. She is indeed. You're seething with the need to protect the little princess."

  "I've only ever told you the truth," he said through clenched teeth, glaring up at her. "She's innocent."

  "The Erik I knew would never have involved a civilian."

  "This Erik did. I brought her into this when I shouldn't have. That's my bad, not hers."

  "Uh-uh-uh. You have feelings for her." Cara's tone was light, but her features were d
ark, as if a storm cloud covered them. "I can see it everytime you look at her. And I should know. You used to look at me that way. Besides, why else would you have hidden your relationship with her?"

  He laughed, and there was genuine amusement in the sound. "A.I.R.'s really getting sloppy if that's what you think."

  Scowling, Cara slapped him across the face. He continued laughing. She slapped him again. Blood trickled down his mouth, onto his chin. She slapped him a third time.

  "Stop," I shouted at the screen.

  "Are you jealous that I'm interested in another woman," Erik said, seemingly unaffected by the violence, "or are you jealous because she's a better person than you'll ever be?"

  Plain little me? Better?

  Cara paled.

  Erik puckered up his lips and made a kiss noise. "Tell Mia she'll have to kill me, because I won't tell you anything about the Onadyn, about the Ship, or about Camille."

  Oh, Erik. Don't talk like that. They might take you up on it. My body began shaking and refused to stop.

  "We'll get the answers out of you," Cara said, the words drawn, measured.

  "Give it your best shot."

  Why do they want me to watch this? I wondered angrily. Did they think I'd turn against Erik if I saw him misbehaving? Please. They were turning me against them more and more with every second that passed.

  "Oh, we will," Cara told him softly. "We won't kill you if we don't get what we want. We'll kill Camille, and you'll get to watch."

  8

  We'll kill Camille.

  They'd do it, too, I thought, my ears ringing loudly with panic. They'd do it without hesitation. Without remorse. Nothing they'd done so far had shown them to be merciful. And let's be honest: Cara would have killed me already if she'd been allowed.

  Most likely they weren't even checking out my story. How can they, Robins? They saw what they saw and that can't be erased.

  The door to my cell opened and my heart almost stopped. Had they come to kill me already?

  I heard Cara say, "Convince her to talk to us--the truth, this time." She didn't sound upset or guilty, she sounded smug. "Or, you two can use this time to say good-bye."

  The truth. My hands tightened into fists, causing the laserbands to burn my wrists. "I told you the truth!" I shouted, all of my emotions bubbling to the surface.

  Erik was suddenly shoved inside my room. Silent, he quickly caught himself and balanced. Grinning, Cara strode in behind him. Holding a pyre-gun to his temple with one hand, she removed his laserbands with the other.

  His gaze locked on me and didn't move. Determination and relief radiated from him. And something else, something I couldn't identify; I only knew it was intense. Hot.

  I shivered, growing warm all over. He was alive and he was with me. Finally! It was one thing to see him on a screen, but quite another to see him in person. His very presence comforted me when I should have been puking.

  "Why free my hands?' Erik asked. "You up to something?" Silent, Cara backed out of the cell, the barrel of her weapon never leaving Erik. But her features were yearning, needy. She might have betrayed him after he was caught with Onadyn, but she still wanted him. And she didn't like that she did.

  Like everyone else in the world, she was helpless against her own emotions.

  When she stood in the hallway, the door shut in front of her, leaving me and Erik alone. Immediately he closed the distance between us and crouched behind me. I opened my mouth to speak, but he shook his head. He even reached around and placed a hand over my lips.

  "There are cameras everywhere," he said.

  "Where?" I asked when he removed the hand. I looked left and right but didn't see a single one. I'd been filmed without my knowledge. That made me feel all the more violated.

  "Everywhere. Believe me. You okay?" he asked.

  "Yeah. Still breathing."

  "I'm going to rewire your bands. This may--"

  "Ow!"

  "--sting a bit," he finished. "Sorry."

  I'd felt a jerk, a burn, but I was now free and no longer quite so helpless. Pulling my arms into my lap required a conscious effort. They were shaky and weak and the skin around my wrists was red and inflamed.

  Moving hurt, but I twisted in the seat to face Erik. Seeing his cuts and bruises in person, those badges of pain and suffering, was like being stripped and placed in front of a hose blasting ice-cold water.

  What had they done to him, to cause his eyes to blacken and his lip to split like that? He was strong, yes, but even the strongest of men could be killed. "Are you okay?"

  He smiled wryly, then winced. He dabbed at the side of his lip, taking away a fresh bead of blood. "I'm better than ever."

  "Liar," I said without heat.

  He chuckled. "Caught me."

  "Erik--" I said at the same time he said, "Camille--"

  Despite the dire circumstances--or maybe because of them--we laughed, taking amusement where we could it, before lapsing into silence.

  "You first," he finally said.

  "I told them the truth, but they want to kill me. We've got to--"

  He placed his hand over my mouth, effectively cutting off my next words. I eyed him with curiosity. He freed my mouth but didn't pull away. His fingertips traced the curve of my jaw and I shivered. Nerves, I assured myself.

  "They're listening to everything we say, which is the only reason they allowed me inside your cell." He didn't try to quiet his tone but spoke loudly. "I used to work with them, here in this very building, so I know their tricks. They want us to talk, to reveal our secrets."

  I guess he truly had been an agent. He was strong enough, don't get me wrong, and he was smart enough. But in my mind, he was still a high school student who strutted down the halls, who joked with Silver, and flirted with all the (socially visible) girls.

  "Understand what I'm telling you?"

  "Yes."

  "Good." He'd released my bands, yeah, but with his words another wave of helplessness bombarded me. Constant surveillance was the same as being tied down. No way we could escape--and I desperately wanted to escape.

  "Don't worry," he added. He dropped his hand, but not before he allowed his fingers to linger, to trace the seam of my lips in an act of comfort. "Everything's going to be fine. I promised."

  Silly of me, but I wanted his hand back on my face. His touch was all the things I remembered: warm, callused, soothing. Besides Erik, no boy had ever touched me like that. I liked it; I wanted more.

  "I'm sorry I accused you of selling to humans."

  Eyes narrowed, he cracked his jaw. "I take it they let you listen to my conversation with Cara? And you believed me?"

  "Yes. And yes."

  "Some people would say selling Onadyn to aliens is as bad as selling to humans," he said loudly, and his tone left no doubt that he thought those people were idiots.

  "Why would they do that? If it saves lives?" No one deserved to die like the alien I'd seen in that photo.

  "Good question," he muttered. Then sighed.

  Gathering my courage, I said, "I can see why you'd want to leave this line of work," for the benefit of those listening, as well as to lighten Erik's dark mood.

  "Yeah, and why's that?"

  "Not only do the living conditions suck, but your former coworkers are assholes." There. Take that, ladies! A.I.R. would not defeat me. And I would not cower. Not anymore.

  Who are you? my mind demanded. Have you been taken over by an Outer?

  Erik slowly grinned. "I like you more and more, Camille Robins. You're a sound judge of character."

  I returned his grin. I liked him more and more, too.

  "I'm sorry about the napkin," he said. "I shouldn't have done that to you."

  Maybe I imagined it, but as we smiled at each other, some sort of tension sparked between us. Not a bad tension. A needy tension. I wanted a kiss, needed a kiss. Did he? My heartbeat quickened and fire spread through my veins. People are watching, I reminded myself.

  I c
leared my throat. "So as an agent, did you ever have to kill anyone?" A topic A.I.R. already knew well, I'm sure.

  "Yes." A faraway glaze slithered over his eyes. Dark memories sunk deep claws inside of him, pulling him down a terrible spiral. "I was recruited on my eighteenth birthday."

  "You don't have to tell me this, if you don't want."

  He continued as if I hadn't spoken. "I was out celebrating and had too much to drink. Got cocky. Rude. Insulted an Outer. We fought. Not an easy, push-away fight, either, but a bloody, violent fight that broke several of my ribs, sliced my stomach, and fractured my wrist."

  "Wow."

  "An agent saw the entire thing. My opponent, you see, was an Arcadian, one who could move faster than the blink of an eye. I managed to hold my own and even inflict some damage, something most humans wouldn't have been able to do." He shrugged again, none too casually this time. "A.I.R. took me from the hospital the next day, bandaged me up, and began training me to become an agent. A killer."

  I smoothed the hair from his forehead, realized what I'd done, and jerked my hand into my lap. "Those girls..."

  He nodded stiffly and stood. His boots had been removed, as well, I noticed, leaving him barefoot. "Yep. Kids taken from high school and trained to become A.I.R. agents. We trained together."

  I wanted to stand, too. Maybe lay my head on his shoulder and wrap my arms around him. He sounded so sad. But I remained in place. Any more touching, and they'd think we really were boyfriend and girlfriend. They already thought I was a liar; that would just add fuel to the fire.

  "Why'd you leave?" I asked.

  He massaged the back of his neck. "You heard. I was caught with Onadyn."

  "Yeah, but there's got to be more to it than that. They seem to, well," I hesitated. "I'm sorry to say this, but they seem to hate you. Being caught with Onadyn is a crime, yes, but I don't think it's worthy of such hatred."

  His gaze was sharp as it leveled on me. "You hated me when you first found out. Don't try to deny it."

  "I'll deny it if I want." I stubbornly lifted my chin. "I didn't hate you. I was disappointed in you and shocked. But even then, I had a hard time reconciling what you were saying about yourself to the boy I'd built up in my head. I mean, look at the way you took care of me."

  His eyes widened in surprise and he shook his head as if he couldn't quite believe I'd said that out loud. "You truly amaze me, Camille Robins."

  He meant it; I could hear the truth in his voice. No boy had ever said anything like that to me. A few that I had dated had told me I was pretty--to get into my pants. But to be told that I amazed someone? And said in a tone that dripped of reverence and awe, and not to get into my pants? Never.