But there’s no hiding anything from a mind reader; I don’t have to look at her or speak for her to know exactly what’s going through my head. And from the way Jay pulls back, I get the feeling he’s sensed something in me with his gift that’s giving him a pretty good idea of where I stand right now, too. Johann just watches me without saying anything, and even though she doesn’t have a gift that lets her into other people’s heads or hearts, I realize she knows this is probably what I want, too. I’d have thought she’d be the first one to shoot down this plan, if only because she argues against everything Lai suggests these days, but she hasn’t said anything.
Now, Johann turns her back on all of us. “Just do what you want. I’m making dinner.”
Jay almost looks like he’ll go after her, but he just shakes his head. His glasses slide down his nose. “How would Erik even get to them when we have no idea where they are?”
“I’m sure he can come up with something.”
I frown. Underneath a pile of worn clothes in the corner I’ve been sleeping in sits the sketchbook Ellis gave me at that ambush. And inside it, a way to get in touch with the rebel leader. But I never told anyone about that. Damn mind reader.
Even though I doubt Jay knows about the sketchbook, he picks up on Lai’s hint. “This is a terrible plan,” he says.
“I know,” Lai says.
“Hey, I haven’t agreed to anything yet,” I say. The words sound hollow even to me. The looks Jay and Lai give me are halfway between pity and saying, Really? I throw my hands up. “Okay, fine, yes, I’m in. Happy now?”
Jay closes his eyes. He’s always taken his position as our leader seriously—and even I’ll admit he’s done a good job of it. I can’t really imagine him letting me walk alone straight into the enemy’s lair. He’s a good guy like that. But when he opens his eyes, I know he’s not going to say what he wants to. “We’ll take tomorrow to prepare. Erik, collect whatever supplies you need before you head out—don’t forget anything, because I doubt you’ll be able to come back. The rest of us will get ready to head to the Order. We’ll depart at midnight. You can take the day to think it over, make sure you’re certain of this. If you change your mind, you’ll of course be able to come with us. There’s no shame in refusing to go through with something this dangerous.” His eyes cut to Lai, but she pretends not to see.
“Yeah,” I say. “Sure. Cool.” But we all know I’m not going to change my mind.
3
JAY
I DISLIKE THE idea of Erik parting from us. We should stick together now more than ever. However, I can’t, or perhaps won’t, argue the matter with him. Last night he was a tumultuous current of violet anxiety and orange-red resolve. A worrisome mix, to say the least. But there was not a single shade of doubt.
I awake at dawn for no immediately discernible reason. However, it doesn’t take long to realize Lai isn’t in the apartment. I close my eyes and allow the internal grid in my head to unravel itself. The landscape of the area around me takes shape in a three-dimensional map; fluctuating shapes in various shades move through buildings and the streets below, or else remain still in the neutral shades of sleep. I search for one particular presence, and the grid focuses in on an area not far from here. A café? Lai is there, along with someone I recognize from the Order. Seung. A catch-up meeting, then.
Erik and Johann’s slow, steady breaths fill the space around me in a comforting hum. I allow myself a few heartbeats to lie there on the hard wooden floor, listening, taking strength from their presence. I won’t be able to for much longer. When I open my eyes, dust motes dance through the dim, gray, watery light of daybreak filtering in through the single window. I take a deep breath. Then I rock to my feet, wash my face, and make for the café.
Most of the sector has yet to awaken this early. The warm scent of baking bread drifts through the streets. A few early risers stride past me, but they each appear duly determined to head for wherever they’re going and stop for nothing else. They pay me no mind, and I try very hard not to act like they should. I’m a normal citizen. Certainly not a Nyte and ex-soldier wanted for treason.
Something like acid sweeps up my stomach and throat. How many years did I loyally work for the military? How many years did we all? Yet they forced us to go to “peace negotiations” with the rebels, something we all knew was a trap, then branded us traitors when we barely made it back alive from said trap. I’d always known they were less than perfect, especially in regard to their treatment of Nytes. But I never thought they were so openly despicable. Backstabbing, lying, manipulative—
It takes several heartbeats for my anger to run its course and fade to the background. By that time, I’ve made it to the café where Lai and Seung are meeting. It’s on the sixth floor of a skyscraper housing various shops, and because I want to minimize my chances of being seen and recognized, I take the stairs rather than the elevator.
The café is surprisingly large, tucked into a corner between a clothing shop and a stationery store. Gray stone tables of an intricate design that I’m certain Erik would appreciate line the floor in neat rows. A counter to the far side sits underneath a large menu board displaying various coffees, teas, and alcohols. The barista looks up expectantly as I walk in. I hesitate before stepping up to order a black coffee. It would be rude to come and take up space without purchasing anything.
We’re lucky Lai and Erik both stored their salaries outside of our military-issued bank accounts. Lai because she didn’t want her transactions with the Order to be tracked, and Erik because he trusts no one. Thanks to that, we’re not without funds now.
The barista hands me my coffee with no more suspicion than any other teenager might warrant. The loose, light civilian clothes I’ve been wearing the past few days still feel like a stranger’s skin, but they’ve camouflaged me well. I thank him before heading to a table in the back corner, where Lai and Seung sit with papers splayed between them.
Seung’s head snaps up at my approach, sending her short, dark hair flying, but Lai waves away her concern without looking up, and it doesn’t take long for Seung to recognize me. She, Syon, and the Wood twins, Peter and Paul, all joined us when we headed out to meet the rebel leaders. They wanted to protect Lai even though she insisted they stay in Sector Eight. It’s probably only because of them that we all managed to get out alive. Well. Almost all of us.
My stomach wrenches at the memory of Lai grieving over Paul’s body.
My mug clatters against the stone tabletop. “I hope you’re well, Seung.”
“As well as could be expected,” Seung says. It’s my first time seeing her out of combat gear. A white blouse with long, loose sleeves covers her golden-brown skin. A necklace with power crystals strung around it, not unlike the one Lai always wears, circles her neck. Her light brown eyes follow me as I seat myself at their table.
Lai still hasn’t looked up. Her fingers trace a line on one of the documents Seung must have brought. I can see the gears turning behind her dark blue eyes. Her pale skin looks paler than usual with the dark jacket she’s wearing. She absently tucks a long strand of brown hair behind her ear, and I notice the pair of red-framed glasses she’s wearing. I’ve never seen her wear glasses before. The lenses are obviously fake—or perhaps it’s only obvious to me as someone who wears prescription glasses—but she looks cute in them. I resist the urge to pull them off and kiss her.
I wait until Lai is ready to speak. Once she’s finished her mental calculations, she jots down a note on the paper and turns to me with a smile. A tired smile, but a smile nonetheless. “I wasn’t expecting you to be up this early.”
“I could say the same of you,” I say. I glance at Seung, who’s as skilled at murderous glares as Johann—though there’s something about Seung’s that is more subtle and refined. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”
“If you were, I would’ve asked you not to come when I heard your thoughts headed our way,” Lai says.
“If you knew he was comi
ng, you could’ve mentioned it,” Seung says. She folds her hands together on the table.
“Don’t mind Fiona, she’s always looking for an excuse to be grumpy,” Lai fake-whispers to me loudly enough for Seung to hear.
Seung rolls her eyes. “In any case, we were just finishing up. I need to get back to Regail Hall. Ever since the rebels declared war, we’ve had more than enough work on our hands.” Sharp white guilt cuts through Lai’s presence. “I look forward to you rejoining us soon.”
Lai murmurs agreement.
Seung gathers all the papers on the table and slips them into her bag. She stands, and with a nod to each of us, she leaves the café without another word. It feels much emptier with her gone.
I turn my attention back to Lai, but she’s frowning out the window, looking down over the twisting streets below that are only now beginning to fill.
I reach over to push her glasses up her nose. “These are new.”
She blinks and laughs as she pulls my hand from her face. She doesn’t let go of it. “It’s part of the disguise. Like it?”
The disguise in question consists of a black jacket that looks chosen more for style than function—something I’ve never seen Lai wear—a scarlet blouse, and a high-waisted black skirt. Her hair is down, yet another rarity, and bits of it are tied into braids that pull around to the back of her head. Her usual cord of power crystals hangs around her neck, but a bracelet dangles from her wrist where I’m used to seeing her MMA, a high-functioning, military-issued “watch” used for communicating, tracking, signaling, and other tasks. And of course the fake glasses.
“People are less likely to suspect a fashionably dressed young girl of being an ex-soldier,” Lai says with a wink. “It doesn’t really fit the image, you know? Besides, it’s fun to dress like this when I can.” She stretches her arms out in front of her with a yawn and tips her coffee mug to see if there’s anything left inside.
“You look pretty,” I say, because it’s what I think and I don’t know what else to say. Trust Lai to have a double motive even for getting dressed.
She laughs and turns her empty mug around. “Thanks.”
“I mean it.”
“I know.”
It takes a heartbeat for me to register the pink of her presence and yet another to realize there’s a reason she isn’t looking at me directly. I smile and take her mug. “I’ll get you a refill.”
“Oh—thank you. Um, it’s the house blend with milk and three packs of sugar.”
“Three? Isn’t that a bit excessive?”
“I need something to make me happy in this world.”
I laugh and yellow pleasure fills her presence.
By the time I return with her refill, Lai’s focus has drifted off again. I set the coffee in front of her. She flashes me a grateful smile as her fingers wrap around the mug.
“What news did Seung have?” I ask.
“The Order is restless,” Lai says. “Many members want us to enter the war ourselves, fight the rebels. Especially with Paul’s death at their hands.” Her eyes drop momentarily, but before I can attempt to offer any words of comfort, she says, “The idea’s ridiculous. The Order is a peace organization. We never intended to do any kind of fighting other than self-defense—we’re not even equipped for it. We’d be wiped off the map. And just how are we supposed to spread the message of peace if we put ourselves in the middle of a war? Yet Fiona and a lot of the others are pushing for it.” Her frown deepens as she takes a sip of her coffee.
Lai protects the Order more fiercely than she does her own life. If she thinks an action could even potentially endanger the Order, she won’t take it. But she isn’t the only one who dictates what the Order does. As far as I know, she’s a Helper and seen as a leader—but the real leader of the Order is a woman named Walker. I wonder what she wants the Order’s future actions to be. After all, her decision is likely to be the final one. Hers and that of her two seconds-in-command, Seung and Clemente.
A few more patrons have started to trickle into the café. I watch a well-dressed businesswoman enter and order at the counter.
I understand Lai’s side. However, I also understand where Seung and the others are coming from. The Order has an extensive intelligence network, methods of operating secretly, and several members with strengths that could greatly aid in stopping the war—whether physically or politically. They could even have a spy amid the rebels’ leaders if all goes well with Erik. The Order is certainly a force to be reckoned with. And joining the war could be a chance for them to be heard. If the Order helped take down the rebels, people might be more inclined to listen to what they have to say about peace between the gifted and ungifted. Is staying secret, protecting themselves in hiding, truly the best route for the Order to take?
I say none of this aloud because it’s not my place to, but Lai’s presence swirls with violet anxiety. Neither of us mentions what I’m thinking.
4
AL
OUTSIDE THE APARTMENT’S one window, the night is black as coal. The four of us stand together with bags over our shoulders, and I don’t know who I can’t stand more. There’s the obvious option of Lai, liar that she is, who only just told us about her huge secret peace organization or whatever. But then there’s Mendel, being an idiot and going over to the rebels even though he could get himself killed. And even Kitahara, who usually makes it hard to hate anything about him, was in on all this Order crap from the get-go. I’m teamed up with a bunch of liars and backstabbers and I only just figured it out.
Lai and Kitahara both glance at me, but I don’t care. So what if they know what I’m thinking or feeling? Why shouldn’t they? Unlike the rest of them, I’m not so stuffed full of secrets you could throw a knife blindfolded and hit one of them.
Lai’s voice in my head makes me grit my teeth. This is the last time we’ll all be together for—who knows how long? Maybe ever. Don’t you think you could at least pretend you care?
Why should I? I think back.
Lai doesn’t reply, but it’s obvious by her face she’s not happy.
A spark of satisfaction lights in my chest. It doesn’t last, though. When I look around at my teammates’ faces, a weight presses down on my throat. I remind myself of my anger and all the perfectly good reasons I have to be angry at each of them, but the feeling doesn’t go away.
“You’re sure about this?” Lai asks.
“Aren’t you the one who suggested it in the first place?” Mendel asks.
“There’s no changing your mind once you’re back with them,” Lai says. “You know that, don’t you?”
Mendel hesitates, but not for long. “I’m sure. Look, there’s no point beating around the bush. I want to know about my past more than anything. You all know that. This is the best shot I’ve got without actually turning traitor, and I’m going to take it. If I don’t go, I’m always going to wonder. I’d regret not going more than I would going.”
Kitahara sighs. If Mendel was lying, I’m guessing he would’ve sensed it with his gift. I wonder if the sigh means he’s telling the truth or not.
“So I guess this is it,” Mendel says. He kicks at a loose floorboard.
“Just for now,” Lai says. “We’ll meet again.”
“If we’re lucky,” I mutter.
Lai shoots me a glare that I ignore.
“We will,” Kitahara says. “I know it.” His voice is strong, unwavering. We all look to him. He has a way of talking that just makes you want to believe what he says. It’s sure as hell more comforting than when Lai said it.
“Be careful,” Lai says to Mendel. She presses something into his hand. When he tucks it into his pocket, I catch a glimpse of a small, bright green crystal. “Use that to get in touch with me whenever you need to. It’s too risky to give you access to all of my gift—it’s difficult to control and you don’t have time to practice—so you’ll only be able to use it to communicate with me telepathically. Make sure no one finds out about it. Remember
everything I told you about Ellis, her gift, her way of planning. If you feel that you’re in danger at any point or like you’ve been discovered, get out. Above all else, you have to live.”
“I got it, I got it,” Mendel says. He leans back against the wall, trying to look casual, probably, but his shaking hands give him away. His nerves dampen my anger. “Get in, learn about my past, send on intel about the rebels, end the war, get out. Easy.”
Lai’s lips press together. “Just watch your back. And don’t take any unnecessary risks.”
“Yeah, because that’s so my shtick,” Mendel says. “I’m the one who lays low, remember? I’ve got this.”
“I know,” Lai says. She sounds so sure it surprises me. Where do you get that kind of confidence for a plan this crazy? “If I didn’t think you could do it, I wouldn’t have asked you to. I just…”
“Worry,” Kitahara supplies.
Lai’s frown deepens. Mendel laughs, but he stops abruptly when she says, “Yes. I’m worried.”
“Don’t be.” Mendel pretends to shudder. “It’s weird and I don’t like it.”
Lai shoves him and he laughs again.
“Watch yourself out there,” Kitahara says. He holds out a hand to Mendel, which seems way overformal, but that’s the major. Ex-major.
Mendel shakes his hand anyway. “I will.”
Then Mendel is looking at me, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. What I want to do is tell him what a reckless idiot he is and that if he gets himself killed, it’ll be his own fault. But Lai’s words still ring in my head. This is the last time we’ll all be together for—who knows how long? Maybe ever.
An Outcast and an Ally Page 4
