“What do they want to know about Westin?”
Or maybe not.
Aricelli hid her smile, settling back in her seat. “How it works. Where it is.” She knew she had to be careful here. She didn’t want to tip her hand but she had to learn what Vartan knew. “They want to know how they’re pulling it off with such secrecy.”
“To shut it down?”
How to answer that? She couldn’t be sure which side of the issue the Coordinator took. Best to let Vartan wonder the same.
“To gauge its viability.”
That must have been the right answer. Vartan leaned forward on his desk and studied her.
“You trusted me. Now I’m going to trust you. What I’m going to tell you is highly confidential. Less than a handful of people are aware of it and I am taking a great risk getting you involved.”
Aricelli tried to remain cool. “Anything you tell me will go no further.”
“For now I hope that’s true. Once our project has gotten a little further along, once we have some concrete evidence of our success, I hope you will help me get the support we’ll need in the Council. I’ll tell you right now, it’s going to be a tough sell.”
He scribbled on his stationery and handed it across to her.
“What’s this?”
“Directions. To a house on Lake Wenneset in Michigan. There’s a machine there that I think the tu Bith will find very interesting.” He watched her fold the paper and slip it into her purse. “What we are working on, what we are attempting there, is delicate in nature. The community at large is not ready for this innovation. I cannot emphasize enough the need for discretion. You’ve given me your word that I can trust you. I will be deeply disappointed if you prove me wrong.”
Chapter Eleven:
NAHAN
Nahan: Ourselves
Tomas heard the assistant knock on Vartan’s door. Voices in the hallway moved past the Storytelling room where he hid. It was time to find out if Aricelli had succeeded. He eased the door open to slip out. His stealth was wasted.
On the other side of the door stood Dalle, waiting.
Words froze in Tomas’s throat. He couldn’t move, could barely breathe as the blue eyes of his mentor stared into his, unreadable. They stood face-to-face, close enough to touch noses. He could smell Dalle’s skin and he felt the familiar sensation of being utterly transparent before the man. He finally managed to choke out the only word in his mind.
“Mentor.”
Dalle huffed a soft breath that Tomas could feel against his face.
“No.”
Dalle took Tomas’s hand and turned it palm up. In the center, he placed a black bee.
“Is this yours?”
Tomas couldn’t speak; his thoughts raced. How did Dalle know about the bees? Where did he find a black one? In the middle of winter? In the complex? Were black bees even real?
Before he could ask anything, Dalle squeezed Tomas’ fingers, closing his fist over the buzzing insect. Tomas couldn’t stop him, even when he felt the small body fighting then breaking under the pressure. He didn’t want to open his hand. He didn’t want to see the death there.
Instead he looked at Dalle, at his mentor’s hand held up before him. As Tomas clenched his own fist, the dead bee shifting within his grip, Dalle opened his hand, showing his palm to Tomas.
In the center, surrounded by an angry red welt, a long, black stinger protruded.
“Why didn’t it sting me?”
Dalle smiled. “It did.”
He brought two fingers of his injured hand and pressed on the center of Tomas’s forehead, whispering one word:
“Epatu.” Open.
He felt the world fall away around him, held up entirely by the contact of skin on skin.
Then the contact was gone. Tomas opened his eyes, not knowing when he had closed them. Dalle was gone. His hands were empty.
“Do we have any sort of plan?”
Tomas said nothing as Aricelli drove. Adlai, Stell, and Louis sat quietly in the backseat of the SUV. He knew they were watching him, worried about him. His hair stuck to his face and his neck was damp with the sweat that covered him after his odd encounter with Dalle. He kept clenching his fist, trying to remember the feel of the bee, trying to figure out what was real.
Louis leaned forward and stuck his head in between the front seats. “Mr. Vartan knew about Westin. Have we decided what this means? Is this good news or bad?”
Tomas continued to stare at his fist.
“Well,” Aricelli said, catching Louis’s eye in the rearview mirror, “if he knows about it, the Storytellers aren’t keeping it a secret from him.”
Tomas unfolded his fingers. His palm was smooth and unmarked.
“Then that’s a good sign, right, dude? It means whatever the Storytellers are doing, it can’t be that bad, right? Mr. Vartan would be obligated, as the Coordinator, to report—”
Tomas let the words fly by. Buzz by. Like bees.
Dalle had placed a bee in his palm.
Dalle had opened his mind.
Epatu—when a mind had to open to let something in. Or let something out.
Sweat dripped down the back of his neck but he ignored it as he ignored Louis and Aricelli, the acul ‘ads, and the road rolling past.
Bees. Drones. Fear. Pain.
The bee had stung him.
Dalle had felt the pain.
He saw Lucien’s red eyes, his tear-stained cheeks.
“The Storytellers aren’t doing this.”
“What, Tomas?” Aricelli reached out to push a sweaty lock of hair out of his eyes. Tomas pulled away. “How do you know this?”
“It’s killing them. It’s killing Lucien not being able to reach him, to feel him.”
Adlai growled. “That’s pretty damn good since he’s the one who broke him.”
“No. Lucien didn’t break him. Hess just broke.”
Louis put a hand up to hold back the acul ‘ad. “Well then, who’s taking care of Hess? And do we really want to bother them?”
“I don’t give a shit who’s taking care of Shelan,” Adlai said. “He’s coming with me.”
“What if he needs help?” Aricelli asked. “What if that machine Mr. Vartan mentioned is helping him heal?”
“The drone.” Even the word made Tomas’s head ache. “It might be why Lucien can’t reach him, can’t feel him.”
Louis leaned in closer, speaking softly. “Dude, are you feeling him? Or whatever? I mean, how can you do it and the Storytellers can’t?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s my gift? What I was supposed to learn from the poison?” He looked into the darkness flying by. “Maybe it’s Hess’s gift that he never got to learn. Whatever it is, something keeps telling me about the drone.”
Aricelli shook her head. “But didn’t you say the drone was removed? That it didn’t work?”
“It worked.”
“So then why would Mr. Vartan still want it?”
“Maybe because it works.”
“It’s just a house.”
Aricelli shut off the ignition and all five of them peered up at Westin.
It was just a house, two stories, weathered porch, surrounded by miles of woods. Dampness from the lake in the distance hung in the air.
Louis looked back through the rear window. “Nobody followed us. There doesn’t seem to be any security.”
“Carlson said it was just one girl up here guarding him. It’s a solitary assignment.”
“She’s Kott,” Aricelli said. “What if she won’t let us in?”
Nobody said anything until Stell huffed. “What do you mean she won’t let us? She’s common. We’ll make her.”
“She’s Kott,” Adlai said. “We can’t touch her.”
Before Stell could protest further, Tomas opened his door. “Maybe we won’t have to touch her. We’ll just ask her if we can see Hess. She doesn’t know Mr. Vartan didn’t send us. She’ll let us in. We’ll talk to Hess and decide wh
at to do.”
They had almost made it to the porch when Tomas heard a sound like a motorboat engine being revved underground. He dropped to the dirt, clutching his head.
The sound was more than a sound. It punched through his skull like a bolt, making his teeth clamp together and his thoughts go white. Nausea ripped through his body and Tomas feared he might lose control of his bowels. The sound abated and he was able to gasp a breath.
Stell reached him first, wrapping him in her arms and pulling him to her chest. “Tomas? Tomas? Speak to me. We’ve got to get him out of here.”
“No. I’m okay. That sound, it”—Another short burst of sound rang out and Tomas’s teeth clacked together. Just as quickly, the sound vanished. Tomas was pale and struggled to sit up. “Change of plans.” He waved his friends closer.
On the ground, wet with sweat, the taste of blood in his mouth, Tomas understood. It was the drone he had been feeling all along. The blackness. The cold. The pain.
“You’ve got to get her to turn it off. I can’t go in there with it on.”
“I’ll go in there.” Adlai said. “I’m going to rip that fucking thing out of the wall.”
“No.” Tomas grabbed his arm. “We’ve got to get her to turn it off. There might be a fail-safe or an alarm trigger.” His mouth tasted like ash. “This might not be the worst it can do. Go carefully. If she can amp this thing up, if this is what the drone can do, we can’t leave him here. Go, before it starts up again.”
Aricelli banged on the door and didn’t wait for an answer. She marched into the foyer of the house, followed by Louis and Adlai. In less than a minute, a young blond woman ran into the hallway with a panicked look.
“Hello? Who are you?” She wore flannel pajama pants and a Purdue t-shirt. Her hair was dirty and had a pencil stuck within its tangled mess.
“Katie, isn’t it? You need to turn off the drone now.”
“Who are you? I’m not turning anything off until you tell me what you’re doing here.”
Aricelli looked to Louis, who gave her a small nod. He knew what she was going to do.
“Damn it.” Aricelli fumbled in her purse. “Didn’t Paul call you?” Katie only stared at her. “Paul Vartan? Your boss? You do know who you work for, yes?”
“I answer to Mr. Vartan.”
Aricelli pulled out the directions Vartan had written on his own stationery. “And who do you think sent me?”
“Get Vartan on the phone!” Louis pointed a finger at Aricelli, ignoring Katie. “I told him to get his shit together or this was the last time we were taking care of this. Get the goddam drone turned off and let’s get on with it.”
“I’m working on it. Please, I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding.” Aricelli almost smiled. Louis was such a natural. He had to know that nothing brought people together like a shared enemy. He would be the bad guy, Aricelli would be the ally.
“You people have no business being here. I don’t care who—”
“Please, Katie. You have to listen to me. I don’t know how our wires got crossed but Mr. Vartan sent us here. It’s a maintenance thing. We do it every year and if I don’t get that drone turned off, I’m going to be in so much trouble. I don’t know why nobody told you about this. Deb was always ready for us when we showed up.” They could hear the drone kick on once again and Aricelli tried not to think of what it was doing to Tomas.
Katie chewed her lip. “I was told never to turn it off. That it was for my own safety.”
“Trust me.” Aricelli tipped her head toward Adlai. “That’s what this gorilla is for.”
She held her breath and waited. Louis had ended his fake phone call and Adlai stood frozen, waiting to see what the girl would do.
Katie chewed her lip a little longer, looking at the note in Aricelli’s hand. Then she nodded. Before relief fully flooded Aricelli, Katie spoke up.
“I’ll turn it off. But I have to call Mr. Vartan first.”
The drone kicked on again, the rumble seeming to go on forever. Aricelli thought she might be sick.
“Okay.”
Katie kept nodding, her relief evident. “Okay, great. It’s in my office right by the phone. We can just call—”
Aricelli didn’t know which one of them would act first. One of them had to grab the girl. She could not be allowed to make that call.
The decision was made by the sound of the front door being kicked open.
They were just standing there. Louis, Aricelli, even Adlai, just standing there. Couldn’t they hear the drone? Didn’t they know what it was doing to Tomas?
Stell had Tomas, her arm around his waist holding him up. She dragged him into the house. Blood ran from his nose and his skin shone waxy with sweat.
“Turn off the fucking machine!”
Katie backed away. “Who are you people? I’m calling Mr. Vartan. I’m Kott and I demand”—She didn’t get to finish her demand. Stell dropped Tomas and leapt for her, grabbing the blonde by the neck and hauling her onto her toes.
“Turn. It. Off.”
Stell heard the others behind her. She didn’t know if they would stop her or help her but the girl looked down at her stubbornly.
“Get your hands off me. I am fourth-generation Kott.”
“And I don’t give a shit.” Stell squeezed a little harder.
“I’ll report you,” she hissed. “I’ll tell Mr. Vartan.”
Stell’s nails dug into the soft skin of her neck. “With what voice?”
“Stell, stop.” Tomas sat on the floor where she’d dropped him. His hair and his shirt clung to him, dark with sweat. Stell didn’t loosen her grip. “Katie, I need you to listen to me. You need to turn off the drone. It’s a dangerous machine.”
Katie struggled to speak around Stell’s grip. “Mr. Vartan said it’s too dangerous to turn off. He said—” She gasped as Stell dug her nails in. Katie’s voice came out in a reedy whine. “I’m protected by the Council.”
Tomas laughed. “Does it look like she gives a shit about the Council?”
Tomas left Katie in Stell’s hands. Louis and Aricelli stayed downstairs as much to prevent Stell from killing the girl as to keep watch. The drone was off. He and Adlai headed upstairs to find Hess.
Tomas stepped aside and let Adlai move into the room. Under the window was a narrow bed and in the dim light they could see a figure lying still. Adlai hurried to the bed and caught his breath at the sight of Shelan, thin and haggard, staring at the ceiling unseeing.
“Shelan?” He whispered. “Shelan? Can you hear me?”
Hess brought his eyes into focus on Adlai’s face. “Go away.”
Tomas saw Adlai reel at the words.
“Shelan? It’s me. Anton.”
“Go away.” He closed his eyes tight and a tear slid out the corner of his eye into his hair. “You’re not real. You’re not real. You’re not real.”
Adlai brushed his fingers over Hess’s cheek and the Storyteller opened his eyes. “I’m here, brother. I’m getting you out of here.”
Hess cried out and threw his arms around Adlai’s neck, pulling himself up into his embrace. His thin fingers dug at Adlai’s coat as he cried. “Be real. Oh god, please be real.”
Tomas didn’t want to interrupt but they had to hurry. He cleared his throat and Hess jumped at the sound.
“Who are you? I know you.”
“There isn’t time to explain it now. We’ve got to go. Please, trust us.”
Adlai gave him his jacket to cover up. “We’ve got a car outside.”
“They’ll never let me leave. The drone will be coming on any minute. I can’t go. They’ll kill me. Please listen, Anton. I can’t . . .”
Louis slipped through the door. “What the hell’s taking so long? Let’s go. We don’t know if there’s any kind of alarm or timer. Come on.”
Adlai assured his bewildered friend that everything was taken care of and helped him down the stairs. Hess was light-headed and unsteady and had to lean on Adlai. Downst
airs, Stell finished tying a red-faced Katie to a kitchen chair, a towel around her mouth as a rough gag.
Tomas saw the Kott girl’s rage and heard the threat in her muffled words.
“Trust me, Katie. This is the right thing. And it could have gone a lot worse.”
Aricelli had the car running, Louis in the backseat, waiting for Adlai to help Hess down the stairs. Tomas, still leaning on Stell, walked along beside them. Adlai growled that he didn’t need help, that Hess needed nobody but him now.
“We’ll go to Detroit. My dad’s there.” He shifted his grip on his unsteady friend. “Dad can get us back to the Reaches.”
They froze at the unmistakable ch-chunk of a pump-action shotgun.
“Going somewhere, sweetheart?”
Tomas heard Hess moan, taking the longest of the four of them to turn to face the two Nahan men pointing guns at them. One had the shotgun aimed directly at Adlai. The other stood smiling, his fingers on the trigger of a 9mm.
Adlai stepped in front of Hess, and the man with the handgun smiled. “You move, we fire. You may be fast but you’re not faster than a bullet. You may be tough but you ought to see what a shotgun blast can do to a human skull, especially at this range.”
Adlai grinned and Tomas felt Stell tensing, aggression moving through her. “That’s a nice bluff.” The acul ‘ads inched forward, giving Tomas a clear view of Hess, eyes closed, swaying. Guns were raised, Stell and Adlai poised to attack.
“Stop,” Hess said. “Put the gun down, Graves. I won’t leave.”
“Good boy,” Graves said, lowering his weapon. The other man kept the shotgun trained on them as Hess pushed past Adlai’s restraining arm.
“Let me go, Anton,” Hess said. “They’ll kill you.”
“What? No, they’re Nahan.” Adlai shook his head. “I’m Nahan. They may shoot but I’m awfully hard to kill.”
“They’ve done it before. They killed the men who brought me here.”
Ourselves Page 28
