I point to one of the headphones. “Can I listen?”
Nodding, he helps me get set up, punching a few keys on a keyboard and securing the headphones on me. I’m listening to gibberish that I don’t entirely understand, most often coordinates being rattled out by patrols and agents alike, when Caden finds me half an hour later. His face is white and his mouth bracketed with stark lines.
“What’s wrong?” I demand, rising up from the chair where I was listening to the various snippets of conversations broadcasting between patrols in the area. I pull the headphones off my ears and hand them to Terrence.
Caden doesn’t answer, just shoots Terrence a dark look and hauls me off to his room. Once inside, he releases my hand and faces me. “I didn’t know where you were.” His voice, his intense gaze, remind me instantly that there’s a killer out there. Not just a carrier who could kill or might kill. There’s no supposition to this. And now I understand why he kept me so close. It’s not simply my scintillating company. Necessary or not, he’s trying to protect me.
He motions with his hand. “He’s locked in here with us.”
I nod, sobering.
“Until we capture him, you’re not leaving my side. I promised you nothing was going to happen to us . . . that we have time . . .” He pauses, his throat working as he swallows. “That you can have something good with me, something that lasts for once. I’m going to prove that to you.” His voice fades then and I step forward, touching his cheek and ignoring the pinch near my heart.
“I get it. Okay?” I smooth a hand over his face, brushing his lips that have become so familiar to me, hoping to get rid of his frown. When that doesn’t work, I kiss him, hating seeing him so scared for me. I prefer him mad to that, and that’s when I realize his happiness has become as important as my own.
I should have known Caden would come up with a plan. He’s not a leader by default. Sure, his father got the ship up and running, but Caden’s not the kind of guy to stand by and watch as the world moves past him.
My father always used to complain about my brother’s lack of ambition. Especially after he dropped out of college. He said there were doers in life, and Mitchell wasn’t one of them. Not that I agree with Dad’s low opinion of my brother, but the categorization always stuck in my mind.
Well, Caden is, unquestionably, a doer.
When Terrence knocks on our door one night after dinner, I can tell this is no random visit.
“We’re all set,” Terrence says.
Caden nods. I rise from the bed, where I had been reading one of his books.
“Hey,” I greet, looking between the two of them, my familiar wariness quick to grab me. I trust Caden, but that doesn’t mean I trust the reality we live in. I cross my arms and look between the two of them. “What’s up?”
“We came up with a plan to catch our rat,” Caden explains.
A plan only he and Terrence know. And now me. I warm inside. He’s known Terrence for a long time. To be trusted alongside him makes me happier than I should probably feel.
“Let’s hear it,” I prompt.
“I’m lifting the lockdown next week and sending out a group for supplies.”
“You’re setting a trap,” I state, knowing there’s no way he would lift the lockdown and risk the mole getting out to relay information to the enemy.
“That’s right.” Caden nods at Terrence. The former soldier says nothing, simply crosses arms over a chest that any wrestler would envy. “Terrence is going to stand watch at the exit through the next several nights.”
“You think he’ll try to sneak out.”
He shrugs. “Maybe. We’ve been in lockdown for over a week. He’s probably anxious to get out and communicate with his Agency contact.”
I nod slowly. “It sounds like it could work.”
Caden flashes me a grin. “Of course it will. Where’s your faith? I’ll make the announcement in the morning.”
He opens the door for Terrence. “Get a good night’s sleep, T. You’re going to need it starting tomorrow.”
He closes the door and pulls me into his arms. I step forward willingly, loving the way his hands move on my back, his fingers skimming each tiny bump of my vertebrae over my shirt.
“Thanks for telling me,” I say.
“Are you so surprised to know your opinion matters to me?”
I stand on my toes and kiss him, letting that serve as my answer as I marvel that I ever thought I could resist this. Emotions. Feelings. Him. All the things that separate the living from the dead.
No more hiding from that. No more Cage.
* * *
Conversation between President Pitt and General Dumont
Undisclosed location:
PRESIDENT PITT: General, pleasure to finally meet you. Your reputation precedes you.
GENERAL DUMONT: I’ll let you begin, Mr. President. You wanted this meeting.
PRESIDENT PITT: I want this all to end.
GENERAL DUMONT: I had nothing to do with the attack on Agency headquarters.
PRESIDENT PITT: Be that as it may, you are a recognized leader among the Resistance. You are much respected. Your lead is followed. If we can reach a peaceful accord . . . let’s just say I want this country to live another century without imploding.
GENERAL DUMONT: Then start by getting rid of Wainwright, the Wainwright Act, and the camps.
PRESIDENT PITT: (laughs lightly) Is that all?
GENERAL DUMONT: It’s a start. We’ll talk about restitution once that happens.
TWENTY-TWO
NEWS THAT A GROUP WILL BE GOING OUT FOR SUPPLIES next week lifts spirits. It might be that everyone is simply tired of eating spaghetti and looks forward to getting some new staples. More than likely, it’s just the promise of getting back to normal again. A return to routine. The lockdown frightened everyone and put them on edge and everyone only wants things to go back to the way they were before. When there was at least an illusion of safety.
Days pass as Terrence stands watch as agreed, but so far no one has attempted to leave the compound. We see him in the mornings at breakfast, after his watch each night. We don’t expect anyone to slip away during the day when they can be observed leaving. It’s disappointing. Especially for Caden. These people, this compound. He sees them all as his responsibility.
Some nights, the worry and anxiety get to him, and I have to convince him not to leave our cell and go check on Terrence himself. He listens to me. Mostly he doesn’t want to risk the traitor catching him patrolling the halls. And because he enjoys my methods of distraction. Kissing him has become as natural and necessary as breathing.
There’s still that clock ticking in my mind, warning me that this could all be gone, vanishing in an instant. So maybe I’m selfish and I want to distract him. For me. I want his full attention for myself.
All I know is that we barely step inside the room after dinner every night before we’re in each other’s arms. We kiss until I can’t feel my lips. Wild and desperate, soul-consuming kisses. We keep our clothes on, because we know taking them off means more. Everything. I haven’t pushed to go further. Not since our first night together. He wants to take things slow to prove to me that we have all the time in the world. I still don’t know if I agree with that, but I’m not spending time arguing the point. Not when we could be kissing.
“Do you ever think of leaving? Finding someplace else far away?” I whisper this question. Snuggled in the dark beside him, the scent of his warm skin is a heady thing. This holding each other has come to mean nearly as much as everything else. More than the kissing. Talking, listening, connecting with another soul . . . being together.
“And go where?” His voice rumbles beneath my ear. I trace patterns on his skin.
“I don’t know. Away. Mexico. One of the refuges or someplace else. Anywhere.”
“Where can we hide?” His hand strokes my neck, raising goose bumps on my flesh. “We have this.” His thumb rubs where I know the H marks my flesh.
“Kind of makes hiding impossible.”
“I don’t know. A cottage up on some mountaintop maybe?”
“Oh. A little hermit’s hut? Would you be there with me?” There’s a smile in his voice as he continues stroking my neck.
“Maybe,” I tease. He likes it when I do that. He likes me playful. He likes my smiles. And I like me this way, too. I’ve missed it. I thought I lost this side of me with everything else.
He rolls me on my back and pins my wrists beside my head. His eyes gleam darkly at me in the shadows of the room. “I think I could be convinced to go almost anywhere with you, Davy.” And then he kisses me long and deep until my toes curl.
Maybe not everything is lost.
On the fifth morning, Terrence doesn’t show up at breakfast after his nightly watch. Caden and I get our food and sit down with Junie. I watch Caden play with his meal, flipping his toast over and over in his long fingers, his cheek feathering with tension. After several more minutes, he finally stands. “Wait here.”
Junie looks up, appearing annoyed at the interruption to her story of how she broke the nose of a boy twice her size when he decided he wanted to take on a carrier.
I grab his hand and mouth the words to him, I’m going with you.
With a curt nod, he leads the way. We check Terrence’s room first. Then Caden checks the showers. We search everywhere, all the while trying not to look as though we’re hunting for anything in particular.
After we’ve searched every possible inch of the compound, Caden’s gaze drifts up to the stairs that lead aboveground. There’s only one place left to look. Caden starts up the stairs. I follow, feeling everyone’s curious gazes on us as we ascend.
Caden’s worried for his friend enough to draw the attention of the others, including the traitor, to us. He races over the iron grate, swinging right into the tunnel. His tread clangs loudly, shaking the floor under us. His shape disappears as the tunnel darkens. I follow, my hands stretched out in front of me as I run blindly after him.
The faint blue glow alerts me to the chamber ahead. He reaches it first.
His cry of anguish echoes down the tunnel. When I catch up, he’s on his knees, his body a darker shadow in the gloom. My blood runs hot and cold all at once. He crouches over something I can’t quite identify that’s spread out on the floor before him. A big shape. Big as a man. I gulp a breath, my heart thumping hard.
“Cade . . .” My voice is so soft. Like I’m afraid to give any real power to it. Afraid of the response I’ll hear.
I shuffle numbly on my feet and peer over his shoulder, seeing for myself what the sick churning inside me already knows.
Caden makes no sound beyond that initial cry. He gathers Terrence close, lifting the big man in his arms like he’s a child. I set my shaking hand to his shoulder and move closer. Which only permits me to see better. A sob strangles me, hot as tar rising up my windpipe.
Terrence’s throat is cut. The bloody grin gapes open grotesquely.
My fingers clench on Caden’s shoulder, and he flinches. I pull away only for a moment before lowering my hand down again, determined for him to know I’m here. He’s not alone. “I’m so sorry. . . .”
“I did this.”
“No, you—”
“I did this!” he shouts. “It was my plan, my idea!”
There’s nothing I can say. I know what it’s like to live with blood on your hands. Still, I hold on to his shoulder as if I can take away some of his guilt. As if I can ease his pain.
“Terrence! T! T!” Junie pushes past me and drops down beside Caden, her face bloodless. Even in the dim blue haze, I can see that all the color has been leached from her skin. “Oh! God! What, how— Caden, what happened?”
Others crowd the space. I’m shoved to the side as voices overlap, expressing their horror, demanding an explanation, and in the middle of it all is Caden. Looking lost and broken in a way I’ve never seen him before, and something shrinks and curls up inside me. The hope and faith that he has so painstakingly brought to life inside me begins to die.
The day passes in a blur. Caden addresses the compound. No one says much. Not even Marcus. Everyone is in shock. One of the captains is dead. Not by any outside threat. One of their own did it. Someone penned up in here with us. This place that is supposed to be a haven, a shelter . . . it’s not.
It’s no secret anymore. A traitor is among us, and everyone looks around at his and her neighbors with unease. Caden commands everyone to operate in groups. For the first time, he closets himself with Marcus and a few others, leaving me with Junie and Boyce.
Before he went, he pressed a kiss to my forehead and then looked sharply at Junie. “Don’t let her out of your sight. Go nowhere. Stay out here in the main room.”
Junie nods. Some of the color is back in her cheeks. “Nothing’s going to happen to her. Don’t worry.”
After several moments of silence, Boyce murmurs, “What do you think he’s going to do?”
Junie shakes her head. “I don’t know. What can he do?”
“He’ll catch him.” I nod doggedly. “Caden is smart.”
“He might be smart, but he’s not God.” Boyce shoots me a look like I’m an idiot thinking with my girly parts.
“Hey, have some faith.” Junie slaps his arm.
“We need the General,” Boyce mumbles, fingering the scar bisecting his cheek.
I stare at the door Caden and the others disappeared through. After an hour, the three of us move on to other tasks. I decide to help in the kitchen washing dishes. Mind-numbing work that can be done in relative silence, and I’m still technically in the main room in plain view.
Everyone is quieter than usual, eyeing one another warily. It’s one thing to know we all possess a kill gene. We’re all unified in that. But this upsets the balance. There’s someone among us actually killing, and we don’t know who he is. Suddenly we’re all hunted.
An hour slides into two, and Caden and the others don’t emerge for dinner. My heart races as the minutes tick by with no sight of him.
“I’m sure they’re fine in there,” Junie offers as she eats. She’s trying to be a comfort, but that hardly helps. For all I know, Marcus is the killer and he’s in there with Caden. Not a consoling thought.
Then I spot him. I half rise from my seat, waving him over. He doesn’t even glance my way. Just walks in a straight line past the main room. I frown, sinking back down. I glance from my half-eaten food to Junie, Boyce, and the others.
“Oh, go after him. You know you’re dying inside.” Junie makes a shooing motion with her hand, urging me to go.
I look up again at Caden’s retreating back heading down the corridor to his room.
“C’mon.” She stands and starts pulling me along, even though I’m taller and outweigh her by a good twenty pounds. “We won’t break his rules. I’ll keep an eye on you until you get inside the room.” True to her word, she stands at the end of the hall, watching me. The door isn’t locked, so I enter without knocking, wondering if I should have. Oddly, in this moment, I feel uncertain around him. He’s lost one of his best friends, his closest ally. He probably doesn’t want to see anyone right now. Even me.
And yet I can’t stay away.
“Caden?” My gaze lands on him on sitting on the edge of the bed, his head buried in his hands. I cross the room and sit beside him. “Are you okay?” I place a hand on his shoulder, not surprised to feel the tightly corded muscles there. He feels like he’s ready to snap apart.
His response is a heavy sigh. I smooth my hand over his shoulder in small circles. “I’m so sorry, Caden.” I hesitate and wet my lips. “Did you and Marcus come to a decision?” As the remaining two captains, it’s up to them where to go from here.
His hands tighten in his hair, and I wince, convinced he’s hurting himself. “There’s someone in here killing and plotting with our enemies on the outside. I don’t even know if they slipped out after killing Terrence and liaised with anyone and then
slipped back inside.” He lifts his head and stares at me with anguished eyes. “I’ve promised to keep you safe here. You must not have a lot of faith in me at this point.”
My heart bleeds at the torment in his expression. “Caden, don’t—”
His body turns into me, his hand sliding to cup my face. “No. I’ve watched you for days pretending with me.”
I blink. “W-what?”
“You kiss me, touch me, let me talk about us having a future like it’s something you want, too, but I see the truth in your eyes every single time.” He nods his head as though willing me to admit it. Both his hands thread through my hair, holding my head in place, forcing me to hold his gaze. Not that I could look away. “You’re biding your time. You’ve never planned on being with me beyond the moment.”
My heart races and I feel like a cornered rabbit, caught, nowhere to run. He sees right through me. I open my mouth and gape, trying to come up with something to say, to deny the truth that he flays me with like a whip.
“Caden, you don’t—”
“Oh, shut up,” he whispers, bringing his lips crashing over mine.
I know instantly this kiss is different. Every other time he kissed me, there was a level of restraint. He always claimed we had time. That we didn’t need to rush. He always held back, pulling away a little whenever things got too heated, whenever I kissed him a little too hard. Now he’s kissing me hard, heedless of clanging teeth.
His hands roam my body, make quick work of buttons. He hesitates at nothing, and neither do I. Trembling, he stretches out beside me, and it’s like he’s something from a dream. If I blink, he’ll vanish.
His mouth follows his hands, the contact searing. Skin on skin. Hands, lips, warm whispers on every curve, every hollow.
His face returns to me, staring deeply, one hand cupping my cheek, the other molded to my hip. His amber eyes gleam darkly at me.
I nod and then swallow, overcome, the taste and scent of him swirling all around me, reminding me that I’m still alive.
Looking into his eyes, I can see today echoed there, and I know he’s not that confident anymore. He’s seizing this—me—because he’s not convinced we have the time he always promised.
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