Riana felt a sharp pang of fear and anger—remembering what might have happened to Jannie because Jenson had dragged her into this mess.
Noticing her expression, Jenson let out an audible sigh. “I know, Riana. If anything happens to your sister because of my choices, I’ll never forgive myself. But we don’t know what’s happening yet. Let’s figure that out first.”
That was exactly what Mikel had said.
Riana wished Mikel was here now. His presence made everything seem less painful, somehow.
He wasn’t here, though. And Jenson was going to help her.
If she’d had to do this on her own, she wouldn’t have even known where to begin.
***
It was four in the morning, but Connor was still working in his office at headquarters. Sometimes he never went home—just dozed a few hours on the old sofa.
Jenson should have gotten in touch with him by now. He’d had more than enough time to meet Tava at Riana’s apartment, do the search, and then make sure Riana was safely hidden away somewhere.
His cousin must know he’d be waiting to hear from him. It was thoughtless to leave him hanging like this.
Connor had spent the last few hours writing messages—hiding his communication to Front contacts on various levels of the government and military in a miscellany of texts. Phone calls, however careful one was, had the potential to be tracked or recorded, so even urgent messages were safer written and then covertly delivered to their targets. They made calls occasionally—using carefully designed phones—but never very many at once and only when there was no time for a written message.
Connor had written the Front’s code himself, and he was the one who composed nearly all of the movement’s messages. They joked about his insistence on always doing it himself—even though most of his companions knew the code and knew how to write. He was a control-freak, they claimed. A micro-manager.
Maybe he was.
He knew how skilled he was at hiding the messages in harmless looking texts, though. And it would just take one sloppy composition for the Union to crack the code and bust open their entire communication network.
He’d never wanted to be any sort of leader. He’d been trained as a Reader and still thought of himself as one. In some ways, he envied Jenson, who’d been able to keep that part of his life intact.
Connor hadn’t been able to do so. He’d had to go underground completely, quitting his job, giving up his home and a lot of his friends, and dropping out of the Common Directory so he would no longer be on the Union radar.
He’d had no choice, and he didn’t regret it. There was too much work he needed to do.
And there was no sense in whining about what couldn’t be changed. It would only distract him from what was really important.
Right now, what was important was finding out what was going on with Riana.
When Jenson had called earlier to tell him that Jannie Cole had disappeared, Connor had been speechless. He couldn’t imagine why the Union would try such a thing, but the timing left few other explanations.
The repercussions were frightening, and not just for Riana.
If Riana was suspected, then she was in serious danger. And who knew how many more of them were suspected as well?
He’d been pacing the office, glaring at his phone—which wouldn’t ring—and his door—which wouldn’t swing open to reveal Jenson. As his growing fear started to overwhelm him, he shook himself off and returned to his desk.
No good would come from panicking. He might as well do what he could while he could do it.
He finished off another message—this one intended for the day manager at the diner next to the city’s Office of Public Security. He’d disguised it in an archaic menu—with meals and dishes written out with their descriptions, instead of presented in images as they were now—and he’d used aged card-stock and everything. He’d have the message delivered as a “gift” from the woman’s sister, claiming she’d seen the old-fashioned menu and thought her sister would like it to display in the diner.
It should do. She wouldn’t receive it until tomorrow afternoon, but hopefully that would be soon enough.
“I thought you’d be climbing the walls by now,” a dry voice spoke from the doorway.
Connor jerked and turned to see Jenson coming into the office.
“What took you so long?” Connor demanded, standing up and striding over to his cousin.
“We had a lot to do.” Jenson’s voice was mild, and his expression was infuriatingly calm. He leaned against Connor’s desk and crossed his arms in front of his chest.
Connor wanted to snarl but he knew such an obvious sign of frustration would only please Jenson—who took particular pleasure in teasing him about one of the few aspects of his life he didn’t feel completely in control of.
Riana.
“How is she? What’s going on?”
“She’s all right. Terrified, of course. But at least she’s stopped assaulting me.”
This cued a twinge of curiosity in Connor, but he didn’t take the time to pursue it. “Was Tava able to sense anything?”
“She concluded that the girl was taken out of the apartment by force.”
Connor closed his eyes briefly, trying not to imagine how Riana must have felt at this news. “Did she sense any...violence?”
“She didn’t think the girl was hurt, but she was sure she didn’t leave of her own accord. She said the residual currents of fear and shock were still strong.”
“She couldn’t identify who had taken her?”
“No. Apparently, they can only accurately identify people they’ve already met—they recognize the lingering aura or something. She wasn’t able to say who had kidnapped the girl. Just that she’d been kidnapped.”
“How did Riana take it?” Connor asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.
“As you’d expect. I’ve never seen her so pale. But she had herself under control and was already demanding to know what was being done to find and rescue her sister.” Jenson smiled faintly. “She’s something else—I can see why you have such a thing for her.”
“Had,” Connor corrected, although he knew the attempt to set Jenson straight was futile. “Where is she staying now?”
“At Tava’s. It seemed the easiest and safest possibility.” Jenson’s mouth twisted reluctantly. “I’m afraid she’s going to have to go completely underground now. We don’t know for sure that the Union suspect her, but we have to act as though they do.”
“I know. It’s too dangerous to let her go back to her job or her home now.”
It could happen so quickly, so permanently. Someone’s whole life could be transformed, turned upside down.
His had been. Three years ago now.
He hadn’t wanted it to happen to Riana.
“So what now?” Jenson asked, sounding tired for the first time. “What do I tell her tomorrow—or, rather, later today—when she demands to know what we’re going to do?”
“I’m sending out all the messages. We have to wait to hear back.”
“She’s not going to like that.”
“I know.” Connor stifled a groan. “It would be best if she just stays put all day.”
“There’s no way I’m going to tell her that. She’d lay me out if I even suggested she couldn’t be involved. I’m going to have to bring her along if we find out any information.”
“Just be careful.”
Things were getting riskier and riskier, and Connor felt torn in all directions trying to fix things. He just wished he had a plan to address all of these new developments.
“And don’t take any unnecessary risks with her safety.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” The corner of Jenson’s lips tilted up, and Connor knew exactly what he was thinking.
“Or yours.”
At this, Jenson looked slightly taken aback.
“You realize,” Connor added, with a different sort of twist in his gut, “That if Ria
na is suspected, very likely you are too.”
“I know. But I have to go back to work. There’s at least a small chance this has nothing to do with the Union’s suspicions, and we can’t throw away my position unless we need to.”
“Jenson—”
“I’ll be careful. I’m not a fool or a child. I’ve taken pretty good care of myself for more than three decades.” Jenson gave him a half-smile. “Believe me—I’m not a sacrificial victim.”
“I’ll vouch for that. But promise me you’ll keep an eye out for anything out of the ordinary. And be ready to get out of there fast.”
“Will do.”
They were silent for a minute, and Connor tried to breathe around the clench in his chest. Although his life was now one crisis after another, he usually dealt with everything with a practical kind of composure.
He wasn’t feeling either practical or composed at the moment.
He couldn’t shake the coiled sense of impending dread.
“You didn’t tell her about me, did you?” Connor asked, when the silence became too much.
Jenson was staring at the door to the office, although he didn’t seem to be seeing anything. “No. You told me not to. I don’t see the point, though.”
“You don’t have to see the point.” Connor felt a little awkward, but he wasn’t going to back down on this issue.
“It’s just as well,” Jenson said with a clear shift in tone. “She might have someone else on the sidelines.”
Connor stiffened despite his best intentions.
“She took a call while Tava was checking out the loft. She left the room, so I couldn’t hear it, but from her expression I’d wager it was a man. A man she was very glad to hear from.”
Connor forced down the resentment and jealousy that rose up in his chest. It was just as well. He couldn’t have Riana. He shouldn’t hope or expect her to be lonely for the rest of her life because of it.
Having pushed aside his petty reaction, he recognized another worry, though. They’d been keeping tabs on Riana for the last couple of years. How had they not recognized she had a man in her life?
Jenson had let him think in silence for a minute, but now he said, “At the risk of earning your ire, I’d like to suggest something.”
Connor was quite sure he didn’t want to hear it, but he just grunted noncommittally.
“I understand why you had to put your feelings for Riana on hold three years ago.”
Connor tightened his lips but held back his instinctive defensive reply.
Jenson appeared to recognize the tension in his cousin’s demeanor, but he didn’t comment on it. “But it seems to me that now, especially if she has to go underground, that your reasons for not acting are no longer relevant.”
Connor didn’t respond. He couldn’t let himself dwell on that possibility at the moment. There was too much going on and too many things still up in the air.
“I’m just saying,” Jenson concluded. “Think about it.”
There was a long moment of tense silence before Connor finally muttered, “She’s not to know about me yet.”
“All right. I won’t say a word.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s late. I’m going to get a couple of hours of sleep. I’ll check on Riana later and then head into work.”
Connor felt an odd, sudden twinge of affection, for this cousin who most of the time got on his nerves. He reached out and put a hand on the other man’s arm. “I’m serious. Be careful.”
“I will.” Jenson started to leave but said over his shoulder with a smile, “I always am.”
Five
“So, can you read people’s minds?”
Riana sat with a blanket and a mug of herbal tea on the couch in Tava’s trendy apartment. She wore a pair of Tava’s knit pajamas—slightly long and slightly snug around the hips and chest—and her face was scrubbed clean.
She wasn’t sure if she wanted to cry or wanted to start scouring the streets for her sister. At the moment, she was too tired to do either. She was too wound up to sleep, though, which was why she’d asked the random question of Tava.
Tava was a gorgeous black woman—with intelligent eyes, a sleek figure, and a stylish bob. She wasn’t what Riana would have expected from a Soul-Breather.
She wasn’t sure what she’d expected.
Tava was curled up in the overstuffed chair across from the couch, and she smiled pleasantly at Riana. “No. Not in the way you’re thinking. We can sense residual feelings in a room—particularly when those feelings are strong. But, unless I personally know the people involved, I can’t distinguish the source of the feelings. And I can’t get any particular information from someone unless I can actually touch them.”
“You can suck out someone’s soul?” Riana asked. “That’s what the stories always say.”
“At the worst extreme, we can empty someone of their spirit, yes—leaving just the body left,” Tava explained. She appeared matter-of-fact about such a possibility, and somehow that was comforting to Riana. “But spirits are resilient. Unless we take it all or take something too violently, the spirit will recover. So we can do lesser extents—different Breathers have different abilities to access subtle variations of the touch. For instance, I can touch someone and feel exactly what they’re feeling. Or I can often retrieve a particular memory or piece of information if it’s actively on their mind.”
Riana winced. “That sounds terrible. No wonder the Union has so many Breathers on the payroll.”
“The skill can be abused, of course.” Tava was still smiling. She was a friendly woman and a smart one. “But it’s not as simple as it sounds. Even the strongest Breather can’t take a thought or memory from someone against that person’s will without damaging them. If a person is not defending himself against us, we can sometimes get information they don’t intend to share. But it’s more like a lucky accident. We can’t sense anything they’re trying not to let us sense. We take what someone wants to give us. We can’t rape someone’s mind by force—if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“I was,” Riana admitted. She squirmed and gave Tava a rueful look. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine. Most people only know myths about Breathers, so I’m used to misunderstandings. I should have clarified that we can’t take information by force without killing the subject or damaging them permanently.”
Riana gulped. “Right.”
“How’s your tea?” Tava asked, twitching her eyebrows teasingly.
Unable to resist a smile, Riana replied, “It’s good. I’ve never had Tangerine tea before.”
They sat in silence for a moment, and the reality of the situation caught up with Riana again. She cleared her aching throat. “So you don’t think Jannie was killed?”
It was the third or fourth time she’d asked that of Tava, but the woman didn’t look annoyed or impatient. “I don’t. There wasn’t any feel of physical violence in your apartment. Just shock and fear and…” Tava drew her brows together. “…and purpose.”
Riana assumed the purpose was from whomever had come to kidnap Jannie.
Poor Jannie. She wondered what her sister was feeling right now. Where she was. Whether she was comfortable.
She didn’t have her medicine or any of her equipment except her wheelchair.
There were so many ways Jannie could be hurt.
“There are really good people in the Front,” Tava said. “We’ll get her back for you.”
They were comforting words, even if they were impossible to prove. “Thanks.”
“So,” Tava continued, clearly trying to change the subject. “Are you and Jenson an item?”
“What?”
“You and Jenson,” Tava persisted, leaning forward with a teasing smile. “I noticed a certain intensity there, so I was wondering…”
“Intensity is right. But it’s not what you’re thinking. In fact, at the moment, I’d like to wring his neck.”
“Well, sometimes that’s the sign of underlying inter
est.”
Shaking her head, Riana pulled the covers up over her shoulders. Unconsciously, she thought about Mikel. “There’s not. I think Jenson is smart and attractive—and I might like him more than I realized. But there’s nothing deeper there.”
Tava’s lips tilted up in a private smile. “Good.”
Riana sucked in a breath. “Wait a minute. Are you saying that you…”
Word and Breath (Wordless Chronicles) Page 8
