Word and Breath (Wordless Chronicles)

by Susannah Noel

  “Wow.” She wanted to look around to see if she could spot the man but figured it wouldn’t be a good idea. “I hadn’t realized the Front was so well-organized and...and…”

  Jenson cocked an eyebrow. “And what?”

  “And big,” she admitted with a shrug. “I always thought of it as a few dozen rebel-types lurking in the seedy underbelly of the city.”

  “That’s what the Union wants you to think.”

  Jenson was still staring at the fountain, so Riana glanced over to look too. She’d seen the fountain before—a memorial to early Union heroes, water shooting out of the five muskets the soldiers were sporting.

  “How did you get involved?”

  He winced—so briefly she barely registered it. “Too hard to explain.”

  He’d seemed pretty open about everything else so she wondered at his reticence now.

  “Do most people who work for the Front have a grudge against the Union?”

  “Some do.” Jenson turned to meet her eyes, his focus returning to her completely. “The woman we’re meeting now lost two of her three sons in a Union offensive. But not everyone joins out of vengeance.”

  Riana sighed, trying to feel what other people might feel—something she hadn’t done in a really long time. “So why else? If not for vengeance, why else risk your life this way?”

  “Ideals?” Jenson spread his hands, both the gesture and his tone making the word sound almost ironic, although the expression in his eyes was utterly serious. “I know it’s out of fashion to talk about such things—everyone wants to be cynical. And some people are just unhappy and want to embrace anything that might change the world for the better. But underlying everyone’s motivations is this implicit knowledge that the world should be better. That recognition leads a lot of people to fight for what they believe the world should look like. You’ve felt it too. Don’t tell me you haven’t.”

  Riana shifted in her seat and looked down at her hands, glad her eyes were hidden by her sunglasses.

  “Some people have talked themselves out of ideals completely, but some people are still looking for them. And others have always known them.” He gently touched her hand. “That’s you.”

  She sucked in her breath and cut her eyes back up to his.

  “Your grandfather taught you, didn’t he?” He paused and leaned forward toward her, as if he’d forgotten where they were and why they were there. “Don’t you want to know more about his work?”

  Riana’s lips parted. “You know more?”

  “I know more.”

  Suddenly frightened by the intensity, Riana cleared her throat. Attempting to break the tension, she asked, “How do you know so much about me, anyway? Have you been spying on me?”

  He laughed. “Not me. I just keep my eyes open. And we’ve been friends a long time, haven’t we?”

  Riana blinked behind her sunglasses and her lips parted again.

  Evidently seeing her surprise, Jenson drew his brows together. “What is it?”

  “Nothing,” she said, her cheeks reddening as she admitted, “I just hadn’t realized we were friends. Until now.”

  Two days ago, she would have claimed she didn’t have any friends.

  “Of course we are,” Jenson said, still looking confused. “What do you think a friend is?”

  She’d thought Connor was her friend, but then he’d disappeared completely. Probably had forgotten all about her.

  For just a moment, she was tempted to ask Jenson if he’d heard from Connor at all in the last three years. They were cousins, after all.

  Then Jenson’s gaze shifted over her right shoulder. His face changed as he tensed up in his seat.

  Riana assumed that meant the informant was approaching.

  The informant was a woman who looked to be in her fifties. She had flyaway graying hair and a frazzled expression, and she sat down stiffly in the third chair at the table.

  Jenson introduced her as Marina.

  Riana immediately put aside all her other thoughts and reflections now that she was about to hear information about Jannie.

  Yes, there was a lot going on, and Riana herself was going through a lot of emotional changes lately.

  But her sister was what mattered most.

  “So you’ve heard something that might help us?” Jenson asked, not wasting any time in small talk.

  “Maybe.” Marina looked horribly uncomfortable. Almost as if she was in pain. “There has been some talk about a captured young woman.”

  Riana gasped. “Jannie? What have you heard?”

  Marina turned to look at her squarely for the first time. Her face twisted until it was ugly.

  With a whimper, Marina then jerked her head back to Jenson. “I’m sorry,” she choked, barely getting the words out. “They threatened... they said they’d kill Brone—my last boy.”

  Riana froze, a chill slicing through her, keeping her from breathing, moving, thinking. She couldn’t fully process what Marina meant, but she instinctively knew the implications.

  Jenson made a rough sound in his throat and gave a sharp look around the café and the crowded square.

  Riana never knew if he’d seen something or if it was pure instinct that led him to throw himself into her, sending them both down in an ungainly heap to the concrete beneath them.

  At the same time, Riana felt more than heard something whiz by very close to her neck.

  Then she heard Jenson, who was lying on top of her, grunt.

  A woman at a nearby table screamed. Marina started to sob.

  Riana couldn’t see anything. Her hands and knees were scraped up—the healed scratches from her fall from the mugger last week reopening from the force of her fall now. Jenson was heavy, tense, and panting on top of her, trapping her in place.

  After just a second, he heaved himself up and grabbed her by the ribs to pull her up too. “Come on,” he gritted out, “Run.”

  The urgency in his voice would have spurred her on, even if her own realization of the situation hadn’t.

  This was a trap.

  There was another whizzing beside her—this time near her right cheek. But she was moving and it didn’t hit her.

  Instead, she saw Marina jerk and fall forward, blood spurting out in a horrifying stream from her throat.

  Riana gagged, almost smelling the blood as it pooled around Marina’s awkwardly bent body.

  But Jenson kept pushing her forward, his force causing her to stumble as she stepped over the short iron fence. When she glanced back to watch him follow, she realized that the shoulder of his jacket was soaked in blood.

  “You’re shot!”

  He ignored her, taking her by the arm and hauling her with him as he half-limped, half-ran into the chaotic crowd.

  Those who had seen what happened were running frantically to get away. Others, farther away from the café, just gaped, trying to figure out what had caused the disruption. People were moving in all directions, however, which prevented a clear path out of the square.

  Riana was trying to run in a straight line but was obstructed by three businessmen who were trying to clear the mob and get onto the lawn near the café.

  “Push!” Jenson ordered gruffly, moving behind her and using his body to press her forward. “Get through them!”

  Riana pushed, forcing one man out of the way and squeezing in between two others. She was sweating and shaking and felt like she might pass out at any moment. She’d never been so afraid before, and she could still see the blood spurting out of Marina’s neck.

  Jenson’s hands were on her back, and so the jerk she felt alerted her more than the small grunt she heard him make.

  She turned to look over her shoulder. His face was dead white and streaming with sweat.

  And blood now mingled into the streams running down one side of his face.

  He’d just been hit again by the long-range rifle, the sniper just grazing him along the side of his head. His hair was matted with blood, but it couldn’
t have been too deep a wound. He was still on his feet. Still conscious.

  Conscious enough to give her another shove. “Go!”

  Riana was on the edge of sobbing, but fear strangled off the emotion. She kept moving, pushing through the mass of bodies, not even knowing where they were running.

  Fortunately, the crowd had closed in behind them now too so they weren’t easy targets for the sniper.

  That was why Jenson was staying behind her.

  He was using his body to block hers from the shooter.

  Her ankle twisted in her high heel, but she managed not to fall, the press of the bodies around her keeping her upright.

  She felt more than saw a break in the crowd to her left, so she leaned that way, sidestepping a woman with a baby so she wouldn’t accidently push them down.

  It was a good move. They made more progress in that direction. When they changed directions, Jenson altered his position beside her, still keeping his body between hers and the shooter.

  He was panting loudly and slowing down, and she moved her arm around his waist to help support him.

  He’d been shot twice, and he was still trying to protect her. Riana held onto him as tightly as she could and kept moving.

  If they could get into the alley across the street, they’d be completely out of view of the shooter.

  “You go on,” Jenson said, his voice strangled and weak. He tried to pull away from her. It seemed like half his body was covered in blood.

  “No way.” Riana didn’t let him go and kept supporting him as they hobbled as quickly as they could toward the alley.

  They’d broken out of the worst of the crowd now, though, and they weren’t yet out of range of the sniper.

  Jenson seemed to realize this, and he jerked her body back in front of his again.

  With horrifying acuteness, Riana felt that same whizzing motion again. She felt a stinging in her upper arm but barely registered it.

  Then there was yet another bullet.

  But this one never reached her.

  This time, when Jenson gave that same sickening jerk, she didn’t see where the bullet lodged.

  It must have gone into his back.

  “Jenson,” she whimpered, having trouble supporting his weight.

  There was blood coming out of his nose now. Sickening and utterly surreal. “They want you dead,” he choked out. She’d never seen anyone as white as him. “That means you have to stay alive. Now run!”

  She wanted to argue but there was nothing more to be said.

  Jenson’s blue eyes were still open.

  But his body was a dead weight in her arms.

  Six

  “What’s happening? Tell me what’s happening!”

  Connor was practically spitting into his phone, and he gripped the back of his chair with his free hand so tightly his fingers were white.

  Kelvin was in the Square, serving as backup for Jenson and Riana at their meeting with Marina. He’d called Connor less than a minute ago to tell him Jenson had been shot in the shoulder and Marina had been killed.

  Kelvin was using an earpiece to talk on the phone, but Connor could hear muffled shouting from the people around him. “Hold on,” Kelvin said, his voice tense and strangled. “I can’t see—”

  “Where are they? Go help! You’re supposed to be watching them.” Connor bit his lip to keep from yelling any more at Kelvin. It wasn’t his fault.

  A sniper. Aiming almost certainly for Riana.

  Who would want to kill her? The Union surely wanted her alive so they could get information from her. Otherwise, why kidnap her sister?

  There was some chaotic, unspecified noise on the phone for a few seconds. Then Kelvin said, “There! I see them—” Then he gave a sharp gasp. “That one was too close.”

  “Are they all right?” Connor could vividly imagine the scene—his cousin and Riana in a hysterical crowd, being slowly picked off by the shooter. He pushed out the door of his office and bolted down the steps, although there was no possible way he could make it to Canning Square in time.

  “Riana got clipped in the arm, I think. I can’t see...” Kelvin must be running now. He was out of breath and jerky.

  Connor pushed out the door to the warehouse and was hit by the light of the midday sun. “Is she all right?”

  He knew he sounded overly needy, but he felt helpless and absolutely terrified. He never should have let Riana go to this meeting.

  “I’m almost—” Kelvin broke off suddenly. And his voice transformed in a way that was unmistakable. “Oh, my word, no!”

  Connor jerked to a stop, freezing in sudden terror. “What? Kelvin, tell me! Did he kill her?”

  ***

  It had taken Mikel all morning to find Riana.

  He’d called her that morning, but she’d only talked to him briefly. She’d thanked him again for helping her ask around about Jannie and for being so kind, but she’d sidestepped all of his attempts to find out where she was or to make arrangements to see her later that day.

  He knew she must be getting help from friends—and there was a strong likelihood they were in the Front—but he was more frustrated than he’d expected that Riana hadn’t given in to his gentle nudging.

  He needed to find her if he wanted to complete his assignment. Plus, he didn’t like the idea of her out there alone, taking absurd risks to find her sister.

  Since he had no other methods of locating Riana, Mikel ended up following Jenson Talon. The man had gone into work—a gutsy move that surprised Mikel—where he stayed to work all morning. Mikel even had time to stop by Largan’s office to see if he could find out any further information. He was back well in time to tail Talon as he left the Annex at lunchtime

  Talon was no fool. He was more careful and efficient than Mikel had predicted. He almost lost him when the man doubled back around the courthouse, and he would have lost him in the main terminal of the subway had Mikel not been gifted with the heightened senses of a Soul-Breather.

  Instead of getting on a subway car, Talon milled around in the departing crowds until he slipped back up the stairs on the far side. Mikel would never have caught sight of him had his keen vision not picked out the man’s tweed jacket on the opposite side of the terminal just before it slipped out of sight.

  Talon was taking precautions. He was making sure he wasn’t followed.

  But Mikel wasn’t an ordinary tail.

  He followed Talon back to a trendy apartment building near downtown and had the foresight to make a loop around the building to locate the back exits.

  There was only one. So he ducked behind the corner of the alley to wait.

  As he’d expected, Talon reemerged from the back exit. He had a woman with him.

  Riana.

  She’d changed her hair and was wearing sunglasses, but Mikel wasn’t likely to mistake her. She was more dressed up than usual—in clothes that emphasized her figure the way her regular clothes did not—and she must have been wearing high heels beneath the cuffs of her long pants.

  She looked beautiful. And distant somehow. Mikel wasn’t sure what he thought about her change in appearance.

  He stayed out of sight, waiting until they were a block ahead before he started to follow.

  At first, he thought they might be heading toward Riana’s loft, since they were walking in that direction.

  Before they reached her street, however, they made a turn and went into Canning Square.

  So Mikel stationed himself in the shadow of a building across the square to watch and wait some more.

  He didn’t like the intensity of the conversation Riana was having with Talon—so intense Mikel could sense it even from this distance. He didn’t like how the man’s hands kept touching her or how she reached to grab his arm.

  He particularly didn’t like the demeanor of the woman who came to join them. She was nervous and jittery, and she held herself like she was ready to flee.

  That was Mikel’s first warning. He stepped out
of the shadow and scanned the Square, expecting to see a squad of Union soldiers approaching.

  But no one arrived to arrest Talon and Riana.

  Instead a sniper started firing from Mikel’s right.

  He saw Talon get hit in the shoulder and then the nervous woman get hit in the neck. The Square broke into confused panic, and Mikel had trouble seeing anything at all.