Word and Breath (Wordless Chronicles)

by Susannah Noel

  “Is he pressuring you to make some sort of decision?”

  “No. He’s backed off. He must know it’s way too soon for me. I’m not a Soul-Breather who can know someone in an instant. I’m just a normal girl. But...” She flushed again, remembering Mikel’s silence and searching eyes last night as they left the meeting. “But it makes me feel weird. I know he wants me to respond the way I... the way I did before I knew who he was. And I can understand why. He’s upturned his life because of me. Of course, he’d want some hope that it was worth it.”

  “All of that was his choice. You don’t owe him anything.” Again, there was no judgment in his tone, and his matter-of-factness made everything seem less intense and worrisome for Riana.

  “I know. I know. I just wish it would all go away for a little while. It’s too much.”

  Mikel wasn’t going to go away. That much she’d accepted. For whatever reason, irrationally, inexplicably, he was interested in her romantically, and he was going to great lengths to prove that to her.

  “I suppose this advice won’t help very much, but try not to stress too much about it. Things like this have a way of working themselves out. Eventually, you’ll know whether or not this is something you want to pursue.”

  Riana slanted Connor a little smile. “Thanks a lot. That’s very helpful.”

  “Sorry. That’s all I’ve got.”

  Laughing tiredly, Riana leaned over and gave him a half-hug.

  She felt safe with him. In a different way than she felt with Mikel.

  In her mind, Mikel was connected to strength and mystery and a hero-like capacity for rescue. Her instincts led her to turn to him for protection and a thrilling intimacy.

  But the way she felt with Connor was different. It was safe in a comfortable, homey way. Like he was family.

  Since her family had been ripped apart as a child, Jannie was the only other person she felt so close to.

  She let out a long breath—trying to let go of some of the tension—when Connor put a friendly arm around her. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she said.

  “Likewise.”

  She smiled at that Connor-like response. “It’s like having family again.”

  She was speaking to herself as much as to him, but she felt a brief tension in his body that immediately relaxed. She looked up at him self-consciously, “Was that too weird?”

  He gave a huff of laughter and settled his arm around her shoulders more securely. “No. It wasn’t weird at all. I agree.”

  There was something vaguely bittersweet in his words and in the slight crack on the last word.

  Riana suddenly remembered, with a sharp pang in her heart, that Connor had lost the closest member of his family two days ago.

  The thought hurt—and hurt more as she realized he’d been putting aside his own grief to make her feel better.

  She peered up at him again, but his expression was still mild and impassive. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  It was a sign of what was so good—so honest and impressive—about Connor that he didn’t pretend not to know what she was talking about. “Not really.”

  “Are you sure?” She’d been leaning against his side, but now she pulled up enough to face him. One hand rested lightly on his shoulder. “It’s only fair. You’ve been so great about listening to all of my woes. I can return the favor.”

  There was a little muscle twitching in his jaw, but his lips were soft and his eyes level as he shook his head.

  She exhaled and turned away, leaning against him again. Closing her eyes, she just enjoyed the warmth and comfort of his body. Of his strength and heart.

  “Jenson reminded me of you,” she said, after she heard Connor’s breathing slow down.

  “Did he?”

  He didn’t tense up again so she went on, “Yeah. And not just in the obvious ways, although your eyes were just the same.” Her throat clenched a little at the memory of Jenson’s eyes before he died. “He could always see right into the heart of the matter, just like you do. And he could put pieces together and see the whole without even trying. Just like you. He always seemed jaded. You know what I mean?” At his grunt of agreement, she continued, “But he wasn’t. At all. Not really. He really believed in things. He was going to tell me about them.”

  Despite her attempt to stay quiet and peaceful, she got choked up at the end.

  “He nagged me all the time,” Connor said, only a slight hoarseness revealing any emotion. “To not work all the time, to take more time for myself, to...to act on certain things he knew I wanted. He pretended to be an ironic, distanced observer of life. But he was really just a mother-hen.”

  She didn’t turn to look at him, not wanting him to withdraw again. She scooted down a little lower, getting more comfortable and adjusting his arm around her like a wrap. “What was he like as a kid?”

  Connor took a few deep breaths. She could hear them and feel them in his chest. “A lot the same. He was older than me, so I don’t remember him younger than ten. But he was always a smug know-it-all, trying to tell me how everything worked. I remember once—I was about six so he must have been around twelve—he convinced me to mow his parents’ lawn by telling me I was too big a weakling to do it all myself. So, of course, I had to meet the challenge. He stretched on the grass with a glass of lemonade as I pushed that lawnmower, red-faced and sweaty. And he kept saying, ‘You’re almost there. You’re almost there. Maybe you can do it after all.’”

  Connor’s voice got more strangled as he told the story, until the last words were just a choked rasp.

  Riana’s eyes flooded with tears, but she kept herself from crying out loud—not wanting to make Connor self-conscious.

  He took off his glasses and dropped them on the side table with his free arm. “I can’t believe he got himself killed.”

  Riana didn’t say anything. She didn’t know what to say. She just grabbed his hand and squeezed it in hers.

  Connor didn’t speak any further. And he didn’t break down. But he didn’t move from the couch, and he didn’t pull his arm back or dislodge her.

  They cuddled together in silence, and Riana took comfort in his undemanding companionship.

  Eventually, the stress of the week caught up to her. She relaxed against him so much that she actually dozed off.

  When she woke up, she was stiff and groggy—disoriented about her location and the time. She was still snuggled up against Connor.

  He had fallen asleep too.

  Twelve

  Mikel returned from his meeting with Largan in a good mood.

  He wasn’t happy exactly—in truth, he wasn’t quite sure what pure joy really felt like—but he felt the sense of pleased satisfaction he always experienced when he’d accomplished something, made definite strides toward fulfilling a goal.

  He hadn’t learned everything he wanted to know, but his trip down to the Office of Public Safety had not been wasted. He could see the beginnings of a plan take shape in his mind, and he started to hope he could actually find and rescue Riana’s sister.

  He began to imagine Riana’s face when he did.

  Mikel had a lot of ground to cover in making up for his deception and initial betrayal of her trust. He wasn’t blind to the fact that being vital in rescuing her sister might make some real advances toward that goal.

  Oddly enough, it wasn’t the only reason he wanted to do this for Riana. But he’d always been somewhat selfish, and that part of this character hadn’t really changed. If doing what his instincts led him to do—helping Riana because she needed him—also earned back her trust and affection, then that was just another reason to do it.

  So he was in a good mood when he returned to his borrowed apartment, which was where he’d arranged to meet Riana on his return.

  His good mood faded as soon as he saw she wasn’t alone. Connor was with her. Not someone Mikel wanted to see.

  And his good mood disappeared completely as he scrutinized them. They’d apparently bee
n seated in the living room, waiting for him, but they both got up at his arrival. On the surface, their appearance was normal—Riana in a pair of borrowed jeans and her long braids, and Connor in his glasses and another one of those old-fashioned jackets.

  But Mikel was nothing if not observant, and something about the resonance of the air between them felt different.

  Riana was flushed and her eyes were groggy, and Connor looked softer somehow, more unfocused than usual.

  They seemed more comfortable together than they had the evening before. Like they’d shared something in the time he’d been away.

  He felt a flare of irrational anger. He’d just risked his life and career, while they’d been having some sort of cozy tête-à-tête?

  Stifling the reaction, Mikel smiled at Riana and was relieved and gratified when she hurried over to grab his arm. “What took you so long?”

  If her grumpy tone didn’t prove she’d been worried about him, he didn’t know what did. Some of his previous good mood returning at this evidence that she cared about him, Mikel replied, “I came straight here. The meeting took a little longer than I’d thought.”

  She pulled Mikel down onto the sofa beside her. “So tell us. What did you find out?”

  Connor took the chair next to the sofa. He’d put up his defenses again. Mikel could sense it in the set of the other man’s shoulders and the sharpening of his eyes. It was a sign of a competent man, he had to admit, that Connor didn’t let his personal life bleed into the tasks he had to accomplish.

  That had always been true of Mikel too. He wondered if it still was.

  “The meeting did what I hoped it would do,” he began. “I was able to learn a couple of things that might be useful.”

  Riana was sitting right beside him, gazing up at him in a way that was very distracting. For one intense moment, he wished things were different between them—wished everything was different—so he could act, simply and naturally, on his feelings for her.

  He would have taken her in his arms. He would have kissed her. He would have shown her exactly what he felt for her.

  “Well?” she prompted. She didn’t look at all like she wanted to be kissed. She glared at him in frustrated impatience.

  The ironic part of his nature couldn’t help but laugh at himself. And, to prevent any more distractions, he focused instead on Connor, who frowned at him thoughtfully. “As I told you yesterday, I couldn’t get close enough to read Largan. It would have been too dangerous, and he would have suspected something. But I did get to talk to his assistant—who, it turns out, is more fascinated with Breathers than I realized. I fed his ego, and he tried to impress me with all of the important duties he performs for Largan and the office. I was close enough to open a faint connection when I asked him if he knew anything about the kidnapping. He said no.” Mikel turned back to meet Riana’s eyes. “But he was lying.”

  Riana sucked in a sharp breath—something between fear and hope sparking up in her eyes. “So you think he knows something?”

  “He definitely knows something. Obviously, he’s bound to secrecy, so he wouldn’t tell me. But he was lying. No doubt about that.”

  Connor leaned forward, pressing his fingertips together. “Were you able to sense anything more specific?”

  “No.” When Riana looked disappointed, Mikel explained hurriedly, “That’s not the way it works. Remember, I can’t read minds. And I can’t forcefully extract information without causing permanent damage. It has to be willingly given, and even then the subject will know what I’m doing. All I can do in these kinds of contacts is get stray glimpses and general impressions. Enough to know he was lying but not enough to get specifics.”

  Riana slumped a little. “Well, at least we know they know something, so we’re on the right track.”

  Ignoring Connor’s presence, Mikel brushed her jawline with his knuckle, getting her to look up at him again. “You didn’t let me finish. I did learn a few more things.”

  Perking up, Riana asked, “You did? What’s that?”

  “When he was trying to show off his responsibilities to me, he listed out his to-do list for today. File reports, contact bigwigs in the capital, organize the findings of the investigation of the shootings, arrange a couple of conference calls, and order supplies.”

  When both Riana and Connor just looked at him blankly, Mikel arched one eyebrow. “That last task sees a little strange, don’t you think? Taking the time to order office supplies in the middle of a serious crisis? And the way he said it made it sound important—like he had a secret he was just dying to tell. It made me wonder what kind of supplies he was ordering.”

  Riana’s lips parted slightly as she considered this.

  Connor said, “That is a good point. I don’t suppose you were able to sneak a peek at his files.”

  “No.” Mikel was sure the other man hadn’t intended the comment to be a complaint, but it annoyed him anyway. “But don’t you have a man who works in finances? Maybe, with a more specific direction, he could track down the supplies that were ordered and what they’re to be used for.”

  Connor nodded and glanced at his watch. “Donn. I’m meeting him this afternoon. I’ll get him to look into it.”

  Riana reached out again and closed her fingers around Mikel’s forearm, holding onto him in her urgency. “Do you think those supplies might have something to do with Jannie?”

  “I have no idea,” Mikel admitted, wishing he could be more certain and see more hope grow in her eyes. “But the sense of secrecy I got from him makes me think they might be important. At least, it’s a possibility.”

  “Thank you for your help,” Connor said, after clearing his throat. He was watching the two of them closely, with a determinedly blank expression. But Mikel wasn’t fooled.

  Connor didn’t at all like the way Riana was touching or looking at him.

  “We wouldn’t have this lead without you.”

  Mikel nodded, respecting the other man for saying what must have been hard. “You’re welcome. But there was something else.” He paused, as Riana and Connor turned to him in expectation. “I was able to come into contact with Smyde and open a very brief connection.”

  “You were?” Riana gasped. “Did you find out anything?”

  “He’s definitely hiding something. I couldn’t get any specifics. But he knows something he doesn’t want me to know, and he was lying in the meeting he had with me and Largan. What’s your sense of the man?”

  The question was aimed at Riana, who answered it after a moment’s reflection. “I never really liked him. He’s efficient. He always follows the rules. And he’s loyal to the Union—so loyal it’s almost scary. He doesn’t have an open mind like most Readers do. He doesn’t even seem to appreciate the beauty of the written word. But I never would have thought he would do something like kidnap Jannie. I mean, what could be the purpose behind it?”

  Mikel gave a half-shrug. “I have no idea. But he’s definitely hiding something.” He glanced over at Connor. “Is there any way he could be watched?”

  “Maybe. It would be a risk.”

  “I think it would be a risk worth taking.” Mikel glanced away, staring at the wall but seeing again the look in Smyde’s eyes during their silent confrontation at the door to Largan’s office. “He hates me.”

  “Just because you’re a Soul-Breather?” Riana asked, empathy and understanding in her eyes. “I always suspected he had that kind of prejudice, although he never admitted it openly with me.”

  “I’ll see what we can do about arranging a tail,” Connor said, his blunt voice breaking the gaze Riana and Mikel had been sharing.

  “Good. And Donn will look into the supplies. We need to figure out our next step from here.” Mikel recognized, as he said the words, that it sounded like he was trying to take charge.

  He supposed it wasn’t particularly diplomatic, and Connor’s expression verified this fact. But Mikel was tired of giving other people control of the situation just to
keep the peace. Every day Riana’s sister was gone made it less likely they would find her unharmed. The slow, careful process of collecting and assessing information that Connor and the Front seemed to favor was not the way Mikel preferred to work.

  He was a man of action. He didn’t mind taking risks. He wanted to give Riana back her sister, and he was tired of waiting around until someone else decided it was time.

  “We’re waiting for some information,” Connor said, his blue eyes holding Mikel’s in an obvious challenge, “It would be foolish to act prematurely.”

  Mikel didn’t back down. “I can think of at least one thing to do that might give us the information we need without waiting.” He heard Riana suck in her breath and felt her hand tighten on his arm. It was an encouragement, but he didn’t turn his eyes away from Connor. Something—maybe autonomy, maybe self-determination—was at stake here, and Mikel wasn’t about to lose it.