I follow him through the house, up the stairs, and into the living room.
He sits on the couch, motioning for me to sit next to him. “What did she want?”
“She gave me my cover for the Arnoff job. I go into the school soon.” Luke nods. Clearly the Director has been keeping him in the loop. Their constant communication gives me pause. What if it’s all another game? Another test they’re setting me up to fail? I hesitate. “She asked about us working together. She asked about you.”
“What did you say?”
“I told her you were helpful.” I make a face. “So basically I lied.”
“How did you manage that?”
“I’m better than I was. A lot better.”
He doesn’t look impressed.
“Besides. I said I lied. I didn’t say she believed me.”
“You don’t think she trusts me.”
“I don’t know what she thinks. The Director is one of the most difficult people to read. But yeah, I think she was testing us. I’m not sure if she was fishing for information on you or me.”
“Or both of us. She doesn’t like people forming bonds. Each man is an island and all that. That’s why she chose you—” He’s silent for a beat. “That’s why she chose you to be the one to kill me. To try, at least. She knew it would hurt the most if it was you.”
This time it’s not a twinge of guilt that hits me, but a full-on punch. I’m ashamed to admit I never considered that before. I always knew part of why I was chosen to eliminate Luke was the fact that we were close, but I never considered the possibility that the Director wanted to shatter the ties between us.
Mission accomplished.
And still—it doesn’t make sense. Some of us are used for more missions than others; some of us have extra skill sets and are better suited for specific missions, but we aren’t supposed to stand out. We’re ranked internally and the Academy monitors our ability, but beyond that they don’t really care about us. What Luke’s suggesting—that the Director has somehow taken a special interest in one of us—goes against everything I’ve seen at the Academy.
“What did you do?”
Confusion flickers in his brown eyes. “What do you mean?”
“You had to do something to have the Director interested in you. There’s no way she could know what the target told you. So why is she asking questions about you? Why you?”
“I’m not so sure her questions are about me.”
“What would she want with me?”
“You tell me.”
“There’s nothing.” I think back to all of my interactions with her, analyzing and cataloguing each memory. I am her best asset, true. And yet there’s nothing I’ve done—or failed to do—that would raise her suspicions about me. I’ve been a good asset. I follow the rules for the most part.
If you don’t count my trips to the confessional.
“You mentioned before that you noticed someone following you.”
“I thought that was you.”
“Trust me. If I’d been following you, you wouldn’t have noticed me.”
My eyes narrow. “You’ve gotten cockier since you left the Academy.”
“With good reason. You have no idea what it’s like outside of the Academy. Your missions are easy in comparison.” He leaps up from the couch, stalking toward the kitchen. He grabs another crystal glass from one of the cabinets, pouring the same amber colored liquid from before.
Drinking is discouraged at the Academy; we’re always supposed to be ready for an assignment. He swallows the drink in a big gulp.
I frown. “You haven’t changed. You’re just as reckless as you used to be.”
“That’s funny coming from you.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re the last person who should lecture anyone about recklessness.” He pauses. “I saw you. At the church.”
For a moment, I forget to breathe.
Advantage, Luke.
“So you have been following me.”
“I followed you once. The morning before we met in the Director’s office. That was it.”
I don’t know what to believe anymore. We’re taught from the beginning not to trust anyone, that everyone is deceiving us. We’re taught that our only allegiance is to the Academy.
And yet I keep coming back to him.
“They would kill you if they knew,” Luke says, any trace of humor gone.
“I know.”
“Then why do you go? Why risk it?”
How can I explain something I barely understand myself?
“Why did you come back?” I counter. “Why not just run? If you’re so good at hiding and you really think the Academy isn’t what they claim to be, then why not take off? You don’t have anything tying you here. Did you come back because you want some kind of revenge against me? Or did you come back to destroy the Academy? Or did you come back to kill two birds with one stone?”
He folds his arms in front of his chest, his expression hooded. “You still don’t trust me.”
“I don’t. If you want to get back at me, then just do it. You want to go head-to-head? Fine. But I’m not going to risk my sister getting hurt by this. I’m not going to go up against the Academy on some hunch that you have. A hunch that may or may not even be true.”
“What if I got you proof?”
“Why won’t you let this go?”
“How many kills have there been since I left? Six? Ten? How many lives have you taken? Wouldn’t you want to know if everything you did was a waste? They trained us to kill—to accomplish our missions. But what if we’re not doing what we thought we were? We’re supposed to be doing good. We’re supposed to be writing wrongs. Could you live with yourself if it was all a lie? Isn’t that why you go talk to that priest?”
I blanch.
“Don’t you want better for Grace?”
“Grace is in computers.”
“Grace is in computers, for now. But what if the Director changes her mind? Do you want Grace doing what we do? Do you want your sister to be a killer?”
He always did know which buttons to push.
“Why do you need me?”
“Because as fucked up as it is, I don’t have anyone else. I didn’t come back to help you with your assignment. I didn’t come back here for revenge. I told you that I came back here because I was suspicious about the Academy. And I was. But I’m not the one who chose to get involved with this Arnoff deal. The Director requested me. She wanted me to be your partner. And yeah, I agreed because I thought it would give me access to the Academy. But I’m not the one sucking you into this. They threw us together for a reason, just like they tore us apart for one. Don’t you want to know why?”
“Why does it matter?”
“Because it does.”
“Why?”
Suddenly I’m tired of dancing around the elephant in the room. Tired of not talking about it. He fucked me, and then he ended it, and now he’s back acting like there’s something between us when he was the one who told me there was nothing at all. I need to know why.
“Why?” I repeat.
###
I wonder if Luke’s going to answer me. His gaze is shuttered; I’m not the only one with secrets. There are parts of himself he doesn’t want to share, things he doesn’t want me to know. It only makes me want answers more.
“Are we ever going to talk about it? We didn’t talk about it then and we’re not talking about it now. How are we supposed to work together when there’s all this doubt between us?” I ask. “What happened that night?”
“We fucked. It was a mistake.”
I flinch. His words are meant to be careless, but his eyes say something else entirely. He wants to hurt me like I’ve hurt him, and I don’t know how to move past this, or if we even can. But if we’re going to work together, we have to try.
“Why?”
“You know why. For the same reason you were willing to kill me when they told you to. Because
we can’t form attachments. We can’t afford to. We belong to them. There’s nothing left for anyone else.”
He’s right, but that only explains why he pushed me away; it doesn’t explain why he pulled me toward him. Why he started something between us he had no business starting.
“So why did you kiss me?”
With that question and the memory it evokes, I’m instantly seventeen again. In the memory we’re in his room practicing fighting moves when he rolls on top of me, his body—leaner but still muscular—pressing into me. And then he’s kissing me, stripping my clothes off, carrying me to the bed.
“Because I couldn’t not kiss you.” He sighs. “I was young and I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry. We were both so young. I know it was a mistake. I know it was dangerous. I shouldn’t have confused things like that between us.”
I don’t even know what to say. We’re both so fucked up. I want to push deeper, want to make him give me more, even as I struggle to know what I want out of all of this. Even when I know we can’t afford the distraction. We’re in way over our heads and I need him as an asset more than I can want him as a man.
“What are you going to do about Ares?”
He rises from the couch again, pacing the length of the living room.
“I’m going to get proof.”
“Yeah, but how? No one is going to talk to you…” I flash back to sitting in the Director’s office, her pulling out a file. My file. And then I know exactly what Luke wants to do.
“You can’t be serious.”
“It’s the only way.”
“She’ll kill you. If you could even get in without getting caught—which I don’t think you could—then you’re still dealing with the fact that as soon as she discovers her files have been stolen, they’re going to come after you. If they’re already suspicious, you’ll be the first person they look for.”
“I’m not going to steal the files. I don’t think the paper files are where the important stuff is kept. The real information is going to come from her computer files.”
The word “computer” sets me off. “You’re not involving Grace. She’s too young.”
“I don’t need Grace to get into the office. In fact, I don’t want her there. But if I can get the documents copied from the computer onto a flash drive, they’re likely to be encrypted. I need someone to break the encryption. Someone I can trust.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Would you rather I tell the Director about your little visits to the church in Knightsbridge?”
Fuck.
He stares at me, unblinking. I rise from my position on the couch, coming to stand before him. I don’t bother trying to appeal to his better nature. He doesn’t have one.
“You want to threaten me? Fine. I can just as easily tell the Director about your little conspiracy theory, about your plan to take down the Academy.”
“You can try.” Luke walks over to a desk at the end of the room, pulling out a manila envelope. He hands it to me, his expression unsmiling. “But without proof…”
My fingers shake as I open the envelope, my heart thudding in my chest, knowing what I’ll find. I pull out the photos, staring at pictures of me in church—heading toward the confessional booth. It’s all over. We both know it’s enough to end my life. Stupid, so stupid. I know better.
Never get caught.
I jerk my head up, meeting his gaze, expecting to see satisfaction lingering in his eyes, but finding a sort of wariness there.
“What do you want?” I ask.
“I need your help getting into the Director’s office.”
This really couldn’t get any worse. It’s a suicide mission and these pictures are a death sentence.
“When?”
“Tonight.”
Chapter Eleven
The wig is short and red. I shouldn’t even be here, not after my conversation with Luke, but I can’t resist.
This time I take better precautions, in part to atone for my earlier sloppiness. I change my path several times, following the most indirect route to the church. I don’t take anyone for granted. Every person on the street is analyzed and discarded. I should have noticed Luke.
When I finally enter the church, all of my senses are honed on my surroundings. The elderly woman in the corner praying could be a covert operative. The man lighting a candle in one of the chapels could be an Academy asset. I analyze each member of the church, using all the skills they gave me. When I’m finally satisfied I make my way toward the confessional, my head ducked. Between the scarf wrapped around my neck and the wig, it’s difficult to get a clear shot of my face.
I enter the confessional booth and skip the pleasantries the moment the screen cover lifts.
“I need help.”
Father Murphy makes no sign he recognizes me, but we both know he does.
“With what?”
“My little sister. She needs to be somewhere safe for a while. Can you provide that for her?”
“There’s a shelter in Bayswater. They offer refuge to battered women and children. It’s not going to be a permanent fix for her—especially since she’s a minor. At some point, they’ll have to involve the appropriate agencies.”
By then, I will have already gotten Grace out of there. It isn’t a perfect solution, but it’s all I have.
“How do I get her there?”
“I can’t disclose their location, but if you bring her here I promise to take her myself.”
I haven’t randomly decided to start visiting Father Murphy. I studied him for months before attending my first confession; I’ve seen nothing that makes me think he is anything other than who he seems to be. He is kind to the elderly and children; he helps out at food banks and works with the homeless. His homilies are measured and inspiring. If I have to trust someone with Grace, Father Murphy seems like the safest bet.
“Thank you.”
“What about you?”
“I’ve got it covered.”
###
My next stop is Kensington.
Going into the Academy tonight changes everything. I’m about to cross a line there’s no turning back from and it’s time to settle accounts.
I wait until darkness falls to head over to Arnoff’s school. I haven’t had much time to prep a plan, but my best play is to look like I belong.
I’m wearing my “Mandy” outfit again, this time pairing the purple sweater with a black skirt that hugs my legs. I’m pretty sure I look ridiculous, but it’ll get the job done.
I find a group loitering in front of the school, smoking and talking about the evening of clubbing they have planned. There’s a guard posted inside the building, but no one at the entrance to the school. Besides, I hardly look threatening.
I walk up to the group and get a smoke from one of the guys, flashing him my best smile. Ten minutes later, I’m in the building and on Arnoff’s floor.
I walk up to his door, scanning the hallway. It’s empty, his bodyguards nowhere in sight. I pull out my lock pick kit from my bag, kneeling so I’m eye level with the opening. Luke taught me how to pick my first lock when I was twelve.
In under a minute, I’ve opened the door and am strolling into Arnoff’s room. It’s empty, the lights off. Now I wait.
Thirty minutes later, the door slides open and Arnoff walks in, flipping on the light switch. His eyes widen at the sight of me sitting on his bed.
“Hello.” He closes the door behind him and grins. “I’m not complaining or anything, but do we know each other?” He walks closer to me, his voice low and seductive. “Because if we don’t, we definitely should change that.”
I rise from the bed. “Where are your guards?”
A glimmer of confusion flashes across his face. “They’re taking a break. They don’t follow me around the school.”
This guy is way too relaxed.
“You aren’t safe. Someone has put a hit on your life. You need to keep your guards close to you at all times. Don’t trus
t anyone. Not even girls that show up in your bed.”
When I don’t do the Arnoff job, they’ll just send someone else. I don’t know if he’s guilty or innocent, but after Luke’s story I can’t take the risk of deciding that myself. I don’t want another man’s blood on my hands when he could be innocent of the charges they’ve levied against him. It’s not about saving this boy; it’s about standing up and refusing to be a pawn on their board. If I’m going to play their game then I’m going to be a fucking queen.
He blinks at me. “Is this some kind of joke?”
“No.”
“Who are you?”
“It doesn’t matter, but you need to take this seriously. It’s not a joke. Or a game. There are people who want to weaken your father’s power and they’re willing to kill you to do it.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Consider it a favor.” I walk past him, moving toward the door, my mind already on the next part of the evening and the impossible task we have ahead of us.
“Wait a second. You can’t just drop a bomb like that and then leave.” He makes a move toward me.
I really wanted to do this the easy way, but I can’t risk him making a scene or yelling for help. In a blink of an eye, I have him on his knees.
“What the hell?”
He’s bigger than I am, but I have training and the element of surprise working in my favor. Using my body weight, I hold him down as I grab the black cord from my bag with my free hand. He struggles while I use the cord to tie his arms to the desk leg.
He opens his mouth to yell—
I grab a shirt from the pile of laundry at the foot of his bed, stuffing it into his mouth. He fights me every step of the way as I tie the ends of the fabric behind his head in a makeshift gag.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to do this, but you didn’t exactly leave me much choice.”
His arms strain against the cords.
“You said your guards would be back soon. It’s not like you’re going to be here all that long. Just don’t fight it; you’ll be fine.”
His gaze is murderous. I doubt he realizes I’ve likely just saved his life.
I glance down at my watch. Time to go.
I open the door to Arnoff’s room and before I can step into the hall, my body collides with something solid.
Between Shadows Page 9
