Trade Secrets

by Beth Ryan

  I ground my teeth as I worked, furious at myself for the choices I’d made. After years of being the one to help others escape their misfortune, I was finally desperate enough to follow their lead and succumb to the one thing I had always sworn I would never do. My own actions had backed me into a corner, and there was only one option left to me now, only one way to escape.

  I spun around, grabbing the transfer cable with a hard yank, flakes of Cooper’s dried blood still coating one end. Stuffing it into the pocket of my coat, I tapped a few more keys to wipe every bit of evidence from the hard drive in one fell swoop. I pulled out a cigarette, watching the screens flash through as they all shut down and erased themselves from the hard drive. I didn’t take my eyes off the computer until every one of them had vanished.

  Satisfied that there was nothing left here to connect Audry to any of my crimes, I whirled toward the door, only to stumble to a halt at the last second. Turning back, I reached for the still bloody scalpel on my desk. Gripping it for dear life, I headed back down the stairs, determination rushing through me, making my head pound. There was a chance, a very small chance, that I could make it out of this alive.

  15

  A cloud of drywall dust rose up around me as I raced down the stairs. I hit the last step and held my breath through it all. Swinging the door open, I bolted.

  A figure stood on my stoop, fist raised to knock and blocking my path as I ran full tilt into the night. I backpedaled, trying not to slam into the figure, but the move caused my center of gravity to shift and my feet to come out from under me. I landed hard on the cement steps with a loud thump. Pain shot through my body, and a grunt forced its way between my lips.

  My unfinished cigarette fell to the ground.

  “Mister Donovan?” the man asked in a rasping voice that came straight from my worst nightmares.

  I didn’t have to look up to know which Lemnis had come to retrieve me. That voice had spoken words of condemnation at every execution in the past ten years, and the desire to never hear it utter my name was a deciding factor in keeping myself one step ahead of the law at all times. It seemed he had caught up with me at last.

  I nodded and pulled myself off the ground, shoving the scalpel into my pocket before he could realize I had it. In my mind, the words “stay calm” repeated over and over again to no avail. There was nothing I could say, nothing I could do that would get me out of this now. When the head of the FTC came knocking, you did whatever he asked of you or you risked suffering the consequences. In my case, those consequences would be a quick death.

  “Come with me,” he said, and so I did.

  As Robert Eisley led me toward the transporter, I took deeper breaths and hid my shaking hands in my jacket. My hope of escape was fading with every step, but the blade hidden in my coat left me one last chance at freedom.

  I didn’t take it.

  A Lemniscate death would draw too much attention. Even if no one were watching, and they always were, his fellow Lemnis would know where he was going and who he was meeting with. It wouldn't matter if I could disappear. There would be too much scrutiny placed on my life, on the people I’d associated with, and I couldn’t do that to any of the people I’d helped. Especially Audry.

  Releasing my vice grip on the scalpel, I slid into the backseat and stared through the front window. There was a certain story to a man, a way to determine what he was about. A slight tremor in his hands or the direction of his gaze could speak volumes over the lies that came from his lips. All it took was one misplaced gesture, and the body could betray secrets that hadn’t been spoken in centuries.

  In this regard, I was no different from anyone else. I flinched when the door slammed shut behind me. I refused to glance out the side window toward my home as we pulled away from the curb.

  It seemed to me that every blink and shallow breath was another clue the Lemniscate could use against me. I shifted, trying to hide just how uncomfortable I was, and then stilled at the jingle of metal and the rattle of the illegal paraphernalia I had tucked away in my coat. Besides the scalpel, I had a cord, a pair of glasses, and two small pills. All the evidence anyone would ever need to order my execution, and the only tools I had to get myself out of this mess.

  I yearned for the troubles I’d had earlier that morning. Clyde trying to scam me. Nausea from the CAPs. Beverly doing everything in her power to avoid the work I paid her to do. It all seemed so simple now compared to the blackmail and the threat of discovery hanging over me.

  Eisley was a silent driver, a fact for which I was immeasurably grateful. A minefield of small talk with the most skilled profiler in the country was the last thing I wanted to deal with. Resting my fidgeting hands in my lap, I reminded myself of the tricks I had learned over the years, ways to fool the trading chips and the people determined to know the truth.

  Words had different meanings, different symbolism. If I were careful, I could convince myself of the truth in an outright lie and raise the value of my words without the chip or the Federal Trade Committee ever catching on. Those times were few and far between, however. Difficult to engineer unless you knew what kind of questions, and questioners, you were trying to subvert.

  Still, there were ways I could bluff my way through the initiation process probably better than anyone else. Certainly better than Cooper might have.

  How his blackmailer expected to get away with whatever they were planning evaded me. They wouldn't have had more than a few hours at most before Cooper blew the whole thing. If it weren't for the instructions to come to me before his induction, I might have assumed that the blackmailer didn't have any solid plan at all.

  There was something about the instructions to get a second profile that led me to believe otherwise. No one broke a law like that unless they had a very good reason or enough desperation that facing the consequences didn't matter. I could only hope that whoever was expecting Cooper had the presence of mind to keep from revealing their own plans before I could sniff them out and come up with a mutually beneficial solution.

  I was silent as I stared out the window, silent as we drove toward the one place I’d always sworn I would never allow myself to be taken. Silent as rusting fire escapes and dilapidated hospitals flashed by. We hadn’t left the city limits yet, and already I missed my home, my people. Audry.

  I pulled out my credit card and stared at the frequent transactions tab between the two of us. All it would take to warn her was for me to speak the honest truth, yet I couldn’t bring myself to do it. She would check this tab and the arbitrary facts surrounding my disappearance soon enough. Statements like Nate Donovan is alive, or Nate Donovan is in over his head would lead her to what had happened if only I spoke the words.

  The moment she narrowed down where I was and what trouble I was in, she would want to do something, anything, to get me out, and the situation was already too complicated. I couldn’t manage it if I had to add another piece to an already intricate puzzle.

  That would be my excuse if I ever managed to get back to her. She’d take that answer better than any comment I might make about keeping her safe. I could just imagine the fury that would rain down upon me if she thought I’d kept her in the dark because I wanted to protect her.

  Which was, of course, exactly what I was going to do.

  I tucked my credit card away as we passed through the first layer of the forcefield, entering the acres and acres of government owned property. The transporter sped up, and the landscape shifted from cold hard steel to a crisp green countryside; the ultimate sanctuary.

  A heavy feeling settled in my chest as I recalled the many candidates who didn’t fit the mold, and their sudden accidents, illnesses, and disappearances. It was too strong a pattern to ignore. Regardless of which way I looked at the situation, my fate would be one of two things: I would become Lemniscate tonight, or I would die.

  The blue glow of a second forcefield broke through the glaze of my thoughts, and I sat up straighter. We slowed long enough for th
e metal whirring of two wrought iron gates to swing open, reinforced with the same electric wall that surrounded the whole of the Lemniscate’s inner sanctum. Then we were past the security and driving up the winding lane toward the Kingsland Mansion.

  The mansion was everything I might have expected from an old family who held onto their power with a vice grip. It was an ancient and sprawling thing, a mausoleum and a monument all at once.

  The driveway gravel crunched under my boots as I approached the front doors. They creaked open to reveal a large entryway with a double staircase and a marble floor. Hanging from a skylight was an unlit chandelier reflecting the waning moon onto the dozen identical doors that lined the walls.

  As I stared at the opulence of the building, I could already feel a spark of rebellion igniting deep within me. When Audry spoke of fighting back, I always reminded her how little power we had. I never let myself take her seriously, though I knew she was very serious. Nothing was worth putting ourselves at risk, especially when the fight was so clearly doomed to failure.

  As our footsteps echoed and died away beneath the sound of the front doors rattling shut behind us, I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of damage a man like me could do in a place like this.

  The room Eisley led me to was behind an unmarked door matching all the others. It contained a case of books along the right wall and several cream colored, high-backed chairs. The only light in the room came from a crackling fire across from the door. A figure stood before it, their back to us.

  Eisley cleared his throat and the figure by the fire turned, the low light revealing both President Elijah King and a young woman whose head popped up from the chaise she had been lounging in.

  She pulled herself up with all the grace of a woman who had nothing better to do than to practice walking with books balanced on her head. She wore a long black dress with an indecent slit up the side and white satin gloves that ended at her elbows, contrasting her dark skin.

  This privileged socialite had to be the reason I was here. Lemniscate candidates were only selected when someone died or decided it was time to marry, and there had been no funerals in the past six months.

  President King crooked his finger toward me, and I came forward. I fought down the cringe that his theatrics inspired in me, but as I approached, I wondered if he’d watched any of the same old movies I had. Probably. They were the only form of entertainment left, now that fame and financial doom were so intrinsically tied.

  I stepped up to the duo, allowing myself the luxury of picking apart everything I could about them. King was a proud man. He stood with a stiff back, hands clasped behind him. His jaw was tight and he had placed himself partially in front of his daughter. On her part, the young woman stood near the fire, making no attempt to introduce herself or to even show interest in me. Her expression was placid. Indifferent, even.

  “Thank you,” King said, his gaze going right over me.

  Eisley grunted, and then marched across the room. At first, I thought he was aiming for a seat near the fire, or a book on the shelf, but after reaching out and pushing on the frame of the fireplace, a dark hole appeared in the wall, and he vanished behind it.

  I raised my eyebrows, turning back to the King family with a skeptical look, but they paid it no mind. Their attention was focused on me.

  “Nate Donovan,” I said, before the silence in the room could stretch too thin. I held out my hand, waiting for any reaction.

  When the tension in the room seemed to stretch past an unbearable point, the young woman finally stepped forward and grasped my hand.

  “Ivonne King,” she purred.

  Before either of us could say another word, the sound of laughter came from the doorway. I turned, still shaking Ivonne’s hand, to find the door wide open. Pale moonlight spilled into the room, casting a dark shadow over the man who stood in the doorway.

  “Joshua,” Ivonne greeted, dropping my hand as the young man strode into the firelight to reveal a near replica of what Elijah King might have looked like if he were thirty years younger. She glowered as her brother continued to grin at some private joke.

  I had all of three seconds to wonder about Joshua King’s chances of being the blackmailer or causing me any trouble, before another person entered the room behind him.

  My lungs felt like they were filled with drywall dust again. Our eyes met. His lips parted, and I glared.

  Cooper Hall looked away.

  16

  Time didn’t slow when I saw him. The world didn’t collapse out from under me. There were no outward signs that something earth-shattering had changed in the space between one moment and the next. To the others, nothing significant had occurred, yet seeing my client standing there changed everything.

  You don’t know me, and I don’t know you.

  My own words echoed in my head as I stared at him. I couldn’t follow my own advice now, couldn’t look away from the man I’d hoped I had already saved. His blond hair was slicked back again. He didn’t look anything like he had when I’d left him behind in that alley, gun in his hands and fear in his eyes.

  He was still wearing his clean, white button-down and shiny black shoes, standing as though he’d never bent his spine a day in his life. Aside from a smudge of dirt on his temple and a coat the color of bile wrapped around him, Cooper looked for all the world like he belonged right where he was.

  The vague sense of dread I’d managed to suppress thus far redoubled as I waited for someone to comment on the obvious. On how much I didn’t belong. On my threadbare appearance and troubled past. Either I hid my worry well, or the Lemniscate cared little enough about me that they didn’t notice how my fists clenched at my sides and my eyes never left Cooper’s form.

  “Did you have any trouble?” President King asked by way of greeting.

  “There was a glitch in the tracking, but we resolved the issue,” Joshua replied. With a heavy pause to glance back at Cooper he added, “Obviously.”

  “Tch! It’s two thousand seventy-nine, and technology continues to fail us?” Ivonne shook her head and stepped around her brother to hold her hand out to Cooper. She spared a glare for Joshua before introducing herself once again. “Ivonne King.”

  “Cooper Hall,” Cooper replied with all the ease and charm of a sanct-born. He took her hand and, rather than shaking it, he brushed his lips across her knuckles. His voice seemed deeper than it had when we first met that morning, and his newfound ability to restrain himself manifested in a stoic refusal to look my way. “A pleasure to meet you.”

  I snorted, unable to stop myself as I watched the shaky and desperate man who had come to me only hours before suddenly capable of the grace and airs that should have kept him calm and reasonable from the start.

  Finally, at my incredulous noise, his attention returned to me.

  “And you are?” he asked, his words laced with contempt.

  “Ah, yes,” Ivonne said, drawing the attention in the room back to her. “Monsieur Hall, I’d like to introduce you to your competition. This is Nathan Donovan. The two of you seem to share a few sentiments regarding the Lemniscate. Sentiments that mark you as uniquely qualified to join us. That’s why you’re both here, of course. But where are my manners? Please, let me take your coats.”

  I wondered at the subtle change from indifferent heiress to welcoming host, but chalked it up to the added dramatics of having a sibling to perform for. She was a young socialite with enough beauty to render most men speechless and enough wealth to become bored with regular mind games at an early age. I wouldn’t put it past her to have set Cooper up simply for the sport of it.

  Before I could blink, she was reaching out to me. For my coat, I realized.

  I frowned and shook my head. The list of illegal items ran through my mind over and over. Two CAPS pills. The scalpel. The glasses. The cord covered in Cooper’s blood. There were too many illegal things hidden away in my coat and too many memories attached to the tattered cloth. I’d solved so many prob
lems while wearing it. I’d spent so many nights wandering the streets with the familiar comfort of it wrapped around me like a shield.

  “Don’t be silly,” Ivonne cajoled. “We have a fire going. You’ll overheat if you keep it on.”

  Reluctant, I glanced between Ivonne and the fire before I pulled my glasses out to perch on my nose. Then I shrugged the overcoat off and handed it to her. There was no reason to keep my coat on unless I had something to hide, after all. As long as I didn’t turn my spectacles on, and Ivonne didn’t bother checking my pockets, everything would be fine.

  Cooper appeared equally as reluctant to hand over his own coat. It looked like something he might have pulled off the corpse of a homeless man, but I suspected his reticence had more to do with the gun hiding in his pocket than any fond memories he might have had for the thing.

  Ivonne took them both and tucked them away in a small closet beside the door. Then she turned back to us with a smile and not a single clue as to how well she’d disarmed us both. Blissfully ignorant, she wandered back to the chaise by the fire.

  “Make yourselves comfortable.” She waved toward the many empty chairs around her. “We have a lot to—”

  A creak echoed through the room, long and slow.

  As one, we turned to face the not-so-secret passage beside the fireplace, from which Eisley returned like a looming shadow. In the silence that lingered over his arrival, Cooper stepped closer to me. It was a move that appeared to be more from instinct than by choice, and I bit back the words I wanted to snap at him, to keep his distance and to keep his mouth shut. If he blew our cover, there was no hope for either of us surviving this night.

  By some miracle, no one had discovered his duplicitous reasons for being there yet, and I wasn’t going to let him ruin things now that my security, my very life, depended on him not getting caught. I faded into the background as best I could, watching the Lemniscate for signs of weakness amongst their ranks or any clue to who might have blackmailed Cooper into coming here. Anything I could use to get us both out alive.