Worry about yourself. That belief had ensured her survival for years. Hadn’t it?
Guilt would get her nowhere, and instinctively, she knew time was running out. She had to give Curtis the slip before they ever made it to the network. The deep, tortured looks he’d sent her way told her he saw far beyond the surface. It would only be a matter of time before he ferreted out her secret and used it against her.
Besides, he might talk a good game about his clan being accepting, but she knew better. In defense of her fears, she’d kept her expression carefully deadpan, but not without cost to her fraying nerves.
Even if he hadn’t insisted on dialing up so gradually, she’d have known the instant he backed off his energy. She opened her eyes. Silently, he passed her a bottle of water and half of the sandwich remaining from the supplies he’d brought.
Biting into it, she studied its layers of ham and cheese to avoid looking at him. As skilled as she was at evasion, his penetrating stares unnerved her.
All she needed to do was create a diversion, and she’d be rid of him. Armed with his stones, she’d hide out in the city and locate Magpie. Somehow. He’ll be better off without me too. She reassured herself to plug the gaping holes in her plan. For no matter what transformation she’d undergone, no matter if it was permanent, she knew one thing in her bones—
You can take the girl out of the brood, but you can’t take the brood out of the girl.
She’d forever curse Curtis yet be thankful to him for whatever part he’d played in her metamorphosis.
With difficulty, Jordan ignored the ache inside her at the thought of never again hearing his voice or seeing his eyes crackle with humor or annoyance. In many ways she’d been alone, even amongst an entire brood of Betrayers. She’d survive. She always had, and she’d continue.
Out of the corner of her eye, she felt Curtis’ intense gaze boring into her. He’d finished his half of the sandwich. “You were mumbling numbers while you were out of it the last three days. What are they?” he asked softly.
The numbers. I said them out loud?
As subtle as his tone was, she recognized the steely determination behind it. If he’d been trying to throw her off balance, he’d succeeded. A dog with a bone, that was Curtis Geary. In his defense, he hadn’t posed any questions, or spoken much at all most of the day, except to make sure he wasn’t harming her with the Vitality energy. But clearly, he too sensed their time was running out.
Obviously, he had questions. And he wanted answers.
Tilting her head back, she drained the water he’d provided, then shot him a sideways glance. “I thought you wanted us to rest in between these sessions.”
He gestured with his own bottle at their positions, cross-legged on the floor. “We are resting. Doesn’t mean we can’t talk.”
She could refuse to answer, but that would no doubt arouse his suspicions and it’d be even more difficult to escape. So, she’d play along, giving him the bare minimum of information and nothing more. Sharing went against her basic nature, and she had to order herself to speak. Or was it her guilt, digging in?
Jordan eyed the framing for one of the walls. “They’re something my father told me.” Steeling herself against tears, she whispered, “When he was dying.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Curtis said gently.
Jordan was certain he meant it. Why did he have to be so kind?
“I’m wondering if they can help us.”
She bit the inside of her cheek. “I don’t know what they mean or what they are. Telling me them, when he did, may seem odd, unusual. That was him.”
With clarity, her father’s face filled her mind along with his voice, gravelly with death. “They’re something important he gave to me. I often repeat them to myself, to make sure I don’t forget them.”
“Do you have them written anywhere?”
“No. I have a good memory.” As if to prove it, instant recall of the curve of his neck against her palm, and his beard scraping her lips enveloped her. Tortured her.
“Have you tried to figure out what they mean?”
“Of course,” she scoffed. “I figured when the time came, I would know. And if it didn’t, so be it. They’re something he gave me,” she repeated stubbornly. “I didn’t question it.”
“Will you tell me all the numbers? Let me try to find out what they are?”
Jordan lifted her head. His eyes, full of life, keen with intent, plumbed hers. Magpie hadn’t been able to determine what they meant, and she’d match her smarts against Curtis’ any day. Even if he was able to, she’d be long gone before he had the chance to tell her. Because they were something her father had told her on his deathbed, she’d known without question they were something he’d hidden from Abel.
Maybe she’d tell Curtis, not to help his clan, but to defy Abel. Regardless of her intention, she doubted it’d matter one way or the other.
Against her will, her conscience railed at her.
I owe him, don’t I? For what I’m about to do?
Telling him the numbers would be her way of thanking him, regardless of how long she actually managed to survive once she was gone.
Breathing deeply, she began. “Twenty-nine. Eighty-six.” Reciting the list soothed her. In her darkest hour, she’d clung to those numbers, and she took comfort that, in his own way, her father had been with her.
The only sound in the room was Curtis’ pen as he scribbled on a tablet. “Thank you,” he said when she’d finished.
“Uh huh.” Rising, she ambled to one of the windows and peered at the city’s patchwork of lights and darkness.
He followed her. “This next round will be the last,” he assured, as she faced him. “I’ll be at my full level of Vitality energy. If all goes well, and there’s no reason why it shouldn’t, I’ll reach out to my clan. Then we’ll prepare to leave for the network. Deal?”
When did lying become so hateful? She nodded. “Deal.”
A head taller than her, he gazed down at her. A muscle worked in his jaw. She turned away, but he caught her chin in his hand. “What’s your last name?” he asked roughly.
Her heart beating wildly, she slipped from his grasp. And immediately craved his touch. “Full of questions, aren’t you?”
He dropped his hand to his side. “What is it?” he demanded.
“I’m just Jordan,” she bit out between clenched teeth. He couldn’t have any idea how he shamed her with this simple question. And she was done sharing. “Got it?”
“All right.” What seemed like hurt flickered across his face. “Are you ready?”
“You mean, to maybe die?” They’d left the possibility unspoken all afternoon, even though each time he’d dialed up, she’d come through unharmed.
Cuffing his hand around her wrist, he held her fast. “I haven’t let you die yet.”
Emotions flooded her, but she couldn’t name them. Didn’t want to. Drawing on every shred of courage she possessed, she’d slug her way into this next round. Soon, she would claim freedom, maybe her demise, and she would do it on her terms, not this Keeper’s. And sure as hell not in his network.
It’s what I want.
Sadness claimed her like a cloud extinguishing the sun, but she disconnected from it.
The only thing I can want.
As she’d been trained to do over a lifetime, she focused that raw emotion, all of her strength, opened herself, and waited.
The Vitality energy flooded her senses, almost embracing her with its warmth. All day, she’d fought her instinct to resist it, and instead, allowed it to flow. Each time it became easier. As before, the reverberations sounded in her brain. This time, finally, incredibly, tendrils of control unfurled within her reach.
Excitement hummed through her. She forced herself not
to grab, but to finesse. Was it possible that, instead of her secret controlling her at will, she would command it?
They opened their eyes at the same moment and stared at one another. “I’m at full power. You’re okay. It’s—”
Snakelike, the first wave of dark energy coiled around her, stealing her breath. Whimpering, she gasped, the onslaught choking her.
Chapter 12
“Dark energy bomb,” Curtis growled.
Her face blanching, Jordan doubled over.
Immediately, he clasped his hands around her forearms, connecting them. Channeling his Flint, he battled back the cobwebs, sheltering them both from the toxic energy. Moments passed before he breathed night air spiced only by the undercurrents of rising humidity, and the city itself. Gone was the pollution of angst and dread, the hallmarks of dark energy.
Releasing Jordan, he checked her for injuries, then cupped her face in his hands. “Are you okay?”
Some kind of conflict came and went in her eyes, but she didn’t try to avoid his touch. And he’d welcome even that pathetic scrap. “I think so.”
The bomb had blindsided him, same as it had Jordan. They’d scarcely processed the fact he’d returned to the full power of his Vitality and she’d come through it unharmed. Coupled with what they’d just experienced, the gravity of their situation had been hammered home.
He rubbed her arm, wanting not only the contact but her undivided attention. Consciously, he spoke in a hushed tone, remembering how she’d recoiled before, actually holding her hands over her ears when he’d yelled. “One thing we know for sure, if there was any prior doubt. You are a Keeper. The dark energy affected you the same as it did me. From this point forward, you’ve got to think and behave as a Keeper, or it could cost you your life. Because you’re inexperienced, you have to listen to me. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”
Jordan’s chin trembled. “I understand,” she said, her voice heavy with resignation. Moving away from him, she paced. “Let’s not kid ourselves. You may be at full power, but you’re sharing your energy with me. Without my own stone, I’m dragging us down.” She kicked a corner of wood framing. “I’m the weak link. Again.”
Whether or not she had designs on his stones, her reaction impressed him. Her life had been turned upside down, but instead of falling apart, she reacted and behaved as a soldier. Didn’t she have any idea how brave she was?
The seed planted in Curtis’ heart burgeoned. “You are not a weak link.” His voice thickened with emotion. “You are a survivor. A miracle. What you are, what you’ve become, could change the way we live, and fight. So many things. Not the least of which is our mission against Similitude. I’m going to sustain you and protect you with my energy. As long as you need it. Like I said, we’re going to stick together. It’s what Keepers do.” He stopped, fearing he’d overwhelmed her. “Are you buying any of this?” he asked, regarding her troubled expression.
She shrugged. “Maybe.”
“That’s the first time you’ve ever felt the full bent of dark energy, isn’t it?”
“It’s the first time I’ve felt the effects of dark energy that way, period.”
Curtis nodded grimly. “Probably good you did. Now you know what we’re up against.” It was a hard lesson for her, but maybe now she wouldn’t consider bolting. At the very least, maybe it’d dampen her resolve. Plus, it drove home the havoc Betrayers wreaked on humans and the clan.
Tough love, he thought, and offered her a grin. “What’d you say before? Fear keeps us sharp.”
To his surprise, she grinned back briefly. It was enough to light up her face, and his heart. Had he honestly once thought no one would describe her as beautiful? Curtis vowed he’d be the one to give her a reason to smile, fully. Without knowing it, she’d offered him one bright spot in the darkness, and it would keep him going.
“When we get to the network, I’ll teach you how to harness the energy of Vitality stone. I’ll help you. My whole clan will. First, we have to get there.”
Even as he said it, his words haunted him. If either or both of them died before they reached the network, the clan would never know what’d transpired, never avail themselves of her knowledge. And he’d never have the chance to know her the way he wanted.
No way in hell would he let that happen.
He guessed she was thinking along the same lines—at least about reaching the network—but it pleased him to see her square her shoulders.
My alley cat.
“I may not have a stone, but I’m no stranger to battle, and I’ve got street smarts.” She jerked a thumb in the direction of the window. “The dark energy bomb that slammed us. The waves were intense, but they didn’t feel new to me. The effects may be dissipating already. Regardless, it’s going to be ugly out there. You know how it works.”
Barely-contained bitterness coated her voice. “The brood sets off the bomb, stockpiles dark energy. Humans will go nuts for a while. Help will arrive, but no one will know what happened. There’ll be an investigation. Usually, terrorists are blamed. And that’ll be the end of it until next time.”
She didn’t mince words, and she understood how the energy behaved. Those traits, coupled with her willingness to fight not only deepened his admiration for her, but the camaraderie he wanted to believe they shared.
“The dark energy from that bomb might’ve been orchestrated hours, or even days ago,” Curtis agreed. “We were still vulnerable to it, partly because of our proximity. We could be miles from its origin. But you’re right. It could get ugly. We’d be burying our heads in the sand if we didn’t assume we’ll encounter more.” He rocked on his heels. “We’re lucky, because it wasn’t the same as a full-on Similitude attack.” He grimaced. “I’ve got the Flint if we come up against that.”
“It’s a newer, not even fully tested weapon,” she retorted, gesturing at the gray stone around his neck.
She didn’t miss much. “Right again. I know it worked in the warehouse, and it’s all I’ve got. It’s a risk we’ll have to take.”
“So, what’s our plan?”
“I’m going to call my brother. Let him know we’re okay. Zane would’ve told him where I was, but that was three days ago.” A lifetime. Even as he spoke, he hurriedly tapped his Smart phone and held it to his ear. Nothing.
Frowning, he tried again. “He can give us an update on the situation in the city. And we can find out if they’re anywhere nearby. Based on that intel, we’ll decide if they can help us get out of the city. I don’t want to connect to their energy. It’d be like broadcasting ourselves.”
Eyeing the screen, he swallowed with difficulty as he slowly slid the phone into his pocket. “No service. Probably a safe bet a tower is out.”
She picked at the torn hem of her jeans. “Okay, now what?”
“Now, we do the only thing we can do.” The three days he’d been off the grid had been essential to saving Jordan, but it’d also severed him from his clan. Fortunately, he made a habit of preparing for the worst, and from the minute he realized she wasn’t going to die, as he’d originally thought, he’d known he had to be ready for anything. “We walk out of here.”
Quickly, he zipped his laptop into his back pack, along with two bottles of water and a bag of trail mix he’d found among the tools. “I figure it’ll take us less than two hours to walk to the network from here, if we keep a brisk pace and we don’t run into any trouble. It’s about four miles.”
“Walk?” Disdain darkened her features. “You don’t have a vehicle? How’d we get here?”
“My fellow Keeper and I drove together in a van. I made him leave, because I thought his Vitality energy and mine, combined, would be too much for you.”
“I understand. But to be left here without a vehicle?”
“Neither of us was expecting to r
eceive a Compulsion for you,” he said impatiently. “There was no time to plan.”
She took measure of him, making him wonder what was going on in that head of hers. Her brow creased. In pity? Or cunning?
“We’re not walking,” she said briskly, scanning the room. “You have tools here, right?” Kneeling, she investigated the contents of a five-gallon bucket organizer.
“What are you doing?”
“Hammer, screwdriver,” she muttered. “Pliers. Do you have any wire?” In the corner, she rummaged through a throwaway heap of building materials. “Ah, good.” Rising, she shoved the tools and supplies into the backpack, then held her hands out, palms up, as if for inspection. “I didn’t get these from knitting. I work on all the brood’s vehicles. It’s how I ‘contribute,’” she said grimly.
Curtis raised an eyebrow. “I’m thinking ‘contribute’ is too kind a word. What’s all this for?”
She narrowed her eyes. “You are slow, aren’t you? We’re going to boost a car.” Ripping paper towels from the roll, she dug into the backpack. “Let’s wrap the tools so they don’t make noise when we move.”
Unabashed admiration filled him. “Hot damn. I’ve never stolen a car before,” he said. “In fact, I’ve never stolen anything before.” This woman, this warrior, might keep them alive. “Steal a car,” he repeated. It was smart, if they could manage it. Or was it? “Should we drive? We don’t know what we’re getting into. The car might be like announcing ourselves if the streets are even passable. On foot, we could be covert, hide more easily.”
“Or die more easily,” she returned. “The car will get us where we’re going faster, if the streets are passable,” she repeated with emphasis. “It’ll also protect us from attack.”
Crossing to the window, she studied the view. “Looks like some of the electricity’s out. Not all. There should be enough light in the city so we can see fairly well. So we go without headlights. We both know the ‘Burgh like the backs of our hands. We stick to side streets, alleys, as long as we can and ditch the car if we have to. Time isn’t on our side. I vote for the car.”
The Betrayer (Crossing Realms Series Book 3) Page 7